Royal Wedding - and re-orientation

Luckily for me, the U.S. seems to have enjoyed the Royal Wedding. It's all over the newspapers and TV here. Thanks to this, and to the magic of the internet, I've enjoyed it too and am happily up to speed on all things Kate and William.

Wow. What a beautiful wedding. It was so classy and, despite the formality, it radiated warmth and love. Kate's dress and hair were just gorgeous. How elegantly beautiful did she and Pippa look? I loved that they were both very natural, yet polished and classic. Kate always appears confident and poised without seeming arrogant. And I SO want the white angora cardigan she wore to the evening reception:

(Thank you, Daily Mail and the Official Royal Wedding website for the images).

Did I get a little carried away there? Er, oops.

Travel blog. Right.

So, I'm now ensconced in my little beach cottage at Pleasure Point. It's only a block back from the beach. The landlord, Annie, lives next door and is super nice. She's a surfing instructor, so we organised for me to take lessons from her starting in week's time, after she returns from house-sitting in Venice, LA. As you do.

Getting out of bed is always tough when your body thinks it's midnight, but today was another lovely, sunny day, and a good dose of melatonin works wonders on the old pineal gland. I got in my big, fat, red baby truck and headed out to the National Marine Fisheries Service (NMFS) labs to time how long it took, given that I'm staying about 6km east of where I was last year. It took 22 minutes. I wonder how much longer that'll be in traffic on Monday.

Next on the agenda was going to be breakfast at a Farmer's Market I'd visited last year, but I'd brought the wrong brochure with me so didn't have the address, and I couldn't managed to find it from memory. So instead I headed to Safeway (supermarket) on Mission St., grabbed some sushi and a chai latte from their cafe, read the Royal Wedding coverage in the San Francisco Chronicle and stocked up on groceries. Um, and on U.S. Royal Wedding souvenir magazines. Just to mark the occasion. Not that I'm obsessed or anything.

I love U.S. supermarkets. Despite increasing convergence on the grocery front between Australia and the U.S. (although I hope we never get Cool Whip - and probably the U.S. folks would wish the same viz-a-viz Vegemite), it's still fun to check out the different products. And to discover that chickpeas are called "Garbanzo Beans" here. Wild! Naturally I laid in a supplys of Reese's Peanut Butter Cups :-)

Here I am outside the supermarket, eating a 50c fundraising cupcake. That's my red baby truck behind me.

Next I headed up to the UCSC campus, ostensibly to re-orient but in reality to check out the bookstore. I got a little lost (one bunch of dorm buildings amongst the redwoods is much like another) but found the heart of campus in the end. I wanted some stationary but the selection didn't seem to be as good as last year. Somehow I ended up with a long-sleeved T-shirt instead. How did that happen?! Am officially UCSC Posterchild with the amount of kit I now possess. Was v. tempted by UCSC trackie-dacks but luckily for my Visa card they only make them for long-legged folks.

It was a very warm day, so I decided I should take the groceries home to the fridge. I did some washing and spent the rest of the day working. Sorry, not too exciting. But I do have to say that FaceTime is the Best Invention In The Land. I can talk face to face with Sean and see my doggies without it costing a cent!

At 8:30pm I headed into town and had a divine salad at Asana Tea House (best and healthiest food in town) and now I'm calling it a night. Tomorrow will be more work and some cooking, interspered with checking out the beach :-) 

Here I am in my new clobber, and here's a shot of the main room of my little cottage, taken from the front door. Think I'll have to bust out the Nikon tomorrow and get some decent photos.

 

Good night, everyone! It's late and I'm off to bed.

Some you win!

I'm not a particularly tinny type. I don't score freebies, I sign up for stuff right before a 50% off deal is announced, and I missed the first home buyers' bonus by a matter of months. Sean is extremely tinny. So is my sister, who successfully booked Business Class seats for her and Dave 3 months out from their date of departure to Europe. When I was delayed in London before our wedding, I was told that First and Business seats are the first to sell on long haul sectors, and so I couldn't score an upgrade and ended up back near the rear toilets and practising my bridal waltz in the crew area.

But today, or yesterday, or, whenever (time zone limbo) was my lucky day!

