I've Got the Ho-Hum Doldrums

It's a beautiful spring day in Toronto. It was bright and sunny and warm, all of those good things. We have survived our first Canadian winter in a couple of years -- it seemed ages long, and yet we only arrived when it was already half over. Long weekends are soon upon us, and we're starting to make plans for weekend getaways over the summer. This is a season of optimism and hope. We should be cheered by the longer days. We should be making the most of them, going out for walks after dinner when it's still bright outside. It's only a matter of days until we start seeing people on patios, and soon I'll be able to wear sandals (but not for long! Work mandates closed toes only.)

People keep asking me: "Does it feel like you never left?" What do I say? Yes, in some ways -- I have slid back into my old life, my old ways, very easily. Nepal and New Zealand are like a distant dream now, an experience I hardly remember. I remember that I felt something when the Himalayas opened up before me, sitting in the back of a tiny hatchback surrounded by goats. I remember that same feeling when we turned the corner and started to walk down the Hooker Track. In both cases it was more than an experience; I can't even say that I was struck by it. I was flat-out walloped by it. I was floored. It was like overload -- the sparkling sunlight, the waving grasses, the dewy mornings. The mountains stretched out so high and yet so wide that I could only take it all in one scene at a time. I wanted to stand still and stare forever, and yet I couldn't help moving forward because I just had to see what was next. And now? I power through my morning routine, sit on the subway. Coffee and breakfast at work. Break. Lunch. Work. Home. Power through dinner, power through my workout. Chores. Litterbox. Shower. Bed. Repeat, repeat, repeat. Life is no longer about experiencing; it's about survival. We're trying to relax more, to keep that chilled-out attitude that we got so GOOD at while we were gone. However, thinking about how we were while we were gone reminds us that we're not gone. We're here. We're home.

What I wouldn't give to be on an airplane right now.

NUMB3RS

Now that the trip of a lifetime is coming to a close, we can allow the expected analysis to begin. We will start with the numbers; luckily, Excel is not necessary.

Number of flights taken: 19
Number of countries visited: 16
Number of kilometres: according to our RTW ticket, 39,000 or so.
Number of days away from home: 448
Number of times forced to watch Horton Hears a Who: 3
Number of times Step Up: The Streets watched voluntarily: 3 (I like dance movies.)
Number of pairs of shoes worn: 4
Number of boats ridden: 8 (me) + 2 (BG)
Number of times seasick: 1 (me) + 2 (BG)
Number of flat tires changed in a four-week trip through southern Africa: 7
Number of people being crammed into a 12-seater bus: 18
Number of months without snow: 20
Number of packages shipped home: 10
Number of laptop repair visits: 4
Number of times BG stayed up all night rebuilding laptop: 4
Number of teabags being brought home from Mauritius: 350
Number of kilograms of chocolate being brought home from Switzerland: 3.2
Number of photos taken on this trip: 15,000 or so.
Number of times violently ill from stomach bugs: 0 (Yay!)
Number of days a shower was skipped: 4 (not bad...)