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What’s in a name?
“We will name her Marie Louise, as she will go to Paris one day…”
And just like that, it had been decided, I was destined to travel. Barely hours old and I’d already been given mission, the wheels had been set in motion.
Whether I believe this is actually what was said at the time of my I arrival or not is now irrelevant and inconsequential, the truth is, I am and have always been a traveller. A free spirit…
Nomadic by nature, knowing personal truth in Tolkein’s “not all those who wander are lost”. Is their Gypsy blood? If I didn’t possess the all too telling family features, I would swear I’d been whisked away from the back of a Gypsy wagon. Wrong century perhaps? Genetic likeness to strong? Okay, yes I know, not plausible.
If you ever catch yourself wondering if things ever change,
Just raise your eyes towards the clouds as they move swiftly on their way.
Bringing form and depth to bright blue skies,
Creating shadows, rain, hail and snow.
Whether flying high above or admiring from down below, clouds put on a Spec-tacular show…
Just when I think I have surely seen all there is out on the streets… I walk down a new street or retrace old steps and uncover something that has been altered, is gone completely or is unfamiliar and new.
Street art has a way of reminding me how impermanent life is. Maybe that’s why I like it so much. Enjoying things as they are in the moment. If it is something pleasing, embrace it and except that it will change. If it is not so pleasing, understand that in time, it too will also change.
Day turns to night
Night fades to black
Another day has passed us by again.
Come rain, come sun, come cloud filled skies.
Well, life is always full of surprises and finding myself still living in New Zealand for almost two years now is no exception to this. I guess it was bound to happen really as I fell madly, truly, deeply under the spell of this bewitchingly beautiful country the moment I sailed in from French Polynesia in 2006. It was only a matter of time before I’d be back!
Checking our last way-point at 4 am in the morning, first officer Dave from the Seychelles disappeared down below, leaving me on the flybridge alone to marvel at the hue of light rising up from the land we were now approaching. Mind drifting off, wondering what this mysterious North Isle of New Zealand had install for us.
Stepping onto the plane, I could hardly contain my excitement… Hearing the familiar, comforting click of the seat belt and not long after, the forward motion and lift off of flight. No delays today. I’d made it. My idea, my plan, my pipe dream, had finally come together. 15 hours to LA, a further 5 hours flying cross continent to the East Coast, one very trashed suitcase later and I’d arrived.
Hello New York City…
Early rise again. It’s funny, you know you’re back in Oz when immediately on waking, not yet moving a muscle or opening your eyes, your ears are flooded with the distinctive sound of the early morning bird chatter.
There’s nothing quite like it!
Such unique, almost comical sounds and so loud and boisterous! Ok, ok, I hear you…!