Cue The Music, Pull the Curtain
Thursday, December 13th, 2007A few days ago, we were dragging our feet towards the end of this trip. When we left the South Island, we drove slowly towards the port where the ferry was docked. We didn’t talk much. A dark sullen cloud hung over us, and we even discussed ways we could continue to travel. (If all 4,000+ visitors to this blog just donated $3, then we could travel for another six months! This was our plan. To be facilitated by PayPal.)
Now, we’re counting the hours until we leave. We can’t wait to get back to America (angels singing ahhhhhhh). What possibly could have changed our attitudes so drastically in just a few days? A few shit towns.
We’ve discovered a cure for people infected with the travel virus who detest the idea of returning home. All you have to do, is go to some really crappy places. New Zealand is a beautiful country, but even pretty girls get huge pus-oozing boils on their butts where no one can see. We stumbled upon these butt boils, per say, and they were wretched places. Places full of people who looked like aliens, crumbling buildings and beaches that resembled warzones. Places with newspaper headlines full of stabbings and shootings. Places without bumbling mountain streams to drink from and picturesque sunsets.
And just like that, our dread was replaced with homesickness. I miss grocery stores, huge grocery stores with ten varieties of anything on your list. I miss salad bars. I miss waitresses and people who are friendly in hopes that you’ll tip them. I miss the constitutional amendment “No shirt, no shoes, no service” and soft-serve ice cream and marching bands and tacos. And the beverage choices! America has no idea how spoiled they are when it comes to beverages. My dreams are filled with Izze and Vitamin Water.
In a few hours we go to the airport. Four planes and fifteen hours later we’ll be in San Francisco, relishing in Americana. My fingers are crossed that I’ll see a marching band…
brooke.pearson8