SiMonica’s Voyage

On our first day in Killarney, Simon finally bit the bullet and shaved off his beard. He had been discussing for several months his idea of blending into the different cultures we’re visiting by styling his facial hair in the local fashion. He somehow thought that we were visiting Ireland circa 1972 so he could simply have long mutton chops, but alas, it’s 2006 and clean shaven faces are the look for men around here.

He shaved it off in steps that you will soon be able to see on our photo page. He ended with a completely different appearance that he went into the bathroom with. I think it’s safe to say that this is the only time since we started dating that Simon actually looks younger than I do. Anyhow, it was a huge step to take and now we’re both waiting for the beard to grow back. In Italy he plans to maintain a consistent 5 o’clock shadow (but I think he’ll get lazy and just not shave until my cousin’s wedding at the Vatican, the Pope would not approve).

Thus, with new husband in tow, we set about exploring Killarney and rented bikes for a great ride around the Muckross Lake which included stopping by a 15th Century Abbey. Yesterday we took the long, long bus ride to Dublin and settled into our enormous hostel – it has 220 beds. (Our room only had 10 people though, don’t worry). We walked around after checking in and promptly found a pub that had both live music and great pints of Guiness. We were about to leave this fine establishment when the musicians started playing Johnny Cash, Ring of Fire. We had to stay if only because this was the second night in a row that we heard Irish musicians in pubs of ‘Traditional Irish Music’ playing Johnny Cash. It was followed by a piece from the movie Deliverance though, so I guess it was ok. We then decided to walk around to the Liffey and check out Temple Bar. This area was quite ridiculous and filled with rather unattractive people who were quite amusing to observe from our perch in the second floor of a pub. There seems to be a phenomenon here of groups of women going out and getting wasted, in matching outfits. Be it bright pink cowboy hats or bunny ears, these women are crazy and rather mystifying. We took some photos of such people at the pub we went to in Killarney so you can see this debauchery for yourself. The best thing is, no one else seems to find this odd at all. Or maybe they’re just too drunk to tell.

Today we took the DART down to Bray, where my father’s Irish ancestors came from several generations ago. It was a quaint seaside town which is also a wealthy commuter suburb. We had a great lunch at a small cafe, which consisted of baked potato, baby potatoes with spinach and cheese, spinach and tomato tart, couscous salad, and some other salads. Fully satiated, we hopped the DART back to Dublin and walked around the city.

Tomorrow at 6:15 am we’ll be flying out to Venice! Thanks to all the Italian tourist groups here in Ireland, I don’t think the adjustment will be too difficult. I’m looking forward to some cappuccino’s and red wine. I think I’ve had my fill of beer for several months.

At this point we’ll be in Italy for at least the next month and a half, travelling through Venice, Bologna, Milano, Como, Castelnuovo Belbo (Piemonte), Cinque Terre, Lucca, Arezzo, Florence, San Marino, L’Aquila, Roma, Naples and Sicily. Keep checking in the next week or so for stories of our adventures in Italia!

Try as we might, we were not able to leave Galway today and did not make it to Killarney. We originally came to Galway in order to see the Aran Islands, and then were going to leave that same evening for Killarney, and take a tour around the Ring of Kerry (we’re such tourists). However, when we got to Galway yesterday afternoon, it turned out that the earliest boat from the Aran Islands does not return to Galway until after the last bus for Killarney leaves from the Galway bus station. Thus, we decided that we’ll go on a tour of The Burren, which is just to the south of Galway. The Burren includes some castles, the Cliffs of Moher, and some old Celtic burial sites. Altogether, the landscape reminds people of the moon, with it’s overfarmed and treeless panoramas and small hills full of limestones.

