Street sign, fully heeded.

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I’ve been to London a good number of times. We usually go at least once a year, sometimes twice, and the total number of trips Rand and I have taken there are numbering close to a dozen. I’m started convincing myself that I’ve seen all the city has to offer. I’ve been to tons of its museums – mainstays like the British Museum and more obscure ones like the Old Operating Theater and herb garret and the London Transport Museum. I’ve visited the Globe, and the Tate Modern, and the Tower of London; I’ve spent way, waaaay too much time shopping in Covent Garden and wandering around Borough Market.

I figured I’d seen London. Been there. Done that. Eaten those. Right?

But sure enough, every time I go, I uncover another corner of the city that I never knew existed. Some magical neighborhood that I’ve never even heard of, much less seen. This time, it was London’s east end – a collection of hip and quirky neighborhoods packed with independent shops and restaurants, street musicians and giant murals.

It was a wonderful reminder that, despite all my trips there, I’ve seen only the tiniest bit of this massive, diverse metropolis. There’s always something new and magical to uncover. Stores to browse in. People to meet. Cookies to eat.

Here are ten photos from our trip to London’s East End.

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1. Street sign for Brick Lane, as if the eponymous masonry wasn’t enough.
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2. Cheeky self-referential street art.
   
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3. Steaming paella near Notting Hill.
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4. Dinosaur, Einstein, and eyeball murals.
   

   At least, I think it’s Einstein. I guess it could also be the Fonz.

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5. Rand mashes a bagel into his face at Beigel Bake, on Brick Lane.
   

   “RAND …  chomple-gobble-smack … HAPPY.”

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6. The most glorious door knocker, ever, near Columbia Road.
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7. Taking the criticisms of a neon sign a little too personally.
   

   Oh, hush. It’s not about you. You only have one, and last I checked, it was rather clean.

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8. If a book can have a chip on its shoulder, this one would.
   

   Disclaimer: half of the pages are blank. KIDDING! I’m kidding. Kidneys are delicious, y’all.

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9. Bacon street murals.
   

   Note the total absence of bacon.

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10. Obligatory snuggle photo of me and Rand, Columbia Road Flower Market.
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I’m having trouble getting my thoughts in order this week. I’m once again hit with the obvious realization that I can’t be everywhere at once – certainly not literally, and not even on this blog of mine.

We got back from Sydney less than 24 hours ago (and we left for Australia less than a week after we got back from London). I would very much like to tell you about that trip, but even in the short time since I’ve returned, a lot has happened. I’ve found myself thinking about the people in my life, and how I never feel like I give them the attention they deserve.

I’ve been meaning to visit my brother in California for ages now, but that trip keeps getting delayed as new ones pile up. I owe my friend Chrissy a phone call, and my friend Deanna an email. I should probably talk to my mom, too. And I realize, in addition to all the people I’ve been neglecting as I travel around, there are a few places that I’ve neglected, too. I spent far too little time telling you about Milwaukee, and I managed to completely skip Portsmouth, New Hampshire, all together.

I feel anxious whenever this happens: when my blog can’t keep up with my life. When I can’t keep up with my life. It’s not something I can complain about, but it is something I feel guilty about. There are people in my life who deserve more of my attention; there are also places that deserve more of my attention.

So I hope you’ll forgive me for moving backwards, figuratively at least. There are trips that are still floating in my head, and until I write about them, they won’t seem real.

Today, I want to tell you about Portsmouth, New Hampshire. We were there last November before a storm. Even though it’s sunny outside my window this morning, I can still remember those few days we spent in that little town quite vividly – how the wind howled through the streets as I ran from store to store, trying to keep warm while simultaneously seeing the city.

My friend Deanna, whom I met through this blog of mine, was born in Portsmouth. Since she’s one of those many people I’ve been neglecting as of late, it seems only appropriate to spend the day talking about her birthplace.

Deanna: consider this the blog equivalent of a Facebook “poke”. To be fair, I’ve never really understood what a “poke” was for, but I think it a gentle way of saying, “I miss you, and I’m thinking about you.”

Which, for the record, I am. As well as that little town of yours. Forgive me, but most of these photos are of food, or streets lit up after dark. It seems that I’m drawn to stuff like that.

1. Neon jungle inside The Friendly Toast restaurant. 
   

   The toast wasn’t bad, either.

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2. Chocolate-dipped s’mores at the Mainely Gourmet Chocolate Factory.
   
   

   I got one of these for Rand. I even let him eat part of it.

   
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3. Glow of a salon window, Deer Street. (Incidentally, it reminded me of this painting that we saw in one of the galleries in town.)-
4. Street near downtown, slick with rain.
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5. Corner shops looking very New Hampshirey.
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6. Chocolate-bacon cake with salted caramel, Black Trumpet Bistro.
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7. Shop signage.
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8. The local church in the sunlight.
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9. Shark mural near the waterfront.
   

   So. Many. Teeth.

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10. French toast, Colby’s Restaurant.-

We stayed near the water in Mouille Point, and waking up every morning to this view helped take the edge off of not being in Bushman’s Kloof:

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Leaving the Kloof was hard. I’m not even going to pretend otherwise. It was blissful and beautiful and it pulled at my heartstrings a little to leave. Driving away, it felt like it was the last day of camp, or the morning after a really great slumber party (you know, the ones where no one breaks down crying and the first person to fall asleep doesn’t have peanut butter smeared on her toes by the other guests).

We’d had a lovely time, and we were happy about that, but damn it, it was hard to see it end. It was tough to say goodbye.

