Here’s the Story – Part 2

Back in February 2020, right before the world got super duper weird, Rob gave me one of the best gifts EVER. He drove me to North Hollywood to see the Brady Bunch house.

I won’t go into detail – my February 6, 2020 blog about that visit can fill you in. Suffice it to say, I am a HUGE Brady Bunch fan. HUGE. Enormous. Big Time Brady Fan Girl right here.

Back in 2020, the best a superfan could do was drive up to the house and gaze at it from across the street. There was a security guard positioned in the driveway preventing any lingering, and absolutely no approaching the front door. But that was good enough, since visiting the interior was completely incomprehensible.  

Fast-forward to September 2023. HGTV decided it had gotten all the ratings it could from totally renovating the house’s interior to match the studio sets the series had been filmed on. The network put the iconic house on the market and a fellow Brady Bunch Superfan named Tina snatched it up for a groovy $3.2 million. Reportedly Tina’s husband, the former CEO of HBO, had only one question for her: “Have you lost your mind?” Apparently he thought his Gen X wife wanted to live in the house.

Oh, to be so lucky!

So what did Tina actually want to do with the house? Well, first she got it designated as a Historical-Cultural Monument by the City of Los Angeles. Then she decided to share it with fellow Brady Superfans.

The Bradys' house is the first property in
Los Angeles to get this protection
as a filming location outside of a studio lot.
The designation protects the outside AND
the inside. How groovy is that?!

WHAT?!?

Yes, you can buy tickets – with proceeds going to Tina’s favorite animal shelter – for a one-hour visit inside the totally furnished Brady Bunch house!! Truly! Yes, I pretty much bounced off the couch chanting, "Take my money!" when I learned this.

When I first read about this opportunity, I thought for sure it was only for fancy people. Connected people. Industry people. Not for a 58-year-old woman whose only Hollywood connection is once posing for a photo with Ted Danson and an alpaca.

Back in 2011 when we were all
much younger.

Because I have the most amazing and supportive husband EVER, today I was a passenger princess as Rob drove across the trafficky Los Angeles metro to make my dreams come true.

Yes, we spent an hour INSIDE the Brady Bunch House today! IT WAS INCREDIBLE!!

I was just a few yards ahead of Rob out of 
unbridled excitement to GET INSIDE!!

When I knocked on the front door as instructed, it slowly opened to reveal a friendly woman in a blue maid’s dress welcoming us inside. We were asked to take off our shoes, wear provided socks and booties, and not touch anything or sit on the furniture. “Treat it as a museum.” We could, however, take photos with abandon and wander on our own.

The door knobs are PERFECT!
It felt surreal just standing there.

Fortunately, all of this information had been provided ahead of time via email. Because once I was inside The Bradys’ house, my listening ears turned off. Instead, I heard the voices of my adopted TV family speaking a mishmash of dialogue from 117 memorized episodes. I spent the next hour walking around with an enormous smile, wide eyes, and a couple of times, tears.

OH. MY. GOSH!!!!!!!!!

I was not expecting to feel so emotional in The Bradys’ house.

I gasped at the sight of The Staircase. I smiled at the couch in Mike’s den where Jan sat and lamented, “Marcia, Marcia, Marcia!” I stared at the groovy 1960s rectangular art at the foot of the staircase, realizing how it is instantly identifiable by any fan. It was all absolutely perfect.

I wanted to touch EVERYTHING!

There it is!! Every Brady fan knows
that paneling!

The tears came when I entered the Brady girls’ bedroom upstairs. I stood in the middle of the room, taking in the three pink bedspreads, the giraffe stuffed animal in the corner, Kitty Karry-All on Cindy’s bed. It was so familiar, so comfortable, so nostalgic. Suddenly, it struck me.

“Oh my gosh. I grew up in this bedroom.”

This was after the tears. And please ignore
the fashion booties.

And that was it. That was the emotion. The Brady House was home. My home. I grew up there. I watched multiple episodes every day after school for years. When I told my mother-in-law a few days ago that we were going to see the inside of the Brady Bunch house, she asked if there would be a tour guide. My reply? “I don’t need one!”

It was fascinating to me which rooms I felt the most drawn to. The girls’ bedroom was the strongest. The kitchen, too. And Mike and Carol’s bedroom. And the dining room table. And the couch in the living room.

I hate to cook and yet, I totally
wanted to hang out in this kitchen.