It didn't start out that way. I boarded the plane only to find my assigned seat to be smack in the middle of a three-way child sandwich. There was a baby behind me, a little kid in the window of my row, and two under threes across the aisle. It was going to be a loooong 14 hours. Just as the baby was giving it some major lung and I was resolving to stay patient and view the experience as a huge tolerance test (and hoping that the parents had plenty of baby paracetamol on hand, or failing that, vodkas - all round), I put on my headphones and switched on the inflight entertainment system.

Only, it didn't work.

I should explain that I am somewhat of a Bermuda Triangle where inflight electronics are concerned - they seem to break down around me. The exact same thing happened on my flight over here last year. Back then, they moved me to another seat in Economy. But apparently this time I buttered up the right guy. After two attempted reboots, the handset was worse than ever, flashing randomly and acting like I had a satellite phone call incoming ("It's your mother" the FA joked. "Mum, I TOLD you I was fine!" I replied). 

The FA started looking around for another available seat. "Business or First is fine if that's all you have", I quipped drily as he passed me. He indicated that he had in fact just checked Business and First, but, surprise surprise, all the seats were taken.

But then!

He returned, grinning. "Are you ready? Follow me!"

I grabbed my stuff and trotted behind him as instructed, only to find myself moving past every Economy seat.....and the Premium Economy seats.......only to walk smack into one of those Business Class capsule seats. Yes, those ones that FULLY RECLINE TO HORIZONTAL.

I pulled my jaw off the floor, gave the FA one incredulous-come-grateful look, and dived in there pronto, before they changed their minds!!!!!! I spent the next two hours with a goofy winner's grin plastered all over my dial.

(I was almost scared to admit that I somehow extended my Bermuda Triangle powers to render the entertainment system in my new seat also useless [!], but when I did they simply moved me one capsule back. And then the remote in the second new seat got jammed. But at least the system worked).

Far out.

It's true what they say - once you've been in the pointy end, you can't go back to cattle class. I had more leg room than I knew what to do with - not that my legs were even on the floor: thank you, recliner system. There was space under the capsule in front for all my hand luggage. I had a personal magazine/newspaper rack, a personal reading light, noise-cancelling headphones, a shelf for my shoes, classy food with real cutlery and linen, a bookshelf for the inflight magazines, and a set of seat controls that occupied me for the next two hours as I nutted out what button performed what miracle - including within-seat massage. I started giggling hysterically when I found that one. It was all too much.



For this little arthritic bean, who usually arrives after long haul flights feeling crippled, the ergonometrics were APPRECIATED. As were the two sleeps I had in a totally horizontal position, as snug as a bug in my capsule. I could even roll over.

I watched "Another Year", "No Strings Attached" and "The Kings' Speech" as well as a documentary about forest-dwelling elephants. I read my book with my own little within-seat book light.

It was the only time I wished a long haul flight was actually longer.

I really felt sorry for all the bloodshot-eyed, muscle-stiff, Economy passengers as they filed past me once we landed to a beautiful morning in San Francisco. I tried not to look too smug and refreshed as I folded my extra-thick blanket and extra-soft pillow (but I kind of lowered myself by taking iPhone photos of the seat).

It might not happen again in a hurry, but man, I'm grateful it did - not least because I then proceeded to have to negotiate for over half an hour with the rental car people. Suffice to say, I emerged triumphant with what can best be described as a miniature truck (that was their idea of an upgrade from a 2-door compact), and enjoyed a most pleasant drive down to Santa Cruz, singing along to the radio to ensure I stayed awake. I found my little cottage with no problem, thank you Mister GPS, but couldn't nut out the network key for the promised WIFI, so I drove into town and am currently installed in my favourite cafe - the Asana Tea House just off Pacific Ave, where I've had a yummy split pea soup, vegetable Vietnamese rolls, an apricot herbal tea and the biggest organic strawberries I've ever seen: 

I'm tired but I'm nowhere near the complete steamrolling a stint in Economy avec babies would have dealt me.

Bring it on!!

P.S. I just had my first glimpse of royal wedding photos. Nice, but relatively understated, I thought.

Up, up and away!!

I keep wanting to sing the old "TAA" jingle whenever I say "Up, up and away". What can I say? I am a child of the eighties.

WARNING: Unashamedly monarchist and girly sentiments expressed within

It’s Royal Wedding Day!

Oh, and international departure day. Yep.

Call me naïve and old fashioned, but I just love a Royal Wedding, so I’m almost as excited for Kate and William as I am for me jetting off.

