Boo

It must be the season, but for the last month or so the fly girl has taken great pleasure in regularly trying to scare me. Unfortunately she hasn’t fully grasped the importance of surprise in the equation… a crucial element when trying to scare someone. So, while in full view she has tried repeatedly to jump out from behind doors and under covers yelling “Boo!” and then hopefully asking, “Did I scare you?!” I decided to be honest rather than play along in hopes of helping her understand that if I can see her and I know she is there, I won’t be startled. She needs to honestly surprise me... which isn't hard as I startle far too easily. Finally, while getting dressed the other morning she quietly crept into the room with a black dress over her head in once last ditch attempt. I hadn't put my contacts in yet and as it is so dark in the mornings we both came around the corner in perfectly choregraphed timing and... this time she got me! We both jumped up and down with excitement and had a high-five to celebrate. I have never been so happy to have the B-Jesus scared out of me before. Happy Halloween!

Great expectations

Having travelled to nearly every country in Western Europe, but not Northern Ireland… I wanted to take advantage of my recent trip to the UK to check this country off my list, so to speak. It is not somewhere I can see myself seeking out as an individual travel destination for a holiday, yet I have wanted to see the Giant’s Causeway since I first saw a photo of its hexagonal basalt columns. Although it was interesting to visit Belfast and learn about what they call The Troubles, and see the 40 ft. peace walls who’s gates are still locked on weekends, it is still coming into its own after years of violence. Driving the Coastal Road to the Giant’s Causeway, however, was a slideshow of quintessential Irish countryside. I tried to manage my expectations as we arrived, knowing that often the real thing is not quite what the coffee table books show you… case in point, have you ever been to Stonehenge?! The Giant’s Causeway is a much larger site than I was expecting and the money shot is really just one of six components making up the site. However, the Wishing Chair, as it is called, satisfied my desire to see it, sit on it and stand on it. What we weren’t expecting to find was a gorgeous sand beach a short drive up the road with no less than 50 surfers in the ice colds waves… of Northern Ireland?! But, as we drove home silently sucking on our local Yellow Man candy I thought, this is why we travel. To see for ourselves... Sinn Féin. Photos coming soon

It's a small world afterall

I don’t think we were in Edinburgh for even an hour. We had just rounded the corner onto the Royal Mile when a girl grabbed my arm and said, “Ah, excuse me miss.” It took me a split second to place that her lime green shirt was not the same one my fly guy was wearing and that her face was familiar. Katey?! Turns out it was a girl I used to work with in Victoria and she had been travelling in Europe for 2 months. After touring Edinburgh Castle, having an Iron Bru and baked potato from where else, but The Baked Potato Shop and reinacting Chariot’s of Fire while hiking up the Salisbury Craigs and Arthur’s Seat for an amazing view of the city, we dined at The Tower in the National Museum of Scotland. And, who walks in, but a group of friends and colleagues. The next day I shopped along Victoria Street, my favourite street in the Old Town, and ran into my friend D at the Red Door Gallery. OK, not literally, but his work from when he lived and studied in Edinburgh was still for sale. As we drove out into the country, a car honked at us from behind and I wondered if it was someone we knew. I’m sure it was as we couldn’t possibly have cut someone off as we got used to driving a stick with the opposite hand on the “wrong” side of the road while navigating roundabout after roundabout. By time we got to St. Andrews I was convinced that I might actually run into dreamy Prince William visiting his alma mater. Photos coming soon

And on the sixth day, God created Man… chester

After a decade since my last visit, I recently returned to England. This time going to Manchester for a convention. Home to famed football club Manchester United, Coronation Street, Queer As Folk, Rolls Royce and a successful blending of new, modern architecture with traditional Victorian. Oh, and pubs. Lots of pubs. It is Britain afterall. Despite terrible food everywhere we went, Manchester buzzed with nightlife and shopping. But, with the exception of Man U’s Old Trafford stadium there are few famed sights on offer. Is it wrong that I was thrilled to sit in the players’ dressing room where David Beckham once walked naked, but could care less that Princess Anne attended our opening ceremony at the Town Hall? There was one building, however, that this architecture buff wanted to see… the Imperial War Museum designed by architect Daniel Libeskind. I love taking local transportation when in a foreign city and the location of this site would require use of the metro and then a long walk along the Sainsbury Quays and footbridge. My plan was just to view the exterior with no interest in its contents, but after learning about an exhibit on animals in war I was lured inside thankful that I judged this book by its cover and that I made an effort to do more than drink beer while in Manchester. Photos coming soon

London calling

Today is departure day. We’re off to the U.K. And, as always we are running around like a couple of British chickens with our heads cut off… especially if we’ve been infected with foot and mouth disease. I do not understand how two organized, forward thinking, type-A individuals cannot get their shit together when it comes to catching a flight?! Because, no matter how hard we try we are always late for everything. And, we know we can get away with it. There is rarely traffic in Victoria severe enough to cause a stall getting to the airport. The airport is very small so we know that we can roll in 30 minutes before a flight and essentially walk right onboard. And, we (or at least one of us!) works right up until the very last minute. The cab is usually in the drive and we’re still throwing things in our suitcases. I swear we take days off our lives with the unnecessary stress we put on ourselves every… single… time. Oh well, at least it is a well choreographed routine. And, at least we are exactly the same way. I can only imagine if one of us was an early bird standing at the curb tapping their watch and the other wasn’t. You definitely need to be synchronized with your companion or travelling together will be a disaster. Anyway, as I write this my fly guy is pulling an “all-nighter” at the office and my suitcase sits empty on the floor. But, all the last minute stress will be replaced by excitement (or at least exhaustion) the minute we board the plane for Jolly ‘Ol. Should make sleeping on the overnight flight a lot easier. See you in two weeks!