Travel thread

[dad]

we’ve started plotting a return to Paris in 2025...maybe elsewhere in France.

we're also looking to go to Portugal, Lisbon or Porto. Anyone else been to either city and has a preference?

[epilogue]

we’ve started plotting a return to Paris in 2025...maybe elsewhere in France.

we're also looking to go to Portugal, Lisbon or Porto. Anyone else been to either city and has a preference?

Lisbon and Porto are both outstanding cities with their own charms. I honestly love them both so much. I'd say, gun to head, if you made me pick one I'd go Porto.

[spike]

Also where the Port-O-John was invented. They have an excellent museum.

[tragabigzanda]

There is a wolf in me . . . fangs pointed for tearing gashes . . . a red tongue for raw meat . . . and the hot lapping of blood—I keep this wolf because the wilderness gave it to me and the wilderness will not let it go.

There is a fox in me . . . a silver-gray fox . . . I sniff and guess . . . I pick things out of the wind and air . . . I nose in the dark night and take sleepers and eat them and hide the feathers . . . I circle and loop and double-cross.

There is a hog in me . . . a snout and a belly . . . a machinery for eating and grunting . . . a machinery for sleeping satisfied in the sun—I got this too from the wilderness and the wilderness will not let it go.

There is a fish in me . . . I know I came from salt-blue water-gates . . . I scurried with shoals of herring . . . I blew waterspouts with porpoises . . . before land was . . . before the water went down . . . before Noah . . . before the first chapter of Genesis.

There is a baboon in me . . . clambering-clawed . . . dog-faced . . . yawping a galoot's hunger . . . hairy under the armpits . . . here are the hawk-eyed hankering men . . . here are the blonde and blue-eyed women . . . here they hide curled asleep waiting . . . ready to snarl and kill . . . ready to sing and give milk . . . waiting—I keep the baboon because the wilderness says so.

There is an eagle in me and a mockingbird . . . and the eagle flies among the Rocky Mountains of my dreams and fights among the Sierra crags of what I want . . . and the mockingbird warbles in the early forenoon before the dew is gone, warbles in the underbrush of my Chattanoogas of hope, gushes over the blue Ozark foothills of my wishes—And I got the eagle and the mockingbird from the wilderness.

O, I got a zoo, I got a menagerie, inside my ribs, under my bony head, under my red-valve heart—and I got something else: it is a man-child heart, a woman-child heart: it is a father and mother and lover: it came from God-Knows-Where: it is going to God-Knows-Where—For I am the keeper of the zoo: I say yes and no: I sing and kill and work: I am a pal of the world: I came from the wilderness.

[dad]

Also where the Port-O-John was invented. They have an excellent museum.

John, this is serious.

[dad]

we’ve started plotting a return to Paris in 2025...maybe elsewhere in France.

we're also looking to go to Portugal, Lisbon or Porto. Anyone else been to either city and has a preference?

Lisbon and Porto are both outstanding cities with their own charms. I honestly love them both so much. I'd say, gun to head, if you made me pick one I'd go Porto.

I wouldn’t put a gun to your head, but okay.

[dad]

we’ve started plotting a return to Paris in 2025...maybe elsewhere in France.

we're also looking to go to Portugal, Lisbon or Porto. Anyone else been to either city and has a preference?

You must go to Annecy

How much time should we spend there? We’re looking to visit the two countries in about ten days.

[spike]

we’ve started plotting a return to Paris in 2025...maybe elsewhere in France.

we're also looking to go to Portugal, Lisbon or Porto. Anyone else been to either city and has a preference?

You must go to Annecy

Alex would’ve loved this post.

[96583UP]

you must do my same vacation

[tragabigzanda]

There is a wolf in me . . . fangs pointed for tearing gashes . . . a red tongue for raw meat . . . and the hot lapping of blood—I keep this wolf because the wilderness gave it to me and the wilderness will not let it go.

There is a fox in me . . . a silver-gray fox . . . I sniff and guess . . . I pick things out of the wind and air . . . I nose in the dark night and take sleepers and eat them and hide the feathers . . . I circle and loop and double-cross.

There is a hog in me . . . a snout and a belly . . . a machinery for eating and grunting . . . a machinery for sleeping satisfied in the sun—I got this too from the wilderness and the wilderness will not let it go.

There is a fish in me . . . I know I came from salt-blue water-gates . . . I scurried with shoals of herring . . . I blew waterspouts with porpoises . . . before land was . . . before the water went down . . . before Noah . . . before the first chapter of Genesis.

