I leave for London on Tuesday after being home for over three months. It definitely felt good to take a few deep breaths and let life's pulse return to normal. I had a steady dose of family time, good food, and the beach. But the world can only turn so slow until you feel like you have to quicken your pace like a gerbil on a spinning wheel. So I'm leaving again. For the next ten weeks I'll be tramping through Europe like a fat kid cut loose in a chocolate shop.
Here's my itinerary as of today:
Belgium (Brussels, Brugge)
Germany (Cologne, Rhine Valley, Frankfurt, Munich, Berlin)
Switzerland (Interlaken, Murren)
Italy (Amalfi Coast, Naples, Rome, Cinque Terra, Florence, Venice)
Spain (Barcelona, Madrid, ?)
Portugal (Lisbon, ?)
But who knows. Backpacking trips have a tendency to make unexpected stops and turns. We'll see where this one takes me.
Right now I'm enjoying my last beach day. Early September is prime time for it. The tourists have left and school is back in session. But as summer winds down, the beach slowly loses its allure. The gentle ocean breeze that once gave relief from the summer sun now burrows deep into my skin. The shadow from my beach chair reaches out further across the sand. Tiny waves roll under my chair as the tide creeps in. It's time to leave.
So pack the bag. Park to drive. Climb the crest and ride the swell. My chocolate shop awaits.