I always feel that a place is truly defined by its food because, in the words of Cesar Chavez, “the people who give you their food, give you their heart.”
It’s funny how we like to call ourselves Travellers, or even Adventurers, whenever we go somewhere new, but we call all those other people who come to the same spot – Tourists.
Australians don’t understand lakes, probably because we don’t really have any. Sure, we have puddles, and ponds, and the occasional billabong, but lakes – not so much.
My friend Bill (not his real name) told me the other day he’s started a destination wedding business. My first thought was “how hard can that be? You just cram a bunch of twenty somethings on an island, then marry off whoever’s left after the last rose ceremony”.
I’ve sometimes wondered what it would be like to write like a “real” travel blogger. Who knows, I might immediately get offered perks like six free nights at the Paris Hilton – or not.
My friend John was recently quoted as saying “my phone doesn’t understand emojis, and neither do I”.
Whenever I told anyone back home in Oz that we were coming to Canada for Christmas, they all said the same thing. “Wow, you’ll have a white Christmas!” I didn’t exactly say “Bah, humbug”, but I did perhaps say “well, maybe – if it doesn’t rain.
I’m standing all alone in an empty schoolyard, well, all alone except for a little dog. It’s cold. Where is everyone? Anyway, more about that later.