So, after going out last night with an Austrian couple and having a few very tasty beers, we boarded the bus around the corner from our hostel and were on our way to The Burren. The bus driver/tour guide was a little repetetive, for the non-English speakers, but the tour was good overall. After stopping at the first castle, on the way to the cliffs, Monica started exploring our camera, and accidentally formatted our memory card which resulted in us losing all of the photos since we left the States. Unfortunately for everyone, we no longer have evidence of the sunny weather that greeted us in Ireland, nor of the hospitable couple that provided shelter for us during the first 2 days of our trip. Sorry everyone, but you’ll just have to use your imagination to picture the vast green pastures, cows, sheep, and people. After this disheartening episode (we lost about 100 photos) we stopped at a little village of Doolin, had some lunch, and then moved on to the Cliffs of Moher. There were a lot of tour buses there. The cliffs were nice, and they reminded me a little of the cliffs in Point Lobos south of Monterey, California. At a certain point in the path along the cliffs, there was a large sign that warned visitors to not stray past that point. No matter, there were crowds of people plowing ahead, and sitting on the precipice. We were warned by numerous individuals to not cross that line, as a few dozen people every year are simply blown off the edge, never to be found. We heeded their advice. The bus made one last stop at an ancient dolmen, which was about 5000 years old, and we headed back to Galway. We were a little skeptical of making our bus at 6:05 P.M. from Galway to Killarney, but were hopeful, since the tour guide said that he expected us to be back in the city by 5:50 P.M. It was not meant to be, since we made it to the city after the bus left, and despite our best efforts to stall the bus, or find a private bus company to take us there, we had to stay in Galway for one more night, and leave for Killarney tomorrow morning. We won’t be taking the tour of the Ring of Kerry, but we’ll try to rent some bikes and ride around.

Due to the fact that we erased evidence of the nice weather, it took a turn for the worse today, and started raining. The hostel that we’re staying at is very nice and clean though, so we don’t mind.

We have finally figured out that the source of Monica’s friendliness comes from her Irish blood. We arrived in Dublin on Monday morning, and were picked up friends of Monica’s relatives, Denis and Alice. Denis picked us up and drove us toMonaghan, the county seat of County Monaghan , which is located close to the border with Northern Ireland. Both Alice and Denis grew up in Northern Ireland, but are both Catholic. More about this later. Were were pretty tired, and after being treated to a fine breakfast of sausages, bacon, and some other meats, and soda bread, we were driven to their son’s place, which is about 2 minutes away, and took a rest for a few hours. Denis picked us up in the afternoon, and drove us to Castle Leslie, about 20 minutes fromMonaghan , where he works as the head administrator and the head of his security firm. The castle was built in the 1600s, and has a long and glamorous history. They are also related to Winston Churchill, which seems to be a common trait among nobility. During the Great Irish Potato Famine, theLeslies fed the people who lived on their land, and the people were forever grateful. Now the castle, which is more of a grand mansion, is a place for events, and has a few rooms for rent, as well as a fine restaurant. They even offer cooking classes. Denis has been working there for 14 years, and we were lucky to be shown around, seeing as it is not open for simple visiting. We saw the women’s and men’s bathrooms, which are always interesting for some strange/perverse reason. In the evening, Denis cooked a fine meal of chicken breasts stuffed with leeks, bread, and onion, covered in white wine sauce, and a side of caramelized onions in red wine sauce. The obligatory boiled potato tasted very good. In fact, the potatoes in Ireland taste very good. I guess, it’s been perfected. The evening was spent on the patio of their house, where we drank a few beers.

The next day, meaning yesterday, we went to the town where Felicitas (Monica’s relative) and Alice grew up, called Pomeroy, in Northern Ireland. It is a small town, and due to this fact, Alice had a lot of stories to tell us about other families. While her family was lucky enough not to be directly touched by “The Troubles,” the question of unifying Northern Ireland with the Republic of Ireland, many people that she knew in the town, were touched. She recounted a number of stories of youth being killed by the IRA or the British Army. Except for the occasional Union Jack, and the large poster of the famous hunger strike of 1971, there were now few visible signs of the conflict. However, there used to be roadblocks and full-on inspections when you crossed from the Republic to the North, and viceversa. Additionally, people used to be scared to visit there. As a funny aside, once we got to Pomeroy , there was a very small market there, right in the center of town, and I spotted some very tasty-looking tomatoes. I picked out one, and the farmer said “30 p, please.” So I handed him 30 cents (European cents), feeling proud of my ability to find the right coins. He gave me a look that said, “You’re not from here” and Alice came to the rescue with 30p. Since, Northern Ireland is still part of the UK, their currency is the pound. Alice, due to frequent visits to here relatives, carries two separate wallets for the Republic and for the North.

Everywhere, everything is green, and cows and sheep are grazing every little piece of land. Even next to the runway in Dublin. We took Alice and Denis out for dinner at a fancy restaurant inMonaghan , and the cow did taste good, all tender and free range. The Irish coffee was strong, and I felt a little woozy. In the evening, we went to the going away party for the student from Barcelona that was staying with Alice and Denis for three weeks, while he was studying at a very expensive English-language program for rich Spanish kids. It was silly, and not very cute.