The screen behind us really got me. I have
no idea why. But wow, it was important
to me to see it.

Sadly, the best photo I have of the
dining room table. It was hard to balance
being present, being in awe, and being 
a photographer.

I wasn’t as emotionally drawn to Greg’s attic bedroom or the family room or the boys’ bedroom or the backyard. I have no idea why.

It took me about 30 minutes to take my first lap. I then sat on a step in the entryway and tried to be fully present in one of the most surreal moments of my life. It sort of worked.

I still can't believe I was there.

On my second lap, I tried to notice all the little Easter Eggs that were scattered around the house, each a reference to a well-known storyline.

The architectural drawings of Beebe Gallini’s powder puff-shaped factory. Marcia’s drawing of George Washington that was mistaken for Mrs. Denton. The box of Safe Detergent in the laundry room. The egg on the pylon at the front of Mike’s convertible. The stack of letters to “Dear Libby.” The book about Jesse James that got Bobby in trouble. The typewritten gossip column written by Peter. The silver anniversary platter. Alice’s white sneakers. Jan’s wig.

Mike's drafting table in his den!
The powder puff is on the left, the
plans on the right are HGTV's plans
for renovating the original structure.

Marcia drew George Washington.
Then Paula found it and added the unflattering
note about Mrs. Denton. Marcia was in 
BIG trouble when the teacher found it.
Luckily, Paula fessed up and all was well
within 24 minutes.

The letters each of the kids and Alice
wrote to an advice columnist.

Alice's Keds!

The recreation of the Bradys’ house was astounding. The attention to detail was incredible. I kept forgetting the series was not actually filmed in the house. It was so real, so perfect, so complete. I was even more incredulous when I was told that there was only one original item in the entire house; everything else had been tracked down through antique stores and online searches to replicate what had appeared on the show. The Love of Brady runs deep.

The red sleeping bag is the only 
original item. It was in the episode
where Marcia has a slumber party.

Rob and I were the last to leave. We found out that Tina allows a maximum of 8 people to come inside the house each day from 12:30-1:30pm. There were just two other couples walking around with us, equally mesmerized and lost in memories. We all looked about the same age, all giddy and appreciative. We were mostly quiet, with whispered, “OH, WOW!” and “Come look at this!” One woman softly laughed and asked, “Why are we so quiet?”

I smiled at her and answered, “Reverence.”

My 8-year-old and my 58-year-old
brains are both utterly flabbergasted
by this photo!!!

First Stop: Cape Town, South Africa!

Although we were in Cape Town for 2.5 days, the first 1.5 didn’t really count. We arrived at about 11:00am but – despite having slept some on the plane – we were both exhausted. And a mixture of annoyed and panicked about the delayed suitcase (much more me than Rob).

So Day One-Half was spent entirely at our hotel. Which wasn’t bad – the décor was distinctly Not Woodhaven…or even American. The food was blessedly familiar (pasta, pizza, burgers), and the wine list was delightfully local. Our room had a view of Table Mountain, which was super cool. Really, for not leaving the hotel, it was a great place to hang out and feel like we weren’t anywhere close to home.

Super colorful random chairs
next to the elevator in our hotel

Hotel lobby

Unpronounceable wine list!

View of Table Mountain and some 
windmills from our hotel room...
through a screen.

We were amazed by how quickly night turned to day. It was entirely the fog’s fault.

I had no idea, but Cape Town has quite a fog problem. Because of the geography of the Atlantic Ocean and a big ridge of mountains (including Cape Town’s iconic Table Mountain), and the fluctuations of temperatures, fog is very common in South Africa’s second-largest city. Ditto high winds that often also delay ships coming or going from port.

In what seemed like a matter of about 10 minutes as the sun was setting, our hotel view of Cape Town changed from a sunny, clear, warm Autumn evening (yeah, the change of seasons with an airplane flight is a TRIP!) to a cold, windy, damp, dark night with headlights and streetlights. Truly, it felt like God had cued the fog machine in turbo mode. We called it an early night and tried to sleep despite the ruminating panic about the missing suitcase.

The fog was so pretty! And moved even
quicker than San Francisco fog.

The next day kicked into gear after we returned to the airport to gratefully retrieve our delayed luggage (YAY!!!)  and meet up with our Princess transfer to the ship. For the first time in our cruising history, Rob and I joined the fun mid-way. Most of the folks onboard the Crown Princess have been sailing together for about a month from Sydney, Australia. There are reportedly 216 of us who hopped on in Cape Town, 12 of which were on our small shuttle bus.