I remember being 6 years old when Charles and Diana married. The year 1 class had their own mock Royal Wedding which us year 2’s attended as “guests”. We made lolly bonbons as gifts. But my favourite Royal Wedding was Sarah and Andrew in 1986. I remember SAFM playing Starship’s “Sarah” on the morning of the big day (so ‘80’s) and staying up late to watch the whole event. I wasn’t a girly girl, but for years afterwards, I wanted Sarah’s dress, and her hair. The best bit was how she arrived with flowers holding her veil and emerged after signing the register wearing a beautiful tiara. And let’s face it, Andrew was SO much better looking than Charles! Unfortunately for Sarah, the wedding day was probably the high point of her subsequent not-so-illustrious career….but it was a beautiful wedding.

As for William and Kate, the signs are good that this may be a marriage with some substance beyond the fairytale. While I believe the Royals are on another planet (Wills, it’s not good form to land a helicopter in your girlfriend’s back yard), and I remember William being a right royal brat as a tacker, it appears that he and Kate and their cohort are a little more grounded and in touch with reality. They appeal to me as a couple and I like how they’ve kept their relationship low key.

Enough justification. I’m proudly and unashamedly jumping-out-of-my-socks excited to see the Abbey, the service, the crowds, the joy of the people, the Royal Family (including Posh and Becks)…….and Kate (I hope she wears her hair down). God Save the Queen.

Only snag is, I’ll be halfway over the Pacific as the wedding commences. Sean better have programmed the set top box. Had I been at home, I would have unabashedly thrown a kitschy street-party style Britannia shindig and soaked up every gratuitous detail of the TV coverage (by the way, can someone grab me the souvenir edition of “Woman’s Weekly”?!).

.

Yep, I’m sky high between Adelaide and Sydney as I type. It’s a gorgeous morning. I should know, I’ve been up since 5am – random nightmare where the San Francisco airport train was now accessed via a steep, slippery-dip style ramp that I couldn’t climb. Check in went without a hitch (just for Sean, my bag was 28.4kg with about 8kg of stuff to be offloaded in the U.S.), and after a brief respite in the Qantas Club (where I committed my usual petty larceny by filching a handful of Nestle’s Hot Chocolate powder – I love that stuff), I was up, up and away. The cabin crew asked where I was off to and when I told them, they said “So that’s why you’re smiling” (to which I replied “Check in with me in 20 hours’time”).

Open up that Golden Gate, California here I come. And congratulations, Wills and Kate.

Who says you can't go home?

I’ve just had the loveliest week in Adelaide. I was sad to leave Sean, my boys (that’s Pickwick and Hercules) and my friends, but it’s always special to catch up with everyone “back home”. Well, almost everyone – sorry Kerin L The weather was glorious for the whole week, and it was a great farewell to Australia.

From my sister’s hilarious R-rated Nigella Lawson impersonations over her incredible roast pork (I’d post a pic but she’d likely kill me), to relaxing with Dave on the verandah and taking in the sea view, to the Easter egg hunt in my parents’ backyard, to seeing the progress on my parents’ new house (check it out!), to a lovely long lunch with Nichole and Andrew, to seeing beautiful Lilah and taking Jemima ice skating for the first time, to spontaneously taking Mum to see “My Afternoons With Margueritte” Wednesday evening, to a slap-up meal at Balhannah with Mum and Dad last night, it was a week filled with fun and wonderful times.

Oh, and this is random, but it’s stuck with me all week. I saw this amazing documentary on ABC showing a tribe of people who make and live in tree houses. They build the houses right in the top of the tallest trees they can find – the height of the tree is a symbol of status. Once the house is built (and it’s a proper house with a level floor and a roof), the whole tribe climbs up, including babies, pets and miscellaneous animals, like piglets. It’s somehow reassuring to think that there are still people living as one with nature – but I did wonder how the tree house people went to the toilet. Darren suggested the “long drop” option. They’d have to look out below.

I think the most special and uplifting memories were those involving the children. Seeing all six Morgan and Loechel kids generously sharing their eggs equally after an Easter Monday egg hunt. Doing cartwheels and headstands together on the lawn, and despairing that I couldn’t do them as well as John or Henry. Having a lovely long chat with Narridy, Bronnie, Tiana and Amelia. Hearing Bronnie and Amelia discussing where in the world they wanted to travel when they were older. Spending priceless moments with Lilah. Hearing Jemima singing in the back seat of the car after an afternoon of ice skating, and watching Madeline doing tricks on the swing set. Warm cuddles with beautiful children who mean the world to me.

