In preparation for one of the longer travel days of my life, I have some serious packing to do. I have a ton of things to tell you about, but I hope you forgive me as I think I’ll pend them until tomorrow (when I have extensive sitting on my butt plane time and a five-hour layover at Charles de Gaulle to find an internet hot spot.)
In exchange for your indulgence, I’ll post some pictures from the last couple days, and hopefully the captions will satisfy any Turkey cravings. Be careful the triptophan chaser. It’s a doozy.
As for me, the hostel no longer offers running water, and a strange man walked into the room T and I share while I was changing (she was downstairs at the time). It’s time to go.
It’s been a long, short, strange, complicated, exhilarating, exhausting, frustrating, and wonderful three months. In a way, I’m sorry to see it end. On the other hand, if there is one thing you know about me by now, it’s that I like to move on. And I’m ready. Admittedly, the locale isn’t quite so exotic, but I’m certain the story will continue to be compelling. And if it isn’t, I’ll just start making sh*t up.
So I leave you tonight with the (immortal?) words of Mr. Tom Petty,
Time to move on. Time to get going,
What lies ahead, I have no way of knowing
Under my feet, babe, the grass is growing
Time to move on. Time to get going.