Those small signs are turning into blatant in-your-face show pony-ness…
Spring is most definitely a’coming, if not already here. It seems that last weeks blast of icy cold air, the constant wind, driving rain and bluster was Winter’s grand finale. Of course, just as the weather is finally deciding to behave, we’re heading to a warmer clime, a slower pace of island time and to one of our happy places.
Like a lot of southerners, each Winter our thoughts turn northwards – up there where the air is warmer during these dark, damp months down here, where three pairs of socks are not essential, where drinks come with little umbrellas, where little blonde pikininnies squeal with the arrival of Aunty Emma and Uncle Matt.
We’re off on a little tropical holiday, across a (very small) sea, two days of traveling, three flights, three hours driving a bumpy road and we should find ourselves in rural Papua New Guinea. You see, my husband dearest doesn’t do the island holiday well. He will not sit by a pool reading a book, he just won’t. So for the past few years when our eyes gaze longingly north at this time of year, we head to a sprawling cattle property in a wide lush valley in Papua New Guinea. Isn’t that what everyone does for their holidays? No? Ok… This time the over-active husband is looking to do a hike in the hot, sweaty jungle. Again, some sort of ‘holiday’? Weirdo.
No need to despair though, you can’t get rid of me that easily! I’ve got some posts in the pipeline to keep you entertained, and if you’re lucky I might just put my mojito down long enough to pop in and say hello. I’ll see you on the flip side, hopefully with a healthy sunkissed glow and some improved pidgin. Bon voyage!