There is a baboon in me . . . clambering-clawed . . . dog-faced . . . yawping a galoot's hunger . . . hairy under the armpits . . . here are the hawk-eyed hankering men . . . here are the blonde and blue-eyed women . . . here they hide curled asleep waiting . . . ready to snarl and kill . . . ready to sing and give milk . . . waiting—I keep the baboon because the wilderness says so.

There is an eagle in me and a mockingbird . . . and the eagle flies among the Rocky Mountains of my dreams and fights among the Sierra crags of what I want . . . and the mockingbird warbles in the early forenoon before the dew is gone, warbles in the underbrush of my Chattanoogas of hope, gushes over the blue Ozark foothills of my wishes—And I got the eagle and the mockingbird from the wilderness.

O, I got a zoo, I got a menagerie, inside my ribs, under my bony head, under my red-valve heart—and I got something else: it is a man-child heart, a woman-child heart: it is a father and mother and lover: it came from God-Knows-Where: it is going to God-Knows-Where—For I am the keeper of the zoo: I say yes and no: I sing and kill and work: I am a pal of the world: I came from the wilderness.

[96583UP]

so i can read 1,000 different ways for people to say ‘do my same vacation’

[doug rr]

I've never been to Cleveland but want to go just for the sandwiches

[96583UP]

eat some food, prepared by the street
who knows you might even meet this guy

[lennytheweedwhacker]

I don't really care.

[The Argonaut]

If the timing works out between starting a new job (optimistically assuming I get a final offer) and being able to give sufficient notice at the current job, I'm going to try to go to Philadelphia for a week. It's the only town in the general area I can seem to find a decent place to stay for a reasonable price. I will be bummed if this doesn't work out. Philadelphia in July, what could be better, right?

[lennytheweedwhacker]

I've never been to Cleveland but want to go just for the sandwiches

Let's hit up an Indians game

[spike]

80% chance of t-storms on Tuesday, when we fly to San Fran then onto Melbourne. Getting nervous as every storm seems to ground planes these days.

[tragabigzanda]

There is a wolf in me . . . fangs pointed for tearing gashes . . . a red tongue for raw meat . . . and the hot lapping of blood—I keep this wolf because the wilderness gave it to me and the wilderness will not let it go.

There is a fox in me . . . a silver-gray fox . . . I sniff and guess . . . I pick things out of the wind and air . . . I nose in the dark night and take sleepers and eat them and hide the feathers . . . I circle and loop and double-cross.

There is a hog in me . . . a snout and a belly . . . a machinery for eating and grunting . . . a machinery for sleeping satisfied in the sun—I got this too from the wilderness and the wilderness will not let it go.

There is a fish in me . . . I know I came from salt-blue water-gates . . . I scurried with shoals of herring . . . I blew waterspouts with porpoises . . . before land was . . . before the water went down . . . before Noah . . . before the first chapter of Genesis.

There is a baboon in me . . . clambering-clawed . . . dog-faced . . . yawping a galoot's hunger . . . hairy under the armpits . . . here are the hawk-eyed hankering men . . . here are the blonde and blue-eyed women . . . here they hide curled asleep waiting . . . ready to snarl and kill . . . ready to sing and give milk . . . waiting—I keep the baboon because the wilderness says so.

There is an eagle in me and a mockingbird . . . and the eagle flies among the Rocky Mountains of my dreams and fights among the Sierra crags of what I want . . . and the mockingbird warbles in the early forenoon before the dew is gone, warbles in the underbrush of my Chattanoogas of hope, gushes over the blue Ozark foothills of my wishes—And I got the eagle and the mockingbird from the wilderness.

O, I got a zoo, I got a menagerie, inside my ribs, under my bony head, under my red-valve heart—and I got something else: it is a man-child heart, a woman-child heart: it is a father and mother and lover: it came from God-Knows-Where: it is going to God-Knows-Where—For I am the keeper of the zoo: I say yes and no: I sing and kill and work: I am a pal of the world: I came from the wilderness.

[96583UP]

good luck man

[spike]

Good luck spike.
Do you guys move straight into your new place or is there some sort of transitional housing?

Transitional, furnished apartment since most of our stuff doesn’t show up for like 3-4 months. Right down in the city, so should be cool for awhile. Will start looking for something a bit further out right away. Gonna hunker down at in-laws for the first few nights so we can get some stuff done, like car, phones, etc while the kid’s looked after.