Itchy Feet

I haven’t been anywhere in a while now, and my feet are feeling itchy. My passport feels neglected. We’ve a trip planned in April, but that’s really it. My parents are coming again in December and we’ll be headed back to New Zealand, the North Island this time, but that’s a long way away. Time-wise, I mean.

There are so many places to go (Dr. Seuss, anyone?) and so little time in which to go there. High on my list are Iceland and Africa. At work today, talking to a new-ish friend, I found out that she is retiring and moving back to her home in Johannesburg, after many many years here in Sydney. You better come stay with us, she says, – 4 bedrooms and a pool, she says! (Listen, don’t make me an offer of lodging unless you are serious. Cause, I’ll stay, y’all. I will. Knock-knock-knock, HI!  IT’s MEEEEEEE!)  South Africa with a South African? Yes, please.

The hubs and I are celebrating FIFTEEN(!) years of wedded-ness this year, and we are thinking of a road trip deep into the red center of Australia. It’s probably better to wait until 15 years of togetherness before attempting this kind of trip, because, Good Lord (Southern phrase) – you really have to like that person before they are the only face you see for ages in the midst of a hostile desert that would just as soon see you as a pile of picked over bones than a man in the moon (another SP.) And they have to know you well enough to know when silence is golden. They have to know how to take turns picking the music (it’s not necessarily one for one.)

What about you? What’s on your list? Who do you hope to travel  there with? Do you get itchy feet?




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