Of love and dreams to share. (Day 8)

Behind door number eight we find... an airplane!

For that explains the break in my diligent posting schedule that occurred on Friday. Four airplanes, actually. Plus a number of shuttles, vans, and a very unexpected chartered bus ride back to NYC from Allentown, Pennsylvania. (Don’t ask.)

So those are the shitty things about travel. But they generally tend to be outweighed by the good things. I’ve always loved traveling, and have been fortunate in that I’ve been able to do a good deal of it. There’s something so great about getting out of the routine and placing yourself in the middle of somewhere new; somewhere different and strange.

And there were things about this weekend that were different, that’s for sure. For instance, upon finding ourselves stranded in Minneapolis late Friday night and crashing at a Holiday Inn that was overrun with frat boys drinking at the hotel bar, Johnny Cash blaring in the background, we were surprised to notice the large signs posted at the lobby entrance adamantly banning guns on the premises. Phew. I know I felt safer! (God, I’m such a city bumpkin.)