Adios Paradise

Back in Auckland, I am devastated at the thought of leaving what has to be the most beautiful country I have ever visited. New Zealand is truly captivating, with the most divine blue lakes, best tramping trails, vast and ever-changing landscapes, cascading waterfalls, whose early-morning dew sets the stage for gorgeous, sun-kissed rainbows, habitats to exotic, vibrantly-colored birds, raging rivers that flow from glaciers on top of the country's highest mountain peaks, fiords that home thousands of seals, penguins and dolphins, and beaches that make you weak in the knees. To name a few...

Last I wrote I had not completed my much-awaited sky dive, due to the weather in Taupo. But now I can happily write: SKY DIVING IS AWESOME. While most sky dives take you straight up to jump, this company offered, for the same price, a twenty-minute scenic flight over the Franz Josef glacier, the snow-capped mountains and a view of the foothills that creep out to the blue sea. After twenty minutes in awe, CJ, my tandem instructor, suddenly opened the door, pushing my legs out of the plane, not giving me a second to think about the "what ifs". Head back, I smiled for the camera and suddenly went spiraling down, down, down, thinking the free fall would never end, wind whipping my face, high on life yet again. For nearly 45 seconds I fell, arms out like a bird, gazing down at the earth below. BEST. FEELING. EVER. Then (thanks for your prayers!) the chute opened and I sat up in my harness, taking in the scenery below me, floating carelessly down to the green pasture. Once back on stable ground, our bus driver Drew greeted me with open arms, laughing that of all the people he has watched sky dive over the years, he could never hear one scream while exiting the plane quite as clearly as he could hear me. Go figure. Worth every single penny and every single second. I can't wait for my next jump.

Later that night, as we sat around a campfire where I taught my international group of friends the single best American tradition, S'Mores, I watched the moon rise over the same mountains I had just seen from the air, marveling at the giant orb's orange and eerie glow as it ascended into the twinkling, starry sky. The smell of salt water and the warm breeze of the hot summer day lulled me to sleep in my tent and I found myself thinking that it was perhaps one of my best days ever.

Waking up content with life, we headed on to the Bushman's Camp, learning about the venison industry from Possum Pete, a man whose humor enabled him to make a short documentary film entitled, "When Bambi was a Terrorist". I was fascinated at the industry that once had men jumping out of helicopters to man-handle "Bambi" into a net and found myself thinking yet again, "Dorothy, you're not in Kansas anymore". A scrumptious venison pie later, we were back on the road and headed to Punakaiki, where a long hike and a lovely country pub awaited us.

Our final stop was in Abel Tasman, the smallest national park in New Zealand, yet one of the most beautiful. It reminded me a lot of the Whitsunday Islands in Australia with its clear blue waters. A small group of us chose to do a 25 kilometer walk, where we stumbled upon Cleopatra's Pools, with a natural water slide and a sparkling-water beach for our lunch. After lunch, we ran down the hill to Anchorage, sprinting into the ocean, no other swimmers around, and splashing about as we gazed up at the stunning and hilly landscape.

A sad goodbye the following day, I left the crew in Nelson, where I spent a day relaxing in lush green vineyards on a wine and micro-brewery tour with my dear friend Iain. At a summer festival that night, we watched a carnival in the city square and ate good food, reminiscing about our fantastic trip.

While that pretty much sums up the end of the trip, I feel there are really no words to describe the experience I have had here. Rather than checking this country off my list, I have only added more things to do the next time I am here. I am sure I will return to this beautiful place. Until then, I will live for the memory.

What It Feels Like to Be Alive

The parachute did not open....because I did not sky dive. YET. Weather prevented us from doing so in Taupo, but it is definitely on the agenda for Franz Josef, where I intend to jump over a glacier!!!!

I have done so much else in the past few weeks that I find it nearly impossible to put it all down in words. Other than biking all over New Zealand, making friends from all parts of the world and sleeping in bush camps that overlook lakes that are so beautiful they should be illegal, I have done hundreds more crazy and exhilarating activities.

