I love to travel whenever and wherever finances permit. I guess that’s no surprise–given that I’ve dedicated this blog to a place that affords me the opportunity to see many interesting things as I make my way to and fro’ several times a summer–not to mention the unforgettable sights I see once there.
As I’ve gotten older I’ve come to appreciate that just about everyone has an interesting story to tell and their stories are often coloured by their place of residence or the various places they’ve been.
For example my friend “E,” who now lives near my parents about 700 miles from here and with whom I’d very much like to spend some time, spent most of her life in Australia, her native land. I have always wanted to travel to Australia and will someday but until then, hearing first-hand tales from an Australia native is as close to being there as I can be. I would love to share some of her amusing tales of growing up Aussie but she has a particular fantastically humourous way of relating her life story. I have to have her varbatim contribution. She is that funny. It would be neat to (with her permission) switch on a little recorder and later use to transcribe a post of E. sharing her story. If you are unfamiliar with what I call “the Dragon,” make sure to have a look atand get a good feel for it by taking
Back to my Aussie friend. What has made her life even more fascinating to me is that now she lives in an area of the country that is trying to make changes intrinsically to morph itself from slums into middle class neighbourhoods. She has a condo with her spouse and because she lives in this uncharted territory she constantly witnesses interactions that must boggle her mind though she puts an amusing spin on them when writing of them. I can’t even begin to get a grip on what it must be like to be an Aussie ex-pat transferred to the seedy side of a big American city, witnessing drug transactions from your back porch, gunshots as a semi-common background noise, drunks staggering past, between you and your little path to your front door–moments after they’ve taken a wee on your front gate. :p
It looks like we can do three weeks at Maple Lake this summer. Plus Labour Day weekend, I think (we have been for a few years in a row now).
Which is great as long as there’s Internet. I know I’m a broken record but I’m not the only person that can’t afford to take weeks off of paid work. And dial-up in my hyper-competitive online world won’t do it, regardless.
That’s why I’m thinking maybe going to the cottage a bit later so there might be a chance to get the cable people out our way? Oh please, oh please?