Claire has wanted for years to visit the Canary Islands. And last week, in the depths of the Sahara, one of us wearing plastic on our heads (no prizes for guessing who...) we imagined the sunny beaches and clear water. We were reading a book about Hawaii and imagined our destination as one step beyond that paradise. True island bliss.
But here is the fun part of listening to everyone rave all day about how lucky we are to be on this trip. We know what's going on. A lot of times? Heaven. Other times? Canary Islands.
It is cloudy here. And we have to work here because we have internet...both our curse and blessing, we realize. And one of us decided to catch a weird exotic flu-type illness here in the land of potable water and readily acceptable Italian food. And we can't boil water for tea...which we believe to be the panacea for all ills in true British fashion.
So clearly, we're coming back here as soon as we get the chance. The bliss is here...we can feel it. We're just not quite there yet.
Interesting thing about travel...the more places you go, the longer the list of places to see keeps getting.
1 comment:
it's funny how books and travel are alike in this sense. The more you see/read, the more you want to see/read. It is for this reason that in the life to come (ie. after we die) I'm seriously hoping for a really, really good library and free plane tickets. Tele-transporting would be great too. And when you think about it, we need a long time to explore everything....and that's just Earth not to mention all the other solar systems etc. Perhaps, travel between them would make for good reading time.
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