In my last post I mentioned that *I was this close* to 200 groovy likers on Gin & Lemonade’s Facebook page. With a little help from my friends, I’m now at 215. Thank you! (I’m now at 943, help me get to 1K?)
Moving on. In a minute.
When I was sitting at 199, I said that groovy person 200 would get to choose the topic for my next blog post.
What I learned from that exercise is that I can’t count.
But I asked Angela over at You Are Awesome and she suggested that I share 200 of my favourite things.
Hey, presto. New blogging series where I talk about what makes me happy/think/tick.
Thanks, Angela. (Note: sarcasm optional.)
As we embark on this journey of whatever, I’ll try to get better at counting.
And since I’m all about the passport stamps at the moment, I thought I’d share highlights from travels past.
That time in London when I thought a bidet was a sink for kids. It wasn’t. In my defence, I was 4.
That time in Norway when I got a little too close to lambing season. It was
miraculous gross. And also the reason I’m not a vet right now. Thanks, Norway. (No sarcasm. At all. Honest.)
That time my Mom and I got lost on the way to Busch Gardens in Williamsburg. I think that’s why I appreciate getting lost these days.
That one time I went to sleep-away camp and the bunk didn’t actually smell of pee. Seriously, it was only that one time.
The first time I landed in Scotland. The original and best Airport Hello.
That time I did Amtrak from New York to Seattle on my own, and I even met some biker pastors that I’d changed my mind about by the end of the three-day journey.
Being in Seattle, drinking coffee in the first Starbucks. Finding reiki and losing 20 pounds in one month because I forgot my friend was a vegetarian.
Going to Prague and watching German MTV.
Getting drunk in Dublin.
Getting dumped in Paris. Then having to sleep rough-ish, because the airport did actually close overnight, and they did actually throw us out. Into a bathroom. I watched the sunrise and said goodbye to someone who thought he was some kind of mystic. But really he was just a very specific kind of asshole. Anyway. I took my best friend with me and now we have THAT TIME WE SLEPT IN A BATHROOM.
Florence. And everything about it.
That time I took Neil to New York for the first time. Even though he didn’t propose to me on that trip.
The second night of our honeymoon when we had to sleep on bunkbeds. On a train to London. And another one to Bruges.
Taking pictures of George Bailey-Penguin. Getting drunk in Bruges.
This photo of us in Barcelona. LOOK at how relaxed we are.
Having one too many mojitos in a bar in Barcelona. Because we looked at each other and agreed: We will never get to DO THIS AGAIN.
Which brings us to Isla’s first trip to NY, where she turned six months old.
So, that’s 17 of my favourite travel memories. I counted. And then Neil checked my counting.
Another favourites list coming up next week!
What’s your favourite travel memory?
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