Bookending an otherwise uneventful work week (minus my first mosh pit experience…), were two glorious Sundays. We were all sold out of beer at the shop the past two Sundays so — lucky me– I skipped off to enjoy the day(s) with good people and sunshine. Continue reading
In January, I asked Tristan to come with me to check out a new coffeeshop I had heard of in Richmond, in rural Ottawa. He made fun of me for suggesting a coffee spot that was more than a ten minute drive away, but he’s since become a proud member of their caffiend club and we’re both big fans of the quirky spot. I wrote about Cameron and Savannah, and their winning combination of coffee and curios at CC’s Corner over at Apt613. Continue reading
The more I see of this world, the more connected I feel to it, and yet the bigger it seems. The more I jump around, the more I appreciate the comfort of having a place and a city and people that feel like home, and the more I yearn to leave it to see other places. It’s thrilling to be far away from everything familiar and realize that we share things in common with people half way across the world. But, eventually I’m thrilled at the thought of coming back to the stillness of what I know. Travel is full of paradoxes. …not an original thought, I’m sure. Just as I was starting to feel a little bit weary of living out of my bag, we landed back home in Ottawa. Admitedly it’s totally premature Continue reading
We were perhaps overly optimistic about picking up Portuguese as we explored the country. Not that it has hindered our travels in any real way — we tried to order espresso tonight and received port instead– but we’re working on it. We’ve been impressed by how many Portuguese polyglots we’ve encountered, and most people don’t seem to mind our silly Spanish/French pronunciation as we practice. From Madeira to the Douro we’ve felt very welcome.
A week in Paris was just long enough to see some familiar sights, find new ones, and see tennis balls kick up red clay. Continue reading
After a day of sightseeing in Paris, the quiet vineyards of Alsace seem very far away. Continue reading
I was in grade six when my parents first took us to France. A couple teachers balked at four young kids being taken out of school for three weeks, but most of them were thrilled that the little anglo children (at the very French school) were off to practice their French in Europe. As homework, all four of us were to keep a French journal of our vacation (a task I quite enjoyed – surprise!). I can still remember being in our first rental house in the Loire, my brothers and I sitting around a table chronicling our days and decorating the pages with stickers of French flags while my parents cooked dinner: “aujourd’hui nous sommes allés à un château…”. Continue reading