I have to make special mention of 4-year-old Jemima. She had been wanting to try ice skating for a long time, but learning to skate is not as easy as it looks. We went to the rink together yesterday, laced her up, got on the ice, all excited…..and I promptly fell over in rented hockey boots, and – horror of horrors - pulled the poor little mite down with me. In my own skates, I’m as safe as in my sneakers, but the hockey style rentals were beyond me. After a big cuddle and rest, and, for me, a switch to figure-style skates (which I’d asked for in the first place but was initially given a too-big pair), Jemima bravely returned to the ice and managed to do two whole laps on her own, holding the barrier and with my arms around her. What a trouper. And luggage limits be damned, next time I’m bringing my own skates.

Jemima’s little sister Lilah is very ill and her whole family are being incredibly strong and are a total inspiration. That's Lilah with her Mum, Andrea, and I at the top of the page. The family's “Live Life for Lilah” initiative, where they encourage friends and supporters of Lilah to live in the moment and make each day special, is a beautiful concept. Lilah has her own Facebook page, “Lilah Sophie”, and it means the world to Andrea and Nic to know that people are aware of Lilah’s life and of her gift of appreciation of every moment.

Thank you Nic and Andrea for the amazingly generous loan of your car, and for making time to spend with me at such a difficult time. Thank you Nichole and Andrew for giving up some of your special weekend together to see me, and for the beautiful flowers. And thank you Mia, Hugh, Henry, Amelia, Sharon, Darren, Narridy, Bronwyn, John and Tiana for coming up to Nairne to celebrate Easter Monday together. And thank you to the Loechels for the yummy Haighs Easter eggs.

Speaking of eggs, look what I found yesterday:

We suspected the odd one or two may pop up. And Mum found another next to the backyard broom. Sharon, Mia and I RULE when it when it comes to Easter egg hiding. At one point, we looked at each other incredulously, amazed that we were no longer the kids and were hiding eggs for THEIR children – has it really been (gulp) 20 years since high school?!? Still, I think we had more fun hiding the eggs than the kids had finding them.

Parting is such sweet sorrow....

So I left the sunny shores of Hobart for even sunnier Adelaide. The beautiful Hobart morning made it hard to leave. So did Pickwick’s decision to spend the night vomiting all over the laundry floor. I was up at 5:45pm and spent until 6:30pm cleaning up and mopping. I am a glamourous jet-setter. Poor little man, he always picks up on me going away. Luckily he perked up later in the day when Sean’s Dad (big favourite) arrived and Pickwick slavishly grovelled all over him. Thanks, Dad!

I think one of the nicest things about travel is how it makes you appreciate home. Taking Pickwick and Hercules for their last few walks before I left Hobart, I took the time to look around me and view my neighbourhood in the sharp relief that only comes with the imminence of departure. The cool, crisp air, the joy on my dogs’ faces and the beauty of Mount Wellington were all savoured.

Thursday before Easter was my last day at work. It was the usual craziness. Logistically I was (shock) actually organised, despite the scanner deciding to make a mockery of my brilliant idea to electronically store recipes as pdfs to take (a month is a LONG time to be throwing together stir fries and eating in restaurants – okay, maybe not the latter). Yes, I had almost finished scanning truckloads of recipes and was just starting to feel pretty darn smug, when the scanner decided it would wipe them. Yay! But no, work went down to the wire and I have, sigh, a bunch of stuff to finish off in Adelaide.

But I didn’t get on this blog to complain, no siree. In fact, that same Thursday night I had a wonderful farewell meal with the Hobart posse. Twelve of us made merry over curries at Annapurna, and I got Easter off to a flying start with a chocolate bilby at each place and Easter eggs all over the table. It was a night of fun, food and laughter – the best kind of night with friends. Thanks guys!

Then on Good Friday Sean and I went to Royal Thai (we were trying to wring as much value out of the Entertainment Book before it expired!) and had a lovely, relaxed meal together, followed by a State Cinema sojourn to see “Potiche”. I love French films; the language is so beautiful and the French take on life (or film making) is a refreshing change from the blockbuster genre. Linda and Bryan will be shocked to hear that we were so early that we even got to relax over the newspaper and a slice of lemon tart prior to the film. Most civilised!

