La Grande Aventure
I can't call this Une Petite Aventure despite hearing my dad whisper it to me a lot lately. He always loved to say that: "C'est une petite aventure, non?" Ah babo... I can hear you right now and it's making me smile. I'm sure I will feel him around me a lot in the next few weeks.
I'll be trying to update my journal daily during this trip; I want to be able to go back and read and remember. I haven't been home since... 1991? Almost 20 years. Over the years, I've gone through periods of great nostalgia - both for Geneva and for traveling. It's been odd to travel so little as an adult when, as a child, we were constantly gallivanting. I've always loved the feeling of awe and eager excitement whenever we would fly out to a mysterious destination my dad wanted to discover. Seeing the world, witnessing other cultures, learning how different people are and yet how incredibly similar shaped my formative years and enabled me to hold on to a childish curiosity and wonder. I have felt this wonder slowly being eroded by the daily routine I had been submitting myself to.
So here we are, the eve before the trip of a lifetime, or at least my lifetime. Finding the room at the Travelodge was an incredible comic installment of this adventure, but we found it and we are here now. We brought Max with us so she could spend one more night with us.
This is the only cloud on my horizon right now - Max has never been without us for this long. A week here and there, ten days last time we were in New Orleans, but never longer. And she doesn't do great when we're gone - she stops eating and tends to gnaw on her skin. This time, however, it's different as she has her Grand-Maman taking care of her. Cathy showers her with love, attention, and food doggies shouldn't be eating. I think she is going to be ok... the question is, can Court and I handle 25 days without our little pupmeister? We'll have to.
So we're flying out in 8 hours. One stop in Philadelphia and one stop in Frankfurt and then, OH MY GOD!!! we'll be in Geneva. Completely unreal. Getting flashback like bullets from a firing squat. Places I haven't thought of in years... The anticipation is uncurling deep in my tummy and spreading through my chest. This is it. I'm coming home.
I'll be trying to update my journal daily during this trip; I want to be able to go back and read and remember. I haven't been home since... 1991? Almost 20 years. Over the years, I've gone through periods of great nostalgia - both for Geneva and for traveling. It's been odd to travel so little as an adult when, as a child, we were constantly gallivanting. I've always loved the feeling of awe and eager excitement whenever we would fly out to a mysterious destination my dad wanted to discover. Seeing the world, witnessing other cultures, learning how different people are and yet how incredibly similar shaped my formative years and enabled me to hold on to a childish curiosity and wonder. I have felt this wonder slowly being eroded by the daily routine I had been submitting myself to.
So here we are, the eve before the trip of a lifetime, or at least my lifetime. Finding the room at the Travelodge was an incredible comic installment of this adventure, but we found it and we are here now. We brought Max with us so she could spend one more night with us.
This is the only cloud on my horizon right now - Max has never been without us for this long. A week here and there, ten days last time we were in New Orleans, but never longer. And she doesn't do great when we're gone - she stops eating and tends to gnaw on her skin. This time, however, it's different as she has her Grand-Maman taking care of her. Cathy showers her with love, attention, and food doggies shouldn't be eating. I think she is going to be ok... the question is, can Court and I handle 25 days without our little pupmeister? We'll have to.
So we're flying out in 8 hours. One stop in Philadelphia and one stop in Frankfurt and then, OH MY GOD!!! we'll be in Geneva. Completely unreal. Getting flashback like bullets from a firing squat. Places I haven't thought of in years... The anticipation is uncurling deep in my tummy and spreading through my chest. This is it. I'm coming home.