Due to heavy fog, the ship’s arrival in Cape Town was delayed by about 90 minutes. South Africa has very particular rules about EVERYONE clearing immigration, whether they are arriving or departing the country (I have some cool stamps in my passport now!). So, when we arrived at the port on schedule, ready to saunter onto the Crown Princess, we were instead met with frustrated chaos as about 2,000 eager cruisers were trying to get off the late ship, process through immigration, and hurriedly get on tour buses.

Proof we arrived by air on May 31 and
departed by cruise ship on June 2

“Maybe take a nice walk around the waterfront for a couple of hours and come back before 4:00,” suggested a rather harried Princess employee holding a clipboard.

That’s exactly what we did. And I’m grateful, because it was the last time we had clear views – and photo ops – of Table Mountain.

The best photo we have of us and Table Mountain.
Us...without make-up or hair products (me) and
a two-day beard (Rob).

We poked around a museum dedicated to Nelson Mandela. We looked in souvenir shops. We ate a tasty German lunch (Cape Town has Dutch, German, and British periods in its history). We tried to comprehend we were in South Africa.

No, I didn't buy one.

Frankfurter lunch!

I still don't know what South Africa calls
restrooms (WC? Toilet? Bathroom?).
But this sign was pretty clear I was in the right place.

Public art and 3 locals tuned in to a Very Big
Deal Soccer (Football) game

Souvenir shop on the waterfront.
I ended up buying an adorable
hippopotams, for no good reason.

Yesterday – our only full day of South Africa Touring – was spent riding a bus for about 90 minutes to a well-known (to some) wine area called Stellenbosch. I had thought about doing a safari excursion, but most of the ones offered by the cruise line were already sold out. What was left looked like the drive-thru-zoo approach I have done in California and Oregon. I wasn't ready to navigate finding an independent tour, so wine it was!

Sadly, we only went to one of Stellenbosch's over 300 wineries. And the winery (also called a wine farm) was one somewhat familiar to Rob and me, as some of their wines are available in the United States. Bummer! We wanted to learn and try stuff we had never heard of. Instead, we ended up learning more about South African wine from the hotel’s wine list and Wikipedia.

Pronounced "blauw - klippen" which
means "blue rock." We bought 2
bottles ($11 each!) to enjoy in our
cabin over the next month.

Just a quick paragraph on South African wines, since I didn’t learn enough to warrant a separate blog.

South Africa grows mostly warm-weather grapes in their limestone soil, and most varietals are very familiar: Cabernet Sauvignon, Merlot, Shiraz (Syrah), Chardonnay, Sauvignon Blanc, Chenin Blanc. They also do a sparkling wine officially called Cap Classique but most people call it “MCC” for Méthode Cap Classique which is what it was originally called until the French got in a snit and said they own “Méthode” as a part of their proprietary term “Champagne.” Quel horreur! South Africa does have its own signature varietal – a red grape called Pinotage. It is a cross between Pinot Noir grapes and Cinsault grapes (called Hermitage at the time). Rob and I tried a couple Pinotages and we really liked them – fruity, bright, a touch of smokiness, would be great with BBQ, pork, pizza… We plan to scout out Pinotages at home.

SO weird to see dormant vines in June!
Being in the southern hemisphere
has totally confused me. I have no
idea which way is north...

Even though the winery was a little underwhelming, I did enjoy the bus ride and the chance to see more of the area around Cape Town. Including a field of zebras! It was so fast, and I was so stunned, there sadly is no photographic proof of this pretty bizarre sighting.

What I loved about the area was the mountains. They are tall and jagged and rugged. At times, I was reminded of the mountains on Kauai, even if those are volcanic and the South African ones are limestone. I also loved watching the fog spill over Table Mountain. We had a prime view on our ship before we set sail. The fog fell fast and it was mesmerizing.

I could stare at South African mountains all day.

As integrated as the South African society is now (compared to apartheid times), it was challenging to see stark Have and Have Not living conditions. Along our bus rides, we saw a number of townships. These are communities of poverty. The houses look like piecemealed shacks smushed tightly together. They exist in areas that were once established and overseen by the South African government to limit the movement of non-white people. Bathrooms (showers and toilets) were communal; not sure about today. At one point, the South African government gave everyone in townships satellite dishes. However, their usefulness is limited if you don’t have a TV or cell phone – which few residents had at the time.

