Winter in Sydney isn’t bad; there’s no snow. There’s no sleet, no black ice, no strepth throat.
But it is cold. It rains. The wind cuts through grid-pattern streets on a mission to hound the poor souls retreating from work at night.
So fuck that. We’re off again.
It’s funny… this time one year a year ago we were walking the streets of Carcassonne on a pleasant French summer day. And this time tomorrow we’ll be in Los Angeles.
It’s been a weird week but this morning I pulled my long forgotten board shorts and thongs from their forgotten places at the bottom of the closet and I smiled because I knew it won’t be too long before we’ll be enjoying summer again.
Today: Sydney… I can’t get to the Airport quickly enough.
Tomorrow: Los Angeles, California.
