145 days to departure. It sounds like a long time. Just under five months. But it’s long enough, no where near even. We haven’t booked anything yet, even though we know where we’re going, our friends know we’re coming, we were nice enough to give them a warning, you probably think I’m joking. I’m not.
It’s been thirteen years since I (K) have been to the States and Canada and now that it’s fast approaching I’m stressing over it more than I thought I would. Will it have changed a lot? Will I remember my “Americanisms” correctly. We’re planning on covering a lot of new ground, VERY new for J who’s never been before, and I’m worrying about screwing that up. In theory it should be an incredible adventure. In theory.
We’re flying into Vancouver, then making our way via Amtrak across to Chicago, then to LA – with a brief stopover at the Grand Canyon – across the bottom to New Orleans, up to Washington D.C. then on to New York, over to Toronto before finally getting off of the constant train riding at Kalamazoo, then flying back to Vancouver and eventually home to Australia.
Tonight we’re going to decide/debate/argue about which bags to buy. I’m voting for Black Wolf Ridgerunner’s and Pegasus’. But that’s me. J’s trying to convince me to get rigid cases, which I hate. We’ll keep you posted as to what we decide.