Our tour guide, sensing heartbroken curiosity, revealed that the people who live in townships today are just regular people – people in the service industries, construction, hotel and hospitality, Uber drivers, etc. Pretty much all township residents are black; white people don’t live in townships. They live in townships because they can not earn enough money to live elsewhere. As a result, tips are A BIG DEAL in South Africa. The minimum wage is equivalent to about $3 per hour and is widely understood to be unlivable. Tips are how people actually afford to live.

All this being said, another local source suggested that although townships have a segregational history, today they can be a vibrant, energetic, culturally-steeped concentration of people and traditions. Apparently you can take tours of townships? That seems both wrong and enlightening.

Some of the townships can be quite large - like
hundreds of thousands of people per township

After our day exploring, I overheard a number of fellow cruisers saying they want to return to Cape Town someday. Me, I’m not so sure. It’s geographically beautiful – again, the mountains. And I would love to explore more of the wine. And a real safari would be mind-blowing to go on someday.

But returning to Cape Town just to explore some more? Probably not. We saw half of the Hop-On Hop-Off bus tour highlights just by walking around, so I’m not sure how much else I would need to see. Especially with two days of airplane travel required to get here. I am absolutely THRILLED that I finally got to see South Africa! But I am ready to cruise on and see more of this far-from-home continent.

Next Stop: Namibia!

Cape Town sunset just as we were
getting ready to set sail.

Lollygagging Luggage

We wrapped up two days in Cape Town, South Africa (blog coming tomorrow!), and we are currently sailing to our second port. My mind is still trying to understand that it and the rest of my body are in Africa. I have lost track of the number of times Rob and I have looked at each other over the past week and said something along the lines of, “What the hell are we doing?!?” Yep, “South Africa” was not on either of our Marriage Bingo Cards 36 years ago.

The flight to Cape Town was LONG. We arrived at PDX on Friday at 3:00pm. We landed at Cape Town’s airport at about 10:45am on Sunday. In between were three flights and a 7.5-hour layover at London Heathrow.

You would think over 7 hours would have been enough time for all three of our bags to find our final aircraft. But nope. After nearly 2 days of travel, Rob and I were greeted in Cape Town with news that one of our suitcases was taking an extended holiday without us. It was lounging in London. The bag that had all of our toiletries and most of my deal-with-pain and go-to-sleep gear. Bugger!

Fresh off about 36 hours of travel

Although British Airways assured me the wayward suitcase would arrive on the same flight the next day, they had also assured me all three bags would make it the first time. So my confidence was low (based on other prior BA experience as well. Not my favorite airline but I’m a slave to frequent flyer mileage partners). It was a long night filled with not a lot of sleep and a lot of worst-case-scenario ruminating.

At about 3am, I mindlessly checked my AirTag tracker and was alarmed to see this.

According to Google Translate,
it was at the Visitor Center for 
a park in a small town

My suitcase was now frolicking in France?!? 

I spent a few panicked moments imagining my blue suitcase slowly rolling down a dark road in the Normandy countryside, doing its level best to reunite with me and its two matching buddies.

But then I realized that – much more likely – a fellow passenger had probably momentarily turned off their phone’s airplane mode, had Bluetooth on, and happened to be sitting above my suitcase’s location in the cargo hold. All just long enough for the tag to find itself some 35,000 feet above northwestern France. Deciding I liked Scenario B much better, I clung to the AirTag’s map as proof that my suitcase was indeed on the flight to Cape Town and would we be together in a matter of hours.

Later that morning, I was showered and dressed in record time. Amazing how much faster things go without moisturizers, hair gel, or make-up. Rob and I shared one travel toothbrush he had tucked away from British Airways’ amenity bag (it’s like they knew…), and one tiny bottle of wet, sticky roll-on deodorant procured from the hotel’s sundries shop for a mere 50 Rand (about $3.00). We had three scents to choose from. We both ended up smelling like a 23-year-old guy fresh out of the gym shower (aka AXE).

Shortly before 11:00am, my AirTag promised victory.

Afrikaans is a fun language to 
look at!

