The Second Coming

Now on separate flights, arriving in O’Hare within a half-hour of each other. I’m in a speck in the sky, somewhere in the turbulent blogosphere above Lake Superior, typing at four hundred miles per hour, killing time.

We bookended our trip with a return to Paris, walking up and down the stairs of Hotel Bonsejour and receiving help from Aunt Linda and having fun with her and her friends all over again. Here are the pictures. I think that of all the cities we went to, Paris is our favorite.

To anyone who has actually been reading this: thanks for letting us know from time to time that we weren’t just typing into Internet wasteland. We hope that some of our observations had their own merit, and for those who have just been reading along to keep tabs on our whereabouts, we always appreciated that too. With all the interesting things going on in fascinating parts of the world—and in Iowa and New Hampshire—and with all the quality travel and history books that better cover topics and places we’ve touched on, it’s nice that some people (admittedly, people that we know) care that Annalise and I did this, and then that….

Here’s something that’s over-rated about travelling abroad: food and drink is as good as it gets, in the US. This is because not one thing we ate or drank in Europe isn’t imported, somewhere, to a storefront on Clark or Lincoln Avenue in Chicago. So, despite the presence of huge Guinness souvenir stores in Dublin, and the existence of Italian food in, oh, Italy….well, in case it hasn’t been obvious throughout life, you can sample the finest from all European cuisine from within one, big melted pot. We look forward to having everything packed onto the same city block, walking distance from our new apartment, and in a more favorable currency. (Obviously, there are exceptions.)

We’d go again, though, for sights, and perhaps for sounds too. Actually seeing things in 3D, hearing the funny accents in person, and covering miles upon miles of museums, languages and people makes you feel like you belong to a collection of places, and not to just some small cloud of space surrounding an arbitrary A-B daily commute, but to a bigger world. The depth and breadth of travel scope this sense of belonging, and, in the end, we feel good with our scoping of Western Europe. Moreover, becoming transplantable by virtue of constant relocation sometimes feels like being freed of everything that makes life seem to go by fast: routines, backdrops, possessions, stability, “other plans,” and attachments to things overall. I think we both hope to do something like this again.

We also hope to continue this blog, though make no promises. There may, at the very least, be some pictures from time to time, so check in now and again.

Boy, we still don’t need to put our tray tables up. According to my watch, we should land in 20 minutes. I’ll probably be the second one of us to arrive.