The photo at left shows a couple of wet, sweaty rats hiking in the bottom of the Grand Canyon last spring. But that's another story.
In a mere month we'll hoist our backpacks onto our shoulders and step aboard our home for the next 30 days: the French freighter Matisse. We expect to wash up on the Australian shore on Christmas eve, confusingly enough in the middle of summer. As our once-Brit friend Frances cautions us, they drive on the 'correct' side of the road. Of course they do. It's the other side of the world, in the southern hemisphere where, rumor has it, flushing toilets swirl in the other direction.
For now we're freezing our butts in Vermont. So far we're gracefully leaping each hurdle without even snagging our pants: visas, medical and dental exams, financial arrangements, insurance, various cancellations of mags, storage arrangements for our Chinook, et cet er a.
Keep in touch . . . and be liberal with advice and suggestions.
