Day... Zero

Now is the time, the time is now.  3:30PM in Ushuaia.  Bags packed, ready to go.  Just under an hour before we walk down for the formal arrival to get stuck in for awhile.

This has been a fun lobby to hang out in these past few days.  Go through a bit of last minute sniffles and throat soreness so as to be prepared for it setting out.  Whoa baby.  Almost too overwhelming to even imagine all the days and weeks and months since you sat at the Ovens watching the Picton Castle sail off on its October 2015 Atlantic crossing.  It took two and a half years, but here are dreams realized.  So many sleeps, and now the next one aboard in your new home for 8 weeks.

Hard to even remember what the office looks like.  Heh.  I am sure it will seem even more remote shortly.

Good work, McMahon.  Go soak in the spoils of the planning, sacrifice, visions, initiative, skill, wonder that has brought you to this point.  Forget not this hostel as the staging ground.  Brilliant to the last.

More anon, in April.