Crossing over to the South Island, we biked to a hilltop lodge where we woke up the next morning to go for a special sunrise white-water rafting tour. Having been told that sitting in the front of the boat is by far the scariest, when Chunk, our guide for the day, asked if there were volunteers for the job, I shot my hand up and screamed, "me!" Sitting in the front, I paddled away, braving three stage five rapids and jumping off a cliff into the raging river below. After our ride, we hopped on the bus and drove to our campsite for the night, where we set up our dinner of fresh salmon on top of a cliff overlooking the ocean. There, we spotted two wild hectare dolphins and decided on a whim to strip our clothes off, racing down to the freezing waters and jumping in with the dolphins, riding the waves with them as they literally whizzed beneath our feet, happily playing with their newfound gang of friends. When we left later that evening to watch wild penguins return home from their day at sea to feed their chicks, I did not think it could get any better. But watching 118 penguins waddle out of the water and fluff their feathers to cool off left me in complete awe yet again.

Another night in an amazing bush camp overlooking the most pristine, blue lake I have ever seen and a hike up the amazing Mt. Cook to a glacier lake with floating icebergs followed the next day. Amazed at the sights, we stopped in town to stock up for our three-day trek. Complete with packs, sleeping bags and food, we set off on the Routeburn track, hiking through enchanted forests, past stunning waterfalls and up to our first hut, nestled into a mountain valley and beside a cool, blue lake. The second day we ascended more to the summit, hanging off cliffs and reaching the top of Conical Hill with the single most stunning view I have ever seen. Getting to our hut around five that day, we relaxed on the stony river bed and marvelled at our 30-some kilometer achievement.

Coming off the Routeburn, I felt so alive. I was sure the high couldn't get any better....and then I decided to jump off a 134 meter gondola suspended over a canyon. Once determined to never bungy, I gave in to Queenstown's enticing label of "Adventure Capital of the World". And after I finally decided I HAD to do it, I figured, "why go for the little guy when you can go all the way?" So instead of opting for the standard height of 40 meters, I chose the third highest bungy in the world. We were taken out on a cable car to a teetering glass-bottom gondola and I looked down, thinking, "I am seriously mental". After sitting me down in a dentist chair and wiring me up, I made my way out onto a tiny, narrow platform and before I knew it, the man behind me was counting, "3...2...", and suddenly I spread my wings like Superman, diving, plummeting down to earth. The first few seconds were shock, horror, thinking "this is SO wrong!" but the wonderful thing about this extra high bungy is that it gives you the extra time to reach the point at which you are no longer scared, just giving in to the thrill, the feeling of euphoria and peace that suddenly comes over you as the adrenalin courses through your veins and you feel more alive than you ever felt before. In short, I LOVED IT. And now I am an addict. I want to go again...but for now, I'll have to stick to planning my sky dive. After all, it is NOT a cheap sport!

Today we head out of Queenstown after a rager last night! I am SO excited for the next adventure! For those of you who were praying for my chute to open, thanks...but I think it's a waste of breath really. Because I plan to do it again and again and again. Life is beautiful.

God's Country

I am living in a dreamworld...

I arrived in Auckland on the 11th of February, where I completed a 23 km walk from one coast of the isthmus to the other, walking past historical sites, up mountains overlooking the beautiful city and through villages where the indigenous Maori people first settled. At night, I met up with one of my friends from high school, Erin. After marrying in the States, her and her husband Eric returned to New Zealand, where they'd been living the last couple years, for their honeymoon. It just so happened that my two days in Auckland overlapped with their two days in the city. After not seeing eachother in nearly six years, it was pure coincidence that we were able to see eachother halfway across the world and it felt like we hadn't missed a beat, reminiscing and laughing over pizza and some great New Zealand beers.

Leaving Erin and Eric, I hopped on a bus back to my hostel, only to get lost, get off at the wrong stop, and wind up on a street that didn't necessarily look like a neighborhood I should be wandering alone in at night. Confused, wandering aimlessly, and clearly looking lost, two city officials dealing with a towed car asked if I needed help. When I explained to them where I needed to go, they said they were headed in that direction and they could give me a lift. Hesitant to get in a car with strangers, I verified that they were indeed public officials, and they not only got me back to the area I needed to be in, but dropped me directly in front of my hostel without any hesitation. This was the first of many lovely and kind "Kiwis" I have encountered here in New Zealand and I am convinced it accurately portrays the type of truly decent people that seem to live here.

