They Had Grown Tired...

What a beautiful idea, and tragic end to the story of the simple cyclists, senselessly run down on their bikes in Tajikstan.  Dreams ended, powerful ideals extinguished, the worst case scenario for such a trip.

Their sentiment of office fatigue - and the excitement of escape - well understood in these quarters.  Time sheets and password changes.  The colour beige.  Heh.  A need to do something inspiring before it is too late.  (It grows ever so late.  Reminders all around.)

In that spirit, spontaneous decision made to see some whales on Friday this morning as part of a reconnaissance mission while the car's fuel sensor was being fixed.  With all the whale paraphernalia acquired since last October, it would be a shame not to see that dream through for next year.  This afternoon to be spent looking into the foundations of a business plan, to be filled in with a closer assessment of the region "sur place" 48 hours from now.  White collar dreams, mocked Omer in response to the plan.  Such an overwhelming sense through this lull period, that you need to simply do it.  Or at least something tied to that place.

Venice hotel also booked this week.  After pouring over the options I think you have happened upon the right choice.  Whether or not you get the benefit of both nights (and/or can attend the festival of the Most on Erasmo) remains to be seen, but I have confidence at least in the night of the 6th working out.  Hopefully enough time for the start of planning for 2019, pre-Freeport?  As always, I wonder so.

More after the tour of the Freeport Safe Zone (haha), drive to the cottage on Saturday, and the season opener at City from Boston Pizza Bridgewater...