This morning, we took a five-hour bus ride to Galway, on the mid-west coast of Ireland, and tomorrow we’ll be going to the Aran Islands, and then to Killarney.

The Catholicism of this country is striking, and is going to be a whole separate post. One last note though. While we were on the plane to Ireland, we had to fill out standard international entry cards. One field asked to fill out our “occupation” and we didn’t really know anymore. We filled it out with our old occupations, but it felt a little unnatural.

That’s all for now. We hope everyone is doing well, and we’re going now to explore Galway.

This evening we’ll be departing from Logan International and will be arriving in Dublin at 7:30 am Monday!

We will be spending a few days with friends of my family in Monaghan and then tour around the country stopping in Galway with a sidetrip to the Aran Islands, Killarney – where we’ll see the Ring of Kerry and Cork, and then back to Dublin where we’ll spend the weekend before departing early on the 31st for Venice.

After several years of planning and saving it hasn’t quite hit me that we’re on our trip already…I guess I need some jet lag to confirm this for certain. The next post will be written in Ireland!!

Day 1
On the day of the final game of the World Cup, i.e. last Sunday, the 9th of July, we got up early and embarked on a 4 day camping trip to Yosemite. We had to get rather early, seeing as we wanted to catch the final game which started at 11 AM and we had to make it to Groveland by that time. Groveland is a small town, located about 40 miles west of Yosemite. It has a bar called the “Iron Door Saloon” and as it turns out, the famed iron doors had to be imported from England when the saloon opened in 1863. Every summer from 7 to 12 grade, I went to Groveland with my theater group, and we stayed in a large house for a week at Pine Mountain Lake, which is located in this little city. Hard as we tried, we did not make it to Groveland on time, and thus had to listen to the first thirty minutes of the game on a Spanish radio station, where they broadcasted it with the required drawn out screams of “Goooooooooooooooooool!!!!” (thrice). To my surprise, the saloon had TVs, not large ones, but good enough, and a great selection of beers. Also, to my surprise, there was a fairly large crowd of people enjoying the game, including some locals, which Monica, in her friendly nature, had the opportunity to befriend. The game, as some of you may know, was intense, and while both teams played well, Italy won. Zissou’s (Zidane’s) headbutting of an Italian player during the 110th minute of the game added to the drama of the game. I don’t really know what the Italian player said to Zidane, but it seemed to have really touched a nerve, pretty hard. While some of us were disappointed with the results, and other were more pleased, we left Groveland immediately after the game, and continued on our route to Yosemite. The locals advised Monica to visit the Rainbow Pool, which is located on the way to Yosemite, and has a cliff where people jump off of. We found this hole, and all four of us jumped off the main cliff into cold water. There was also a natural water slide next to the waterfall. Everyone, other than me, slid down the slide. Jumping was exhilarating, and allowed us to forget about the results of the recent game. Aside from us, there were a bunch of high school or college-age kids, seemingly also locals, who have been coming there for ages, and performing amazing acrobatics off the cliffs. After enjoying the refreshing dive and swim, we continued down the highway and checked in to our camping ground, Yosemite Lakes, located five miles west of the entrance to Yosemite National Park. The campgrounds were nice, with a picnic table, and a place to build a fire with a retractable grill. We set up our tents, one of which was given to us for our wedding. It was a very comfortable and well made tent. (I am not sure that the words comfortable and tent, go hand in hand, so I will refrain from using this adjective in this case.) With the bought firewood, we grilled some chicken (it became charred very quickly, despite being placed around the flame, not directly on top of it. Our dinner consisted of grilled chicken fajitas with beans, grated cheese, medium salsa, and fried zucchini. Delicious. For some reason, camping makes one very hungry. After dinner activity involved getting in our car and driving to the other part of the campgrounds, which consisted of a slight river and a giant RV park. The RV park probably had enough people to qualify as a small city, and had a shuffleboard contraption. We turned in around 9 in the evening. The ground was hard, despite the sleeping pads and seemingly soft sandy ground underneath the tents.

