I have seriously been on island time since, like, April. I'm counting New Zealand as an island. Or two. Anywho, I have oods to catch up on and now have reliable Rarotongan internet as my blogging steed.
I'd like to blame wedding prep and subsequent marrying for my off the gridedness, but that would be unfair to the institution and to the good folks at our bungalow resort that actually did the work. To be honest, I've just been incredibly lazy. I've also found that the longer we're gone the fewer times each day that I'm like "hey, look at this crazy thing, I wonder what this means?" and more like "do you want to rent a DVD?"
I guess at some point (month 9?) the novelty of travel wears off. Which isn't to say its less fun. In some ways, I prefer this phase because now it all feels like bonus time. We're relaxed about what we do and see each day. Rather than buying tickets to go to "Island Night" for traditional dance and barbequed pig or whatever, we're psyched to take long walk on the islands' back roads. An evening of home made dinner in our bungalow (spaghetti & champagne tonight) rates as highly as finding a hidden bar that serves cobra hearts. Its not less fun than it was before, its just less intense.
There is a quote in "We Need to Talk About Kevin" where the narrator, a former travel book author, writes "Countries all have different weather, but they all have weather of some sort, architecture of some sort, a disposition toward burping at the dinner table that regards it as flattering or rude. Hence, I had begun to attend less to whether one was expected to leave one's sandals at the door in Morocco than to the constant that, wherever I was, its culture would have a custom about shoes." Sing out, girl.
I'd like to blame wedding prep and subsequent marrying for my off the gridedness, but that would be unfair to the institution and to the good folks at our bungalow resort that actually did the work. To be honest, I've just been incredibly lazy. I've also found that the longer we're gone the fewer times each day that I'm like "hey, look at this crazy thing, I wonder what this means?" and more like "do you want to rent a DVD?"
I guess at some point (month 9?) the novelty of travel wears off. Which isn't to say its less fun. In some ways, I prefer this phase because now it all feels like bonus time. We're relaxed about what we do and see each day. Rather than buying tickets to go to "Island Night" for traditional dance and barbequed pig or whatever, we're psyched to take long walk on the islands' back roads. An evening of home made dinner in our bungalow (spaghetti & champagne tonight) rates as highly as finding a hidden bar that serves cobra hearts. Its not less fun than it was before, its just less intense.
There is a quote in "We Need to Talk About Kevin" where the narrator, a former travel book author, writes "Countries all have different weather, but they all have weather of some sort, architecture of some sort, a disposition toward burping at the dinner table that regards it as flattering or rude. Hence, I had begun to attend less to whether one was expected to leave one's sandals at the door in Morocco than to the constant that, wherever I was, its culture would have a custom about shoes." Sing out, girl.
