A Nice(?) Holiday
Sometimes, I wonder why people believe that travelling is a good way to pass a holiday. You start off sitting in a cramped little seat for half a day to go to another country, never knowing if that plane you're on will end up contributing to the plane crash statistics. You are then greeted by sheets of rain that seem to enjoy following you around. All throughout this icy torture, your overly cheerful tour-guide tries to get you interested in the history of, variously, a wall of rock, a market, a cobblestone road and those ravens that think your hair makes good bedding material.
Of course I'm enjoying myself. Never been better. Now, pass the umbrellas and we'll be off to the next god-forsaken location in this tour of Hell.
...
...well, I suppose I shouldn't be so harsh. It's been a long while since we've travelled as a family... but I'm really, really not looking forward to leaving the hotel in this weather.
=_=
Two more days before we can go home. I'm counting down the minutes already.
Of course I'm enjoying myself. Never been better. Now, pass the umbrellas and we'll be off to the next god-forsaken location in this tour of Hell.
...
...well, I suppose I shouldn't be so harsh. It's been a long while since we've travelled as a family... but I'm really, really not looking forward to leaving the hotel in this weather.
=_=
Two more days before we can go home. I'm counting down the minutes already.