Day 2

After waking up in the morning and having some cereal for breakfast, we got in the car and headed for Yosemite. Our plan for the day was to drive to Tuolumne Meadows, do a small hike there, and then drive to Mariposa Grove, and take a stroll through the famous sequoia forest. As it turned out, Yosemite is quite large, and Tuolumne Meadows were about an hour away from the entrance to the park. The meadows are located at an elevation of about 8500 feet in the High Country of Yosemite. The landscape there is quite different from the landscape in Yosemite Valley. It is much more barren and is generally cooler. Back when I would go to Groveland during summers in school, we would always go backpacking with the group for a few days, and now in retrospect I realize that some of those trips were in the High Country. However, hiking with 50 pounds on your back is a whole different experience than walking around with a Camelbak and a car waiting for you down the hill. The hike was about 5 miles, and included a visit to Dog Lake (we couldn’t figure out from its shape whether why it was given such a moniker) and then to Lambert Dome. On the dome, which is completely barren, we met a science teacher from Oakland who told us about erratics – large rocks or boulders that can be seen throughout the park, that were placed there by the retreating glaciers. We descended the dome, and came back to our car and were glad to wear breathable shoes once again. Then we started on our drive to Mariposa Grove, which turned out to be about two hours away. Everyone passed out, and I was left to my own devices and thoughts about the beautiful nature, and how long it must’ve taken back in the days of stagecoaches to get to Yosemite. By the time we got to Mariposa Grove, it was about 6 o’clock in the evening, and we had a chance to only go for a short walk. We visited the Grizzly Giant tree and the California Tree. As an aside, at the parking lot, the sign indicated that the Grizzly Giant was 0.8 miles away, and after we walked 0.3 miles, another sign indicated that the aforementioned tree was only 0.3 miles away and that the parking lot was 0.3 miles back. We couldn’t figure out how this simple exercise in addition went awry, and proceeded to the Grizzly Giant. It was really large, as the others, and was 2700 years old. 50 yards up the trail, we took photographs in front of the California Tree. This tree is notable for the fact that at the turn of the century two trees in the forest had large archways cut through them, in order for stagecoaches to pass through. As you can imagine, this was not very good for the tree, and the first one died, while this one still remains, although in a highly weakened state. Nonetheless, this little gimmick attracted a large enough number of people, to convince national park officials to include Wawona County in Yosemite National Park. The road to Mariposa Grove was windy and so I requested for us to return before sundown. As we were approaching Yosemite Valley, the sun was just right, and Monica took some beautiful photos of the sunset on Half Dome.

However, the real fun started when we came back to our campground and decided to cook some dinner. It was already dark, but no one was sleeping at the neighboring campsites. We built a fire, and set a pot of water to boil for pasta. Fifteen minutes later, once the water boiled, Monica placed the pasta in the water. We noticed that the fire was dying out, and that the logs needed to be slightly rearranged. Monica went over to the fire to perform this task. However, our grill was always at a slight angle due to the fact that it was on a slight slope, and the pot of water with the pasta slid down and toppled over onto the ground. Monica was upset, but fortunately, we had another bag of pasta, and we quickly set a new pot of water to boil, and started cleaning up the pasta from the ground. Unfortunately, it was already slightly soggy, so we picked up a fair amount of dirt with it. The second pot of water came to a boil, and this time, we were more cautious with our handling of the pot. The pasta was delicious, seeing as we brought along a jar of pasta sauce, and also mixed in the remains of our Gouda cheese and the grated cheese from the night prior. We cleaned up the table, and decided that it would be nice to make some s’mores. Sasha had never had s’mores, and Katya didn’t really like them, but she liked marshmallows, nonetheless. As we prepared the pieces of chocolate and the graham crackers, our neighbors turned on their car alarm and started flashing their headlights. They ran over to us, and pointed a large flashlight into the woods behind our tents and told us, “Look, there’s a large bear out there!” Indeed. We saw the eyes, and an outline of the large bear, and started worrying about whether the bear had dinner yet. Apparently, the bear was just as scared of us, and our neighbors started banging on pots and pans, in order to scare the bear off. Another couple from the campground came to our campsite and told us that the same bear was near them 15 minutes ago. Meanwhile, our neighbors told the camp ranger about the bear sighting, to which they instructed us to make more noise. Eventually the bear left our campground. A few minutes later we heard more rustling in the trees close to our tents, but we made some noise to scare it off. A few more minutes passed, and the bear was sighted by our neighbor who went to water a nearby tree, and much to his chagrin was met by the fierce glowing eyes of the bear. Twenty minutes went by, and a ranger arrived on an old jeep, the kind that mailmen drive in the suburbs, complete with a steering wheel on the right-hand side. He drove around, revving his engine and shining his lights in various directions. Then he departed, telling us to lock our food in the car and not bring any of it into our tents. He also told us that nobody has ever been attacked by a bear at their campsite and that they didn’t have any bear-proof food storage containers that are common in Yosemite. We worried a little, made a few off-hand jokes about bears eating us at night, and went to sleep around 11:30 in the evening.