From Auckland, I headed off on my adventure tour with Flying Kiwi, a company that provides a full camping tour, complete with mountain biking every day and several other adventure activities along the way. Day one and our guide announces it's time for our first ride, dropping us off at the bottom of a beautiful national forest, throwing us a helmet and vest and telling us "turn right, then right again, go down, then up, and into Paihia". A little nervous about these directions, the thirteen of us biking that day departed on the gravel road, finding ourselves in a lush tropical forest, winding up and down the mountainside, past country farm houses and finally arriving in the beautiful seaside town that is Paihia. 45 kilometers later, we were beat...but Drew challenged us to continue riding to the campsite. So butts sore, we headed off into the fields overlooking the stunning Bay of Islands. As the sun set, we wound through pastures of grazing cows, the colors pink and purple appearing on the horizon as we descended into a valley where a mother horse played with her foal and we could hear the nearby rush of the Haruru Falls. Pulling into the campsite, we were greeted with a large plot directly overlooking a beautiful river and our own private viewing area of the single most spectacular star cluster that I have ever seen in my life.

Tired from the ride, we cooked up some spaghetti and woke the next morning to find an endless array of possibilities before us. A couple of us hopped on the bikes, ascending cliffs and mountains, legs on fire, to reach the Bay of Islands, where Dom, Mariel and I rented kayaks and found our way into breathtaking mangrove forests.

It has been a few more days that we have spent on tour now and every second has been a complete treat. Yesterday, at the thermal beach, as I sat watching a small boy build a hole that would fill with water and then heat from the volcanic lava flowing underneath, I felt a tap on my shoulder, only to turn around and be greeted by my friend Kate who I had met while traveling in Australia. Small world!! Tom and Kate decided to join us at the same campsite, where I ventured away with them on an afternoon hike with some of the most captivating views they have witnessed in their month in New Zealand! We watched the sunset and I prepared myself for today's adventure, throwing myself down a hill in a giant plastic ball filled with water!!! This sport, called "zorbing", was invented here in New Zealand, and while it doesn't last very long, it is a totally surreal experience, as you dive into the ball and they push you down a large hill, spinning and splashing as you go.

Tomorrow, if weather allows, I have officially signed my name on the paper marked "Skydive: 15,000 Feet". I am terrified, but I know this is something I HAVE to do while I'm here, as it's one of the only places in the world where you are allowed to do a jump at this height, with a free fall of over one full minute!!!

I am convinced that when God sat down at his desk to dream up the world, the first place he envisioned was New Zealand. It is pure and total heaven with stunning landscapes, beautiful people and endless outdoor adventure. And while I can't wait to see what else God dreamt up in his office that day, let's first hope my parachute opens so I'm able to....

HELLO AGAIN, DEAR FRIENDS!!!

I’m SO SO SO sorry to neglect this blog; the issue is that I haven’t had any real adventures lately so I guess I just figured, “no one really wants to read about my boring life…do they?” Basically, the last few months have consisted of me returning to Sydney, looking desperately for a job to replenish the funds in the bank account, finding one at a darling little café in the bustling work district of North Sydney, working my butt off from 8-4 waitressing (yes, waitressing…you read that right), and planning my trips to New Zealand and Fiji! On weekends, I have spent much of my time doing the rest of the tourist things in Sydney…including trips to all the markets, big and small, more hikes with my cherished friends Tom and Denis (including snake spotting number three, a poisonous death adder!), a big night out on the town with my co-workers at the best Chinese restaurant and poshest bowling alley on the planet, dog-sitting in the most exclusive neighborhood in all of Sydney, home to Nicole Kidman and the richest of the rich, hikes alone through the Australian bush in the pouring rain, visits to the contemporary art museum, Sydney’s world famous New Year’s spectacular, and the recent Sydney Festival, complete with performances by the legendary Al Green and exotic dancers from all over the world!

It was exciting…and even the waitressing gig, which I promised I’d never do, was actually not as bad as I thought. Sure, I had to touch people’s dirty plates and deal with anxious customers or complaints about the food being too hot or too cold or too big or too small (for the most part, though, they were pretty good cuz our food is awesome!). But I put on that winning grin and did my best, earning me enough for a trip to New Zealand.

