It is a rainy Saturday morning in early June, and I am catching up on weeks of unlistened to CBC Radio 3 podcasts, backing up a few thousand images from my recent travels. My coffee is now lukewarm, and the raging thunderstorm outside is threatening my electrical collection. The shutters are trembling from the latest clap of thunder, and despite having a perfectly good laptop at my disposal to write this, I’ve decided to boot up my dying iMac to compose my thoughts. Continue reading
I had the best of intentions when I bought a plane ticket to Reykjavík. Ten days to visit a good friend, see some sights, eat some Hákarl, sit in the Blue Lagoon, and come back fully refreshed with a nasty hangover from the Brennivín.
Sometimes the plans you lay out don’t work out for reasons beyond your control. Continue reading
This is the story of Chiquita, the traveling monkey. It is not exclusively my story to tell, as she is not exclusively my monkey. (Note: I’m using other people’s photos here, with their permission. If your image has slipped into the batch without permission and you would like me to take it down, I’d be happy to. I’m sorry if I ganked the wrong photos!) Continue reading
I first saw the ocean when I was probably 8 years old. My family went on the one and only family vacation we ever took, and we drove from Montreal to Wildwood, NJ. The drive took forever, in my mind. It felt like I was crammed in the back seat of our beige Topaz without air conditioning for at least a month. We drove through gridlock traffic outside of New York City. I cried that I wanted to go see NYC. We probably stopped for a frosty. I didn’t want to go to New Jersey. Who the heck goes to New Jersey, anyhow? (We did. That’s who.) Continue reading