The title probably isn’t funny to anyone but me (I seem to inherited my dad’s terrible sense of humor), but there’s a joke in there! We had to abandon our plans of a year of travel back in early September when my back decided it was too cranky to carry on.
It has been just one week since we landed in Iceland, and now we’re sitting on an Atlantic Airways flight headed to Vagar Airport in the Faroe Islands.
—Actually we’re now on Day 3 of our time in the Faroes, but it turns out that our days are fairly packed to the point that I have had little time to even jot down what we’ve done in my notebook, let alone write a blog post. Gah, this is going to be hard if I keep moving at this rate!
Current status: typing this on our first flight from Charleston to Boston; posting this a few days later from Mývatn, North Iceland
Our big day is finally here! Life has been incredibly hectic over the last few weeks—wrapping up school for the kids, wrapping up loose ends of all sorts for the parents, and lots and lots of packing. We’ve had a slew of “lasts” for now—the last stroll through our beautiful neighborhood, the last hugs goodbye from close friends, the last visit from my younger brother (who flew all the way from LA in the middle of a long-anticipated move to spend a few days with us last week), the last cuddles with our pups (currently in the excellent hands of our house/dog sitter)…