About 15 minutes later, I was overcome with emotion. SO grateful I wasn’t going to have to Uber to a Makro (my late-night research suggested it as the South African equivalent to Target), nor spend 30 days languishing in pain and sleep deprivation. I was also relieved I wasn’t going to learn how to use the “Lost luggage” feature of our travel insurance.

Yes, my back hurt doing this.
No, I didn't care.

And with that – all three suitcases, two backpacks, and my trusty lumbar pillow – Rob and I and our gear were ready to board our new home for the next month and enter Vacation Mode At Sea.

Yon is officially ON!

Fun wall of plants in our hotel's lobby
in Cape Town, South Africa

 

 

On to Yon!

When we hatched this plan a couple of months ago – thanks to a sale and an impressively spontaneous husband – I was stunned and wary that we could pull it off. As I sit in London’s Heathrow airport for the second time in a week, my emotions haven’t changed. Although you could add “extensively jet lagged” to the list.

We arrived in a different terminal today. We had
to board a bus and ride 10 minutes to another
terminal. TEN MINUTES. Heathrow is 
enormous.

We were home for all of 70 hours this past week. During that time, we were a whirlwind of turbo-speed activity. We did laundry, mowed the lawn, paid bills, made some decisions about Tim, got haircuts, slept sporadically. My body has absolutely no idea what time it is. I have a recollection of doing laundry a few days ago as soon as the sun came up. I didn’t want to turn on our patio lights to trudge through our backyard with my laundry basket.

The current state of Tim.
The beam behind Randy to the left is going to
hit our new cabinets. After much discussion,
we decided to pivot it out just a bit. Much
better than moving the cabinets.

Oh, and we packed. Three suitcases again, but bigger ones. With a greater variety of outfits and shoes. And with enough clothes and medications to last us about twice as long as our Hither trip.

So where is Yon taking us??

A cruise. A long cruise. A 33-day cruise – longer than we’ve ever lived on a ship. A cruise that goes to 16 ports, none of which we have ever been to. Several are Bucket List places (Amsterdam!); a number are places I never imagined visiting (Estonia?!).

We are currently waiting (7 hours…) to board our flight to Cape Town, South Africa (MAJOR Bucket List location!) where we will embark the Crown Princess in a couple of days. We will sail our way northward…and then eastward into Scandinavia…and will disembark in Dover, England. We fly home on July 4.

We will be stopping at all the 
red circles, but mostly staying 
in one time zone.

I’m still bewildered that we are doing this. And I’m still not convinced this ridiculously fast turn-around was a good idea. But we’re all in and almost half-way there – no turning back now!

I cannot wait to get on the ship. But not just because it will be a vacationy adventure. What I’m really craving is normalcy. Routine. Familiarity.

Rob and I have been living out of suitcases and changing locations every 3-5 days since March. I can’t wait to finally unpack my toiletries and set them up on a counter! My back is looking forward to having the same bed to sleep in for weeks in a row. My tummy is looking forward to having food easily accessible on a whim. I bought some yogurt yesterday as a snack. Upon returning to Woodhaven to enjoy my “breakfast in the afternoon,” I realized I didn’t have a spoon. I cried. This is after I had to do an 8-point turn-around in our driveway and park on a nearby gravel road because a gaggle of contractor trucks were blocking all parking options in front of Woodhaven.

So, yeah, I am not sad to be missing out on a chunk of the Chaos of Tim Construction over the next month, even if we’re finally at the point where it’s going to be fun. While we are cruising, Woodhaven will slowly start being put back together. Drywall, paint, cabinetry. Tim won’t be done when we get back, but his completion should be within sight. YAY!

In the meantime, I invite you to come cruising with me from the comfort of your armchair or couch. We’re going to go to some far-flung places, and it’s going to be a blast! And no suitcases for a month!!!

Next stop: Cape Town, South Africa!

 

Let Down in Lisbon

As you might have surmised from the title, I wasn’t as enthralled by Lisbon as I had hoped. Boo! I’m very happy to have visited the large waterfront city, but I’m grateful it does not represent my full exposure to Portugal. Because if it did, I wouldn’t be tempted to return to what is truly a beautiful, lovely country with friendly people and delicious adult beverages.

The buildings are pretty. And the weather was...
sticky. I'm so not made for humidity.

I had heard people compare Lisbon to San Francisco. And indeed there are similarities. They are both very hilly cities. They are both on large bodies of water that touch an ocean. They both have large red bridges that look eerily similar. They both feature old-timey cable cars. They both are overrun by tourists.