Day 3

The third day began with an early awakening in order to start on our major day hike before it got too hot. We made sandwiches, and headed for the Yosemite Valley floor where we were to start on our 4.6 mile hike up the deceptively named Four Mile Trail to Glacier Point. The ascent was about 3000 feet. We parked our car at a parking lot and discovered a couple that was parked next to us and were arguing over something. It turned out that they had the misfortune of renting an “intelligent” car which locked their keys inside. We wished them luck, took some pictures, and left. The hike was strenuous, but not unbearable due to the frequent breaks that we took and the beautiful vistas along the whole trail. For three-fourths of the trip up we had a spectacular view of the valley floor, El Capitan, and Yosemite Falls, and for the latter quarter, we saw the other side of the valley, with a great view of Half Dome. About a quarter of the way up the trail, we were passed by a gentleman in his 50s who ran past us. During the last third of the leg up to Glacier Point, he ran past us, on his way back from Glacier Point, and told us that it was going to get easier soon. He was exaggerating, mostly.

But we made it at last, after 3 hours, and proceeded to eat our packed lunches in a shady area with a view of Half Dome and Nevada and Vernal Falls. The fact that 99% of the other visitors to Glacier Point drove up, didn’t bother us much.

We spent an hour at the peak, and started descending back to the valley, using the same trail. Along the way we lost Sasha’s camera and sighted a bear with two cubs, as well as a doe with a fawn. After getting in the car and unsuccessfully trying to locate the lost and found office, we bought a pint of ice cream and gobbled it up. All day, we had a clear view of the valley floor below and the nice Merced River that flowed through it. We wanted to swim in it, but couldn’t figure out how to approach the designated swimming area. So, we started driving along the river, and Monica spotted a small beach next to a bridge. There was only one family of five at the beach. We decided that this was our spot, parked the car, changed, and went to the beach. The water was ice cold, seeing as it was coming from the nearby mountains and descending via numerous waterfalls around the valley. The only way, it turned out, was to jump into the river from the bridge. It seemed that we developed a pattern, and the height of the bridge was much less than the cliff that we jumped off of just two days before. We each jumped twice, and yes the water was very cold.

Afterward, we drove home, built a fire, made some cheese and broccoli soup, and some s’mores (successfully this time), and turned in for the night. We did hear some rustling in the nearby bushes, and our brave neighbors were gone by then.

Day 4

The plan for the day was to wake up and have two of us drive to Yosemite Valley to the lost and found office to talk to someone about the lost camera. Fortunately, the people at the entrance gate said that the office is very busy, the camera would not have been submitted there yet, and that the best thing to do would be to simply leave them a detailed message. That was fine with us, and saved us a bunch of time. We broke down our camp, gathered all our belongings, and drove to the heart of Gold Country, past Sonora, into the hills, to Moaning Caverns.

Initially, during the California Gold Rush, miners thought that the cave had gold, and after what turned out to be a huge disappointment, abandoned this beautiful and ancient cave. The cave itself is about 400 feet deep, but the tour that we took allowed us to descend to a level of 165 feet below ground. The caves were nice, and you should just look at the pictures that we posted on our photo webpage. Lastly, we made the obligatory stop at In-n-Out Burger.

It was a great trip.

Here are links to pictures of our adventures in Yosemite.

Day 1: http://simonica.smugmug.com/gallery/1674387

Day 2: http://simonica.smugmug.com/gallery/1674881

Day 3: http://simonica.smugmug.com/gallery/1674998

Day 4: http://simonica.smugmug.com/gallery/1675099

P.S. The title is a quote from Borat.

In one week we’ll be leaving for Ireland!
For the past two weeks we have been in California visiting Simon’s family and our friends in San Francisco. We had a great day in San Francisco and walked on the Golden Gate Bridge (there will be photos of this soon on our smugmug page). Last week we took a four day trip to Yosemite and did some wonderful hiking. There will be an expanded post about this trip soon.