And tomorrow I set off to Auckland on a late flight, where I’ll explore the city, meet up with an old high school friend, and then later in the week begin on a 28-day-tour of New Zealand, both North and South Islands. As most of you know, I’m not your traditional “tour girl”, but this tour is everything I could ever want—the option to hike or cycle EVERY day, including a three-day trek on one of the world’s greatest routes, white-water rafting, zorbing, cruises through fiords, penguin-spotting, and camping under the stars every night. SO my type of tour. Not your “hop on the bus, let’s drive from point A to point B” kind of gig. This is the real deal, experiencing the natural wonders of New Zealand from an active point of view. And I’m thrilled. I could not be more excited to start this leg of my journey.

Due to limited internet access, I don’t know how often I’ll blog, but I’ll try as often as I can. Thanks to those who continue to check up on me, even if I’m not always good about writing. The adventure is beginning again, so thanks for coming along for the ride!

And to those of you in the States…I’m home March 1st!!! Come celebrate with me in Chicago!!! All my love.

Laidback...With My Mind on My Money and My Money on My Mind

Last time I was just leaving Noosa, headed for the beautiful Byron Bay. Hippies galore, Byron is one of the most laidback, chill towns I have ever visited. Although it has recently become quite touristy, it still has that vibe of long, flowy skirts, earth-friendly movements, peace, love, happiness, really rockin' acoustic music (Ben Harper has a second home here), herb shops and the ultimate surfer's paradise. Not impressed with my hostel, I called about moving to another, one that had been written up as a quiet guesthouse, much like the one I stayed at in Noosa. To my surprise, the woman on the other end informed me that although she had recently shut down the hostel due to the party mentality of so many backpackers, I sounded like a nice girl and it was my lucky day because she had a studio apartment available to rent. I was so excited, yet disappointed to hear that she wanted $350 per week. A lone traveller, I sadly declined the offer, telling Veronica that I could not afford anything over $150. To which she replied, "Done. I'll pick you up tomorrow at 11." The next day, in her red BMW convertible, Veronica pulled up to my hostel in a flash, driving me only two blocks further to a gorgeous stand-alone house that housed my beautiful studio apartment, only a few blocks from the beach. I cannot even describe to you what staying in a studio apartment is like after spending two months living in the bunk bed of a dormitory room with ten other people. This new "palace" as I called it was complete with a sprawling living area, a beautiful kitchen, my very own bathroom and even my own beautiful balcony that spanned the entire front of the house. I marvelled at my luck, thinking backpackers would kill to stay in a place like this at such an amazing price. I had hit the jackpot!

The next couple of days were spent exploring the gorgeous area with its purple jacarandas in full bloom, hiking up to the famous lighthouse, running through the national parks that joined one beautiful beach to the next, looking out to sea as I sipped wine at the famous Beach Hotel, and spending many evenings listening to some of the best live music I have ever heard.

Recommended by friends, I took a tour out to Nimbin, a hippie village that was founded as a result of the Aquarius Festival of 1973. Comparable only to Woodstock, the Aquarius Festival was held by university students who wanted to promote the idea of free love. The thousands who flocked to the area were enticed by its fertile lands and cheap real estate, deciding to establish roots and create their own little village of sorts. Present-day Nimbin is hard to describe--on one hand, it is a small yet progressive farm town, complete with its own power company that has been rewarded for its innovations in things such as push-pedal generators and solar-powered grills. On the other, it is a laidback hippie haven, with what it claims as the world's official Hemp Embassy. Only here can you find endless petitions for the legalization of marijuana, including posters with Barack Obama's personal endorsements, a psychedelic and colorful museum of the town and its history with easy-going townies smoking out of their giant bongs in back, and ladies in colorful frocks chasing after tourists trying to sell them magical cookies. What better way to describe it than the small town equivalent of Amsterdam?

After the tour of Nimbin, we drove back amongst beautifully green, lush rolling hills and endless fields of macadamia trees. Did you know that macadamia nuts are native to this region of Australia? Me neither. Nor did I think I really even liked macadamias...but damn, do they ever know how to use them to make some delicious pastries!