Old Timey Trolley Cable Car in Lisbon

I promise that's not the Golden Gate Bridge!
It's the 25th of April Bridge, named in honor
of the 1974 revolution that freed Portugal from
a dictatorship. It was built in 1966 (the Golden
Gate Bridge was built in 1937).

The old section of Lisbon is the 
hilliest. For a video clip of the 
steep, narrow streets, click here.

I lived near San Francisco for nearly 30 years. And I worked in The City’s downtown for over 10 years. So I am biased. But Lisbon just doesn’t sparkle like San Francisco. It doesn’t feel as livable. And oh goodness, the sidewalks! Lisbon sidewalks are slippery tiles and cobblestones, none flat or even, with ruts and divots that just scream “PHYSICAL THERAPY.” I’m grateful we didn’t try to roll any suitcases around town.

This section is in pretty good shape!
No ankle-twisting crevices.
I can not imagine how scary
this is in the rain.

Walking around Lisbon felt more like a trudge and less like a meander of discovery. Its energy felt muted and perfunctory, not lively and vibrant like Barcelona or Porto. I couldn’t get a good read on Lisbon’s personality. It just felt like a large, historic city plodding along until it’s time to break for coffee.

Meh.

My less than enthusiastic impression of Lisbon wasn’t helped by the fact that our first bus tour featured a driver that either hated his job or hated tourists. Or both. He surged and swayed the little bus all over the old, intensely hilly parts of Lisbon, causing my back and my stomach to rebel a bit. I’m ashamed that I couldn’t bring myself to even politely say “Thank you” as I escaped his 4-wheeled torture buggy.

After regrouping in a McDonald's – and being thoroughly entertained by the little delivery trolleys – Rob and I got on a bigger bus and enjoyed a much less jarring tour of Lisbon’s museum district and waterfront. I loved all the beautiful purple jacaranda trees fully in bloom!

Sadly taken after she delivered our 
lackluster fries and weird carbonated
pineapple beverage. But the air conditioning
ROCKED!

I fell in love with jacaranda trees
when I first noticed them in Australia.
If we time it right, we also see them 
in Southern California.

Even so, after 6 hours and nearly as many miles walking over imminently dangerous sidewalks, I was relieved to return to our hotel’s gardeny oasis bar and toast to a city explored. And a trip well-traveled.

Honestly, my favorite spot in Lisbon.
The hotel's courtyard was such a 
lovely respite!

So now we are on our way home. I’m actually typing this while on the last – and longest – leg of our 24ish hour trek back to Woodhaven. I’m tired but also grateful my body held up to all I asked of it over the past 16 days.

I’m also grateful for the education along the way.

I learned I like Spanish Tempranillos much better than American versions.

I learned I love 20-year-old tawny ports and even older vintage ports.

I learned Portuguese wines are salty.

I learned a dry white wine mixed with tonic water and some mint is a lively, hip oh-so-European way to toast a warm day.

I learned I do not like Spanish or Portuguese food. So much fish. Except for tapas. Tapas are fun!

I learned that avocado is a great addition to a breakfast buffet. Ditto sliced ham.

I learned that as much as I like food and exploring new cuisines, I’m not fancy enough for “gastronomic experiences,” and Michelin Stars are wasted on my tastebuds.

I learned that I can still enjoy traveling even when I can’t sleep and am riddled with anxiety. In related news, I also learned magnesium supplements are not for me.

I learned I can travel pretty lightly – and merino wool is amazing – but a limited wardrobe gets boring real fast. Even with a jeans jacket and jaunty scarf.

I learned that while I really enjoyed and benefited greatly from having private tours (organized by our travel agent), having a personal tour guide was a lot of socializing and not a lot of time for recharging. This introvert is pooped!

I learned (or confirmed) that as much as I love to get out and see the world, I live exactly where I am supposed to be. I missed the peace, groundedness, and refreshing dampness of Woodhaven. I am happy to be heading home, even if it is for what can be best be counted in hours.

Yes, Hither is coming to a close. And Yon is right on its heels.

We will be back at Woodhaven for less than 72 hours before we head back to PDX for the next adventure in Escaping Tim (which is progressing along quite well from all reports). I personally think we are nuts, but it sounded like a grand idea a few months ago.

Stay tuned!

Cheers from Lisbon!
And to the next travel adventure!