Yesterday we celebrated Simon’s mom’s birthday in Gull Park in Foster City. Simon repeated his success with making shashlik (shish kabobs) and we had some tasty salads too. Tomorrow we’ll have the pleasure of having brunch with Heather K’s famed grandmother in San Francisco – maybe she’ll have some travel tips for us. Wednesday we take our last domestic flight in what will be a while and travel back to Boston to my parents’ house for some bbq and last minute visiting and packing.

Today we went to Provincetown, (a.k.a. P-town) Massachusetts, which is at the tip of Cape Cod. We woke up at 6 o’clock in the morning, said goodbye to Monica’s grandparents, and drove to Boston to catch the high-speed ferry toProvincetown. Once we got there around 10 A.M., we walked around the downtown area, heading west, got some baked goods from a Portuguese bakery, got some sandwiches, and headed for Wood End beach. In order to get there we had to trek across a long man-made stone bar for about a mile, and then across hot sand. Once there, it turned out that the beach was largely deserted, and the water was warm enough to swim. After spending a few hours at the beach, and moving our belongings about five times due to a rising tide, we headed back to town to get dinner at Napi’s Restaurant.

For those who have not been to Provincetown, it is a very interesting place. It is a rather posh town that has a well-known gay and lesbian culture and community. It is a liberal place, and reminded us a little of Burning Man with well-toned men walking around in tight fitting shorts, or riding bikes from location to location and being jolly. We saw mostly men because we were in the West End. The women are in the East End, or so we heard. There is a certain joy in the air of the town, and a playful attitude.

While there, two thoughts came to mind. First was that there were very few “white-trash” tourists in the city. This was a noticeable difference from other vacation spots, and probably due to the liberal culture of the city and the upscale shops and lifestyle propagated there. Second, whileProvincetown is not well known outside Massachusetts and the gay and lesbian community, it seemed to me that among those in the know, living or vacationing inProvincetown is a status symbol.

We met up with a friend of ours from Brooklyn, who is working in town for the summer. All the food was good, and we enjoyed our day. Simon got sunburned on his back, his chest and the back of his legs below the knees. Nothing out of the ordinary though.

On the ferry-ride back, we saw about a dozen fireworks displays along the way. Too bad they couldn’t wait until the Fourth of July.

Happy upcoming Fourth of July everyone!

While the title of this post sounds quite dramatic, the reality is less so. In anticipation of our imminent departure from New York on Friday, June 30, 2006, we started packing up our apartment into boxes and sold all of our furniture. Monica thought that we were so well packed, that after we brought the rental truck over, we’d be out of the apartment within 2 hours. I was also optimistic, and said that it would take about 5 hours to move out. As you can imagine, it took much longer than expected, because you’re never really quite packed, due to the fact that you’re still trying to live a normal life in your apartment. After going up and down our stairs all day, we finally departed from New York at 8 in the evening. Our departure was greeted by a downpour and traffic. Along the way, we also got lost two times, and finally made it to the Nonni’s (Monica’s grandparents) house in Bolton, Connecticut. They greeted us with warm soup with ravioli, and chicken parmesan, and melon. The only thing that broke during our trip to Connecticut was the pot for our jade plant. It was a nice pot, but the loss was minimal. We slept like logs that night. In retrospect, it was a great idea to drive only half way to Massachusetts that day.

In the morning, we had a nice breakfast of pancakes, bacon, and orange juice, and left for Wenham, Massachusetts, where Monica’s parents live. Upon our arrival to Wenham, Monica’s parents were awed by the amount of stuff that we brought in the truck. It really wasn’t that much, it was just packaged to look like a lot. We unpacked some of the things, did the laundry, and then went for a walk on Crane Beach. At night, we went to eat some fried seafood. We got a New England Clam Chowder, fried mussells, and a lobster roll, while Monica’s parents each got seafood chowder. Everything was tasty and classic New England. Simon was called a tourist due to the fact that he was taking pictures of everything. Monica was in local mode.

Today, we went to REI to stock up on all the goods that we’ll need for the trip, and used all the gift certificates that we received for our wedding. Thank you all for these. They came in very handy. We bought backpacks, sandals, shoes, and some clothes that we’ll use for the next year.

More to come later.