My posts are over a month behind here.
The New Zealand road trip is long wrapped up. I’ve landed and departed from Dubai. I’ve been in Europe (the Netherlands, Paris, Berlin, and Copenhagen) reconnecting with family and friends old and new for the past three weeks.
Back in Australia I’d decided the rest of my trip would be the Love tour. (As if I haven’t been teased enough about this being my eat-pray-love year.)
I only want to be and go places where there is love and warmth and friendship and laughter.
The me who’s in my skin now is a massive departure from the bitter lone ranger who started this trip 11 months ago.
It’s a good change.
I am writing this in a room in a friend’s third floor apartment in Copenhagen. Strangely it is a room I’ve seen in my mind many times before, at least the bones of it, the high wood-framed windows, the gray walls. It is the room I write in in my mind, or one very much like it. And now that I’m physically here it’s an eerie feeling.
In the next few weeks, the blog will inevitably take a backseat to the fiction writing (and life living) that was always the purpose and heart of this trip.
I also have a ticket home now.
Home to US soil at least. Feeling the approach of that flight a month and a half from today I’m inspired to savor every second, every fraction of a second, of the deliciousness that remains. Although I’m certain life will be just as wonderful when I return. I’ve always had a strange knack for creating adventure in the most mundane of days and places.
Here’s to 11 months.
And to being–so gratefully–farther along on this journey in body and spirit than I thought possible.
+Photo at the Tuilerie, Paris. Credit Tinus Lovento.