As for the packing, well, as predicted, I ripped it up on Saturday. Once everything was in the bag, I suspected I’d overdone it a tad, so I got an expert opinion (Sean) and proceeded to jettison about half of it. “Think of all the space you have for shopping now!” Sean exclaimed. That, folks, is the best kind of husband to have!!

Fortunately there was more to life than packing. I cooked up a storm, despite Sean’s protests that he was more than capable of feeding himself in my absence. I just like to feel that there’s a little of me still at home with him after I’m gone, even if it’s frozen in Tupperware and tastes like tuna mornay and rogan josh. We then had fun exchanging Easter eggs and gifts and proceeded to eat Humpty Dumpty and his chocolate beanies in front of “South Park” episodes for the rest of the evening. Go us.

Mfffnuurgggrhhh........and Happy Easter

Hear that sound? That, my friends, is the sound of my brain at 4:30am, trying to process in a state of semi-consciousness the sheer amount of strudel that still needs to be dealt with before adiosing the country.

Trying to process things semi-catatonically is never a good idea. I should have realised this once and for all back in 1998, when I awakened at 3am CONVINCED of the perfect idea that would make my PhD thesis a Nobel Prize winner. Unable to get back to sleep, I grabbed pencil and paper, covered approximately 5 pages with my groundbreaking musings, and, content, went back to sleep.

In the morning, I was confronted with 5 pages of gibberish, and a loss of 2 hours of REM sleep.

Back to 2011, and this morning a bad flare up of arthritis (granny that I am at 36) combined with too much work before bed and my mind was whirring, but more like Allie Brosh's Simple Dog from "Hyperbole and a Half" than Einstein:



http://hyperboleandahalf.blogspot.com/2010/11/dogs-dont-understand-basic-concepts.html (thanks, Allie. You rule).

Among the miscellaneous, helicopter-and-random-coloured-shapes style thoughts were
- packing
- work
- scanning recipes to take (don't ask)
- work
- being a domestic goddess and cleaning the house and cooking frozen meals like a champion before I left (despite Sean's insistence that this was entirely unnecessary)
- work
- the fact that I was going to feel like rubbish for the rest of the day by staying awake and having helicopter-and-coloured-shapes thoughts

So I thought, okay, what's the best move given that
a) I'm thinking helicopters and random coloured shapes, rather than anything that resembles logic, and
b) There's no way in heck I'm getting back to sleep?

Answer: get up.

So, my brainiac idea regarding packing (one of the few of the abovementioned problems with which my neural system could realistically cope at 6am) was to fire up the Mac and check out my photo albums from past trips to similar climes, to get an idea of what would be good to put in the suitcase. Of course, the Mac doesn't fire up (because it's me, not Sean, who wants to turn it on).

Mac: I'm easy to start! Just press "return"! Oh, and if that doesn't work, just press my on/off button on the back! I'm shiny! I'm user friendly!
Nat: Sure, I can handle that! *return*
Mac: *nothing*
##Nat: *button on back*
Mac: *defiant vibration, no on-switching*
Nat: *return*
Mac: You're not the I.T. man. HAHAHAHAHA! I REFUSE to behave for YOU!!!
     *repeat from ##*
Nat: @#*&#!$!!

(if Sean were awake, the next installment would be Sean calmly pushing button and Mac submissively purring into instant life)

So, okay, there's still a zillion other practical things I could do at this point (like, well, actually start packing), but lulled by that false sense of security one obtains at 6:47am when you're all "hahahahhaa, it's still robo early and I can fool myself that the rest of the world is asleep", and with visions of my blog going viral and changing the world in manner of Laughing Baby or similar, I'm all "hehehehe, what the hell, let's blog".

(Speaking of viral internet hits, the U.K. ad for T mobile featuring a spoof of the upcoming Royal Wedding has had me turning my frown upside down. Check it out at http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Kav0FEhtLug. The fact that the Royal Wedding is on the same day as I fly out is a very unfortunate piece of bad timing on my part. I was all about having an awesome U.K. style spoof street party and then enjoying every bit of the wedding as a raving royalist. But I digress. Again.)

As for the packing thing, well, you'd think that after, what, 12 trips overseas (not that I'm counting or anything), I'd be the MASTER at packing. Not so. I have recurring dreams of evacuating my house during a bushfire and trying to fit as much rubbish as possible in my car boot (I was scarred by being an 8 year old Adelaidean during Ash Wednesday in 1983). Packing evokes similar fears of being at the airport/at destination and thinking "Damn! I should have packed X". Never mind the fact that the U.S.A. is only the epicentre of the shopping universe.

