I am writing this sitting in the Toronto airport, awaiting my flight to Australia. This is a marvellous thing to be able to say.
It’s just over a month until I set off on the solitary English walking tour portion of my adventures (although, as you will hear, it will not be entirely solitary; we have numerous relatives and friends in the UK). I’ve packed up my apartment and put most of my things in storage, some in my parents’ house and some in Halifax, an activity that took up the part of April that was not spent working.
These first ten days of May included a restful portion with a visiting friend (whom I plied with vast quantities of ice cream in partial recompense for her help with the final packing, moving, and apartment-cleaning stages), some work in the garden with my dad, continued trip planning — and planning and packing and generally getting sorted for the family trip to Australia and Papua New Guinea that begins today.
My parents met in Papua New Guinea and lived there for nearly ten years, so I have grown up hearing stories about it. They know plenty of people in Australia as well, so our trip is a combination of tourism and visiting friends — really the best kind, I reckon.
Although I still have another four hours before my flight goes, and I have plenty more to write, it will have to keep for later, and some slow period — possibly even the week’s lull between the south Pacific and Edinburgh –, since although my new tablet seems to be fulfilling its purpose quite admirably, I packed the proper keyboard I have for it in my checked lugage (a luxury I will not have walking!), and I think this is about as much as I can handle typing with the touch pad.