Back in Byron, I met up with some friends from up the coast. After deciding to leave for Sydney that Sunday, I suggested to Veronica that they move into the studio and she happily agreed. As a thank you, Tom and Kate, my friends from England, decided to hire a surf board and teach me how to surf! So we headed out onto one of the country's most famous little inlets to surf, Watego's Bay. Here, Tom instructed me how to paddle, how to move in the water and finally how to stand. Rather than practice on the beach like most amateurs, Tom insisted we get right in the water, where he waited for a good wave, holding the board steady for me, screaming, "Ok, NOW!! Paddle! Paddle!! Paddle!!!!" The first few times were, as they would say, a bloody failure. But about round four, I felt the water underneath me, steadied myself, and STOOD UP!!!!!!! This is unheard of for first-timers so I left the water, exhausted yet beaming with pride. A nice cold beer afterwards (my personal favorite here--the pale ale "Little Creatures") and I was ready to say goodbye to Byron Bay...not because I wanted to leave, but because the piggy bank was, and IS, very very empty.

So off to Sydney I went, not by bus...yet in the station wagon of a girl I had found online offering rides (don't worry, this is common here!). Was I perhaps slightly worried when she picked me up from Byron in her white beater, painted ever so wonderfully with Pink Floyd's famous logo for the 'Dark Side of the Moon' album on both sides? No, not nearly as much as I was terrified by the hundreds of dolls she had in the dash, lined up along the side of the car, or later by the one that was chuckling underneath all of her luggage as I sat alone in the backseat, wondering where on earth that Chucky noise was coming from and would I make it out alive.

But I survived. And here I am again in Sydney...desperate for a job and some money to replenish the funds that I so quickly depleted on my amazing journey. Perhaps I will continue to save through Christmas, in hopes of planning yet another trip...I'm thinking New Zealand!

Whitsundays and Fraser Island

Long overdue. What else can you expect from someone having the time of her life?

Last time I was just leaving Townsville, headed for Airlie Beach, where I ended up spending a good four days hanging about, reading a book in the hammock of my hostel, watching outdoor movies at sunset on a tarp whose backdrop was the entire Airlie Beach Bay, playing trivia for free bottles of champagne, and walking beautiful national forest treks overlooking the Whitsunday Islands.

What are the Whitsundays? Only the most beautiful 74 islands on this planet. After my days in Airlie, I boarded a sailing vessel, "Summertime", for a three-day, two-night cruise around these islands. When we visited what is officially named the second best beach in the world, Whitehaven, I knew that this trip would truly be something special. The sand is as white as you could ever possibly imagine, containing 97% silica, it is the perfect exfoliant, leaving your skin feeling silky smooth. My shipmates and I wandered the less frequented section of the beach alone, our own special spot in paradise. We put on wetsuits (to protect us from the deadly box stinger jellyfish) and spent hours splashing around in simply the most beautifully blue water I have ever seen.

The rest of the trip aboard Summertime was just as magical. We snorkelled in some of the most untouched coral in the Great Barrier Reef, swimming alongside sea turtles, spotting white-tip sharks, and finding Nemo. Our ship is the only vessel in the area that has inflatable kayaks, which we took out one morning as the sun rose to spot stingrays and more turtles floating alongside our boat. Back aboard the vessel, we would hop into our jacuzzi at the front of the ship, warming up before being served our giant Aussie BBQ and heading off to our small cabins underneath the ship. It was nothing short of perfection.

After my trip to the Whitsundays, it was hard to imagine anything as unique or exciting. But only a day later, I was headed to Rainbow Beach, where I met the three strangers who would accompany me to Fraser Island on a self-drive, three-day safari. The next morning, camping gear packed into the back of the giant Land Rover they give us to take to the island, the four of us headed off to the ferry for our adventure. Darren, the 6'7" dingo-chasing, full-of-life Brit, Chris, the 19 year old, always-smiling German, and Sarah, my dear friend from Scotland. An interesting crew to say the least, we arrived on the island, hopping into the 4WD and driving on the sand to our first destination. The island is the world's largest sand island and the beaches have been converted into highways. Nothing quite like driving along the beach in an SUV with speed limit signs stuck into the sand dunes, other cars driving along the shore, waves crashing.

We spent three days on Fraser, exploring the beaches and inland lakes with our SUV. We would drive on back roads, figuring out how to navigate in the dry powder, getting stuck, driving over giant boulders, into streams...quite the adventure. Then we would get out of the car, go on a nice walk and find ourselves smack dab in front of the most beautiful, pristine, secluded lake. The waterways are so clean that we drank the water straight from them. It was something out of a fairytale, as the three of us found ourselves alone on Basin Lake, nothing but nature surrounding us.