Actually, I'm not so bad anymore, but I do wonder why I can't do the smug "capsule wardrobe" magazine article thing. Schyeah, right. Especially when you're traversing multiple climates and activities. I can just see it now. Little corporate work outfit centered around no-crease dress, ideal for giving scientific presentation to high-flying lab group, also doubles perfectly for clambering volcanoes and Mayan ruins. Not.

Never mind. The point is, I know from past experience that it WILL all get done, somehow, and despite aforementioned incompetency, I will calmly pack the necessary clothes in half an hour (and even remember my underwear), and if I'm really lucky, the crazed, oops, I mean invigorating, stress and sleep deprivation may even lead to some bonus weight loss.

Speaking of which, I hope you all have a wonderfully Happy Easter and throw caution to the wind by getting amongst some serious chocolate consumption. Given that last Easter I was already in the U.S. bemoaning the lack of public holidays for same in California, and tipping the hotel maid with Cadbury Creme Eggs, partially to save myself scoffing them in a fit of self-pity, I'm already on top of the game.

Here's a lovely Easter-themed pic of some lop-eared rabbits that I stumbled across while heading to the outdoor facilities at a cafe recently. Random, but very, very cute.

And now, if you'll excuse me, it's 7am and I have some panicking (and packing) to do.

Natalie x

It was the best of times, it was the worst of times....

Okay, so I finally made it to the blogosphere. That was easier than I thought. Yay!

So what finally drove me here? Something about a 2 month work-holiday overseas adventure!

That's the "best of times" part. The "worst" part? All the wretched work that has to be done before blast-off!! No matter how hard I try, I've never yet had a trip where I haven't been working like a slave right up until my flight is called. And then on the plane until the laptop battery runs out.......which is a killer if the person in front decides they want to recline. But I digress.

Where are we going? I hear you cry. Well, prepare to drool, folks.

Trip is thus:

April 24: Head to Adelaide for much Easter love with hometown friends and fam.

April 29: Fly to San Franscisco, grab car and try not to kill jetlagged self driving south to the gorgeous Santa Cruz. Hole up at Pleasure Point Beach Cottage (avec hot tub, free bicycles, and surfing lessons on tap) and settle in for a month's awesome work on fleet dynamics modelling with esteemed colleague, Prof. Marc. Mangel of the University of California, Santa Cruz.

May 21: Sean arrives! Yay!

May 27: Head to San Francisco for 3 nights of fun in one of my favourite cities

May 30: Fly down to L.A. and head to Disneyland for 4 nights to let our inner children loose.

June 3: South of the border to Cancun, Mexico. 4 nights of margaritas, Caribbean beaches and swimming with whale sharks

June 7: 7 days of car rental to fang around and check out more Mayan ruins than you can poke a stick at, staying at Valladolid, Merida, Pelanque and Calakmul. Hope the GPS is in good working order!

June 12: 5 nights at Playa del Carmen, soaking up the Caribbean. Diving, markets and serious relaxation are on the agenda.

June 17: Head down to Ecuador for a couple of nights in Quito.

June 19: Fly to the Galapagos for 8 days of island hopping, diving, mountain biking and interacting with sealions, blue footed boobies, marine igunas, Darwin's finches and Lonesome George the tortoise.

June 26: A couple more days in Quito to make sure we've consumed enough guinea pigs.

June 29: Fly home.

July 4: Nat heads back to S.A. to hopefully join a week-long Great White Shark research cruise, tagging and cage diving with these amazing beasts.

So there you have it. Yes, I'm pretty darn excited. Look, here I am having a kiss from Hercules. (Man. I look damn tired. Most unattractive. That's what working 8 weekends straight will do to you).

Hercie and Pickwick are going to have a holiday with Auntie Kat and Uncle Dave. Thanks, Kat and Dave (big hugs). We'd love to take our boys with us, especially as my beach cottage in Santa Cruz is dog-friendly, but that quarantine thing is a bummer. So Pickwick and Herc will be having fun with Panda Bear and Nonnie and new cousin Sebastian.

For the humans, buckle up and prepare for a wild ride as we explore California and Latin America!!!

Thanks for reading, it'll be a blast sharing our adventures with you.

Natalie xx