As you know, today is 23 June, and exactly 4 months since I left Adelaide.
It's hard to believe that the time has flown like that. But when I look back on my photo albums, blog posts, and grubby wardrobe, I can accept that I've come so far and seen so much.
We started out in Hong Kong and Macau, enjoying the foggy atmosphere from the relative comfort of an air-conditioned Mercedes. When we weren't being driven around, we were literally running after our driver to keep up. The result was the quickest yet most comprehensive tour of Hong Kong that I think anyone has ever had.
After HK we landed in Paris - in freezing cold weather. Minus 4 degrees celcius, with teeth a-chattering on the tarmac at Charles de Gaulle. Our itinerary in France included wine tasting in a blustery Bordeaux vineyard, under the protection of a rather bronzed-out St Joan of Arc. Plus I legged it around France wearing a Zara jacket in the ugliest brown known to humankind. Purchased in Paris too, putting paid to the rumour that the City of Lights is also the City of Fashion. BAH. The leather gloves rock though.
The Swiss hospitality greeted us next, in the form of a quick visit to Bern, the nation's capital. I am yet to find a waffle to rival the one I had there. Mmmm golden syrup gone all caramel-like. Gooey goodness. Then the Genevan experience reunited us with the Gardners, with visits to the UN Offices, the Waterjet on Lake Geneva, and the Hill of Death that PG made us climb.
Then it was onwards to sunnier skies in beautiful Italy, my favourite place by far. We walked everywhere and, in between time, ate more pasta and cheese and bread than I thought possible. The chianti wasn't half bad, either.
Then it was off to Turkey, for a 15-day tour that united us with countless other Aussie and NZ pilgrims to the Gallipoli peninsula for a dawn service I'll never forget. Sleeping outdoors - stone cold sober - was never so much fun. For the rest of the time, if we weren't on the bus or at a monument, we were in a bar. Lord help our livers - mine is still bruised.
And after all that, I look back at the last 4 months from my new "home" in Scotland and I am well chuffed. We've come this far and we weren't robbed once. We only missed one train, made a few friends, didn't lose our luggage (although I did leave my new Peter Alexander PJs in a Turkish hotel room), and best of all - we've lived to tell the tales.
And there are plenty more to come.
We started out in Hong Kong and Macau, enjoying the foggy atmosphere from the relative comfort of an air-conditioned Mercedes. When we weren't being driven around, we were literally running after our driver to keep up. The result was the quickest yet most comprehensive tour of Hong Kong that I think anyone has ever had.
After HK we landed in Paris - in freezing cold weather. Minus 4 degrees celcius, with teeth a-chattering on the tarmac at Charles de Gaulle. Our itinerary in France included wine tasting in a blustery Bordeaux vineyard, under the protection of a rather bronzed-out St Joan of Arc. Plus I legged it around France wearing a Zara jacket in the ugliest brown known to humankind. Purchased in Paris too, putting paid to the rumour that the City of Lights is also the City of Fashion. BAH. The leather gloves rock though.
The Swiss hospitality greeted us next, in the form of a quick visit to Bern, the nation's capital. I am yet to find a waffle to rival the one I had there. Mmmm golden syrup gone all caramel-like. Gooey goodness. Then the Genevan experience reunited us with the Gardners, with visits to the UN Offices, the Waterjet on Lake Geneva, and the Hill of Death that PG made us climb.
Then it was onwards to sunnier skies in beautiful Italy, my favourite place by far. We walked everywhere and, in between time, ate more pasta and cheese and bread than I thought possible. The chianti wasn't half bad, either.
Then it was off to Turkey, for a 15-day tour that united us with countless other Aussie and NZ pilgrims to the Gallipoli peninsula for a dawn service I'll never forget. Sleeping outdoors - stone cold sober - was never so much fun. For the rest of the time, if we weren't on the bus or at a monument, we were in a bar. Lord help our livers - mine is still bruised.
And after all that, I look back at the last 4 months from my new "home" in Scotland and I am well chuffed. We've come this far and we weren't robbed once. We only missed one train, made a few friends, didn't lose our luggage (although I did leave my new Peter Alexander PJs in a Turkish hotel room), and best of all - we've lived to tell the tales.
And there are plenty more to come.
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