Here I go again!

Well, I'm off again. This time I'm headed to lovely Virginia for the holiday and some homemade pumpkin pie...or was that pensylvannia? Anyway, just made it through security. The lovely woman at the delta counter restore my faith in humanity during the holidays when she allowed me to pay my $25 baggage fee with a $20 (ok, so she didn't have change yet and probably wanted to avoid walking down the line to see if any of the attendants had yet to encounter a last-minute schmuck like me and therefore had change, but because of tr calendar month I'll give her the benefit of the doubt). Let's see if I can make my connecting flight from JFK to ORF ...with a 45 minute delay. Lord have mercy. JFK during the holiday sprint? It would be a Christmas miracle if I made it!

Spreading holiday cheer through doorbusters

Living in a border town and crossing that border daily has turned me into a very patient liner-upper. I rarely cringe at the sight of a line anymore and just look at these otherwise inconvenient events of life as chances to reflect and ponder the true meaning of our human existence.

Ok, not really, but I do use them for some much-needed down time for my brain and body. As this holiday season began with the snip snip of the Macy's ribbon, however, I began to realize the mounting excitement for every Canadian's favorite say of the year - Black Friday. (And yes, I did say every Canadian since something like 80% of us live within 20 mi. of the border. It was safe to generalize.) Since I find myself inconveniently on a class at 9 am on Friday mornings I was not able to join in the anarchal bliss of the biggest celebration of gluttony and greed in these 365 days and therefore find no joy in waiting in line among the sea of "Ontario - Yours to Discover" plates keeping me from sitting down to our American feast 15 minutes early. I suppose this traveler will just have to settle for some homemade excitement in the form of mashed potatoes and pumpkin pie this year. No nervous-excited feeling as I lay in wait in the parking lot of a nearby mall for the clock to strike 12 and the doors to fly open to the masses this year. Pick me up something cheap that I'll wake up tomorrow and realize I dont need, though!! My materialistic heart won't be content without some trophy from this celebration of the "survival of the fittest" (and thriftiest)!

Once upon a time in Bonnie Scotland...

I think I first caught the travel bug when my grandmother surprised my sister and I with a trip to visit our aunt in Scotland a million years ago.  I was 15, my sister 14, and there we were wandering around the terminals of YYZ trying to figure out a way to keep ourselves busy on that 7odd hour flight.  After an engine malfunction resulting in a last-minute part switch-out followed by a spontaneous lightning storm had us drumming our fingers impatiently on the hard plastic seats of the International Departures terminal for an extra two hours, we finally made it up and out of Canada and over to the land of Lassie and haggis.  As my sister continued to snore loudly in the seat beside me, I popped in my headphones and set my DiscMan to "Fix You" as I gazed out the foggy window at my first sunrise at 36 000 feet.  I remember watching that perfect sphere of light rise over the green hills and stretch its rays out across the rolling clouds in soft, sheer layers of purple, pink, and gold as if it were welcoming us back from the black abyss that was the night sky and thinking this was something I would never get tired of - the travelMONSTER was born!

When we landed, Uncle picked us up in his UK car that was only slightly larger than the Hot Wheels of my childhood and whisked us off to the heart of Glasgow.  Driving on the wrong side of the road was fun only after a few hours of sleep, but we somehow managed to keep our boxed croissants down through all the twists and turns and death-defying maneuvers that were as standard as a cup of English Breakfast in this strange land.

Floor to ceiling windows, regal crown molding, and a secret garden shared by all inhabitants of this once-gentlemen's bachelor pad was our home for the next 2 weeks and I couldn't have been more enchanted.  Days of wandering through the Royal Botanic Gardens and the shops of Glasgow followed by nights filled with Earl Grey, "The Mighty Boosh" and the laughs of drunks rolling down the street flew by, and before we knew it we were leaving the flat and heading to the mystical highlands.  I felt like I was in a dream world as we darted from one Brigadoon to the next, each disappearing into the mist and moors faster than the last.  We stopped on the side of the road to get a picture of the sights from sand-still and I thought I would be snatched by some woodland fairy and dropped into an adventure complete with knights, trolls, and witches.

On we ventured deeper and deeper into the mist and found ourselves at a tiny one-room schoolhouse converted into a cottage big enough for the 5 of us (but not our luggage).  We were on top of a small hill surrounded by a forest - of course!  In the mornings we'd have breakfast outside under the trees and then coast down the hill past the cow farms toward our next adventure.  Macbeth's castle, wool farms, and the Strathisla whiskey distillery were a few of our stops before we made our way to Loch Ness.  I spent the entire Loch cruise hanging over the edge of the boat hoping to catch a glimpse of Nessie but had to settle for suspicious photos in the Loch Ness museum as my Nessie connection.  Edinburgh's Fringe Festival had my sister and I wide-eyed, The Elephant House where J.K. herself conjured up the wizarding world of Harry Potter was like traveling to our Mecca, and the twisting streets of a genuine medieval city had us dizzy with history and mystery.  Scotland had bewitched me!

When we rolled our suitcases down the wooden steps from the second to first levels of the flat, I knew that I'd be back to this part of the world.  Whenever I catch sight of my Jimmy Hat I think about the excitement, joy, wonder, and lessons I learned in Scotland and I feel like that nervously-excited 15 year old ready to embark on the first adventure she can call her own.  Exploration of the past and the present, of culture and tradition are what I love to do more than anything else and I knew I'd never stop dreaming of far-off lands and the experiences I'll have in them!

pat downs got you down?

It seems like every time I turn on a tube or check the CNN app on my shiny new piece of overpriced technology there is another person complaining about the new security procedures at airports across the US of A.  Some person, who usually looks like they've been spending too much time in Middle Earth, pops up on the screen talking about how they feel violated or used in some way.  I listen to Frodo ramble for a few minutes and start to wonder how our country became so conceited!  Why is it that all of these people feel like these poor TSA workers actually enjoy running their hands up and down strangers' bodies for 8 hours a day?  I say give these security officials a raise for having to deal with the feeling of dread that surely washes over them every time the next troll in line saunters up, guns blazing, ready to scream "ASSAULT" if they've been feeling a little unappreciated lately.  What might their poor, latex-coated hands find on this one?  A third nipple?  The under-developed nub of an extra limb?  I say stop flattering yourself and look at the rub-down as a free upgrade courtesy of your airline and terrorists across the globe - and be thankful that you got some action in the form of a pat down instead of a blow up at 35 000 feet.

Venturing Into New Territory...

Blog World?

This was the easiest place I've ever traveled to.  No lines, no baggage claim, and no one checking my passport to see if the corners of a fake photo were curling up at the edges.  So far so easy...