Our nights consisted of setting up camp...and since I was the only one with any real camping experience, I became somewhat of the camp mother, showing them how to set up the tents, cooking the meals, teaching everyone how to make S'mores. (Can you even imagine living in a country that doesn't know what a S'more is? The omission of this tradition should be an international crime!) We sat around the fire, drinking goon (cheap boxed wine), telling stories, meeting aborigines who live on the island, and chasing the world's only purebred dingoes (wild dogs).

After the sailing and Fraser, I was BEAT. So I decided to come to a little resort town on the Sunshine Coast. In Noosa the past few days, I have been relaxing, taking long walks in the national forests, visiting the world-famous Eumundi markets, and staying in a quaint guesthouse with only eight other lovely people from around the world.

Life continues to surprise me. I think I may have had my long-awaited epiphany, but perhaps I'll keep you all in suspense for now. All I know is that around each corner is another wonder and I am so so so lucky to have the chance to see what I have seen.

Love you all :)

Good 'Ol Maggie

Prior to leaving Atherton, I spent an amazing day with some friends from the Lodge, driving over to the jungle-top town of Kuranda, where we jumped off twenty-foot ledges into deep gorges atop a giant, cascading waterfall. As the tourists looked on from their “viewing platform”, we stood atop the waterfall, swimming and enjoying our own private viewing of the magical wonder. After this glorious day, it was even harder to say goodbye to Atherton, but it was time to move on, so I packed up and grabbed a bus to Townsville.

In Townsville, I wandered along The 5-kilometer Strand, ambling along the coastline path, lined with tropical palms, giant fountains, and several rock pools and lagoons. I found it interesting to see that they had several boxes along the way full of vinegar for the box-stinger jellyfish, a real threat here to swimmers in the summer months. That evening I grabbed some fish and chips at the local pub, Molly Malones, and met what would soon become my family for the next couple of days. Carl and Allie, from England, were traveling with the Aussie Drew, and we instantly hit it off, as I eavesdropped on their conversation about movies and “that guy who dances around naked in the bedroom”, jumping in and screaming, “It's Tom Cruise and the movie is 'Cocktail'”. Duh. What followed was a few more drinks, a lot of laughs, and an agreement to pick me up the next morning to go to the famous Magnetic Island just off the coast of Townsville.

Indeed, at 9:30 the next morning, we were off to the ferry station, where Drew and Carl purchased Canadian Club and Coca-Colas to drink at 10 in the morning. I thought to myself, “oh boy, this is going to be a long weekend.” Upon arriving on “Maggie”, we went our own separate ways to our previously-booked hostels, only to reunite later when the three amigos showed up with motor bikes for us to ride around the island. I hopped on the back of one, where we drove to Horseshoe Bay for a quick lunch and then on to Alma Bay for a swim in the warmest ocean water I have ever felt. We spent the entire day driving around the magical island, swimming, stopping at lookouts that were beyond breathtaking and visiting rock points with hundreds of rock wallabies (small, kangaroo-like animals). That night we found ourselves at the local community center cheering on a teengage band and the best beat-boxer in Australia. As the locals wondered, “who are these tourists crashing our party?”, we danced and cheered to this peculiar party we had found.

Back on the dirt bikes in the morning, the boys dropped Allie and I off at a hiking trail, where we ascended the hill to the forts that Australia built on the island during World War II. The forts were not only impressive; the views from atop were literally amazing. On our way down, we kept our eyes pealed for a koala, as we had been told they often frequent this area. Sure enough, there was one, in the tree, only five feet from where we were standing. We watched for nearly a half hour, standing mere feet from the little guy as he sat passively watching us, trying to keep his eyes open. I had to pinch myself; I was watching a koala in the wild!

The great day came to an end with the Townsville Air Show, which we could view from the island's pier at Picnic Bay. Ironically enough, we had planned a picnic for the night, so we set up a wide array of cheeses, meats, wines, pates, and fruits, and watched the US fighter planes soar above us, twisting and turning, followed by a 45-minute fireworks display over the ocean. Wow.

It was so hard to say goodbye to Maggie and to my little family the next day, but it was time to move on...a quick visit to the local markets before hopping on a bus to Airlie Beach, where I am now. Tomorrow I have a 3-day, 2-night sailing cruise in the famous Whitsunday Islands, including Whitehaven Beach, named the second best beach in the entire world. I am thrilled and loving this adventure, but of course miss you all.