Reliving the experience, as I have over the last few weeks on the blog, has been delightful. But it’s now time to move on, once again. Before I figuratively drag you all back to Cape Town (and eventually, out of South Africa all together), I wanted to take one last look at Bushman’s Kloof. Here are twelve photos that I felt best captured our time there. You may have seen some of these before in my other posts; my apologies for that. I didn’t mind looking at them again, and I hope you don’t, either.

1. The long and winding road to Bushman’s Kloof.-
2. The not-quite-infinite infinity pools near the main lodge.-
3. My husband is the cutest thing ever (during a morning hike).-
4. View from the patio of the Koro lodge.-
5. Cave painting of an ox, between approx 2,000 – 10,000 years old.-
6. High tea goodies.-
7. Getting the stare down by a zebra during an evening drive.-
8. Flowers outside our suite at the main lodge.-
9.  Rand tries to decide which of the springbok he will bring home as a pet.-
10. A wary gecko interrupts our dinner at the Koro Lodge.-
11. Kissing my beloved during an evening drive. -
12. Saying goodbye to our absolutely amazing staff at the Kloof.
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A few photos were staged, of course, and they are not without their merits:

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Others weren’t quite planned. I’d just been taking a photo of a group, or of the scenery, and it wasn’t until later that I noticed Kurtis’ expression.

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A few of these photos were unnerving.

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This one in particular creeped me out.

THIS IS UNWHOLESOME, KURTIS.

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I am delighted to say that I still managed to nab a few really nice photos of him and his lovely fiancee Courtney.

Yes, he is wearing a t-shirt on his head. Whatever. It’s still adorable.

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Gorgeous, right? Don’t worry. His composure was short-lived:

I cannot WAIT to see their wedding photos.

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Which is fine, since I’m fairly sure none of us would have it any other way.

It was a brief but fun trip. We wandered around, without any destinations or plans. I didn’t even bring my camera.

That’s right: I didn’t take a single photo. Not a one. But Chrissy did. She was only armed with her phone, but the results are pretty damn great. She snapped this one of her and Skye, which I adore:

Yes, it was taken on Instagram. Quite, you.

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And then later, Skye took this one in the lobby of our hotel:

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It makes me feel all squishy and warm inside. But as I stared at it, I couldn’t shake the feeling that it felt familiar. Then I realized why – it’s because of this actual Polaroid, taken five or so years ago, which also made me feel warm and squishy:

He was out cold (and sober). AT A PARTY.

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At the time, Rand was still struggling with his startup (which was proving exhausting, as you can see), and Chrissy, Skye, and I all still worked together.

I’m very, very tempted to point out how damn young and skinny we look in that last photo. How Rand’s beard doesn’t have a trace of grey in it, how my eyes look bright and happy and how Chrissy … well, she pretty much looks the same. Damn her.

But more than anything, I can’t help but look at that last photo and realize how friggin lucky I am to have had these people in my life for the last half decade.

Warm. Squishy. Not bad for some camera photos and an old Polaroid.

Parenthetically, I REALLY got a kick out of it when this gentleman brought me a bib after I ordered crayfish.

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I usually figure that those other people are in bad moods, have lousy senses of humor, or are plagued with that affliction of sanity that I seem immune to.

And that’s okay, because while they can be better expected to pay their bills on time and be held accountable by a court of law, I feel like I get to squeeze a little more joy out of life.

Consequently, here’s some are some more signs that I saw in South Africa that brought me a great deal of joy. I hope you like them as well. Don’t fret if you don’t. It probably just means that you are a more productive member of society than I am. The sort of person who doesn’t eat frosting for breakfast.

Road Sign on Robben Island.

I feel like this sign is asking the easiest question EVER to answer: should we head towards the prison or towards THE PENGUIN BOARDWALK?
UM, GEE, I DON’T KNOW. OH, WAIT YES I DO: ZOMG PENGUINS.

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Winkelshoek road sign, on the way to Bushman’s Kloof.

Apparently “Winkelshoek” is Dutch for “corner shops”. But when I saw this sign, I promptly yelled, “OH THANK GOD. I’ve been meaning to take a winkle for like, twenty minutes. And now there’s a shack for that.

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Most obvious street name ever, Mouille Point, Cape Town.

I’d like to think that there was a huge meeting to discuss the naming of this road. It went on for hours and hours, and people took to fighting and screaming at one another about it. And finally someone perked up and said, “You guys. YOU GUYS. I … I have an idea. And it’s just crazy enough to work.”

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Sign indicating a closed lawn, Mouille Point, Cape Town.

I love this all a little too much: “Doctor, this lawn needs rehabilitation!” “Agreed. We need to close it down immediately. But even if we do that, I’m not sure if it will ever lawn again.”

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I also love that is specifically says “NO BALL GAMES.” I kind of wanted to run out there with a jump rope and see what would happen.

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Atlantis road sign, seen on the way back to Cape Town from Bushman’s Kloof

“WAY TO GO, SOUTH AFRICA. Now everyone’s gonna know where it is. FYI, Aquaman is gonna be pissed.”

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Now if you please excuse me, I need to go start my day with a healthy bowl of frosting.

This is Joel.

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I have found that there are times when I am traveling with a group that someone needs to use the bathroom.

That’s probably not all that surprising, huh? You are probably thinking, “Um, yes, that happens to all of us, genius.” But I’d hope that your takeaway is that I am real and approachable and relatable and not just a stater of the obvious.

Even if, you know, I try to be relatable by totally stating the obvious.

“Cupcakes are awesome. Travel is great. EVERYONE SHOULD HAVE ROMANCE.”

Wow. I think I just summed up my blog (and my life) in three sentences. I feel weirdly satisfied. And also kind of empty. I should probably eat a cupcake.

Um … what was I saying? Oh, yes. Group travel.

There are times when someone has to pee. And they will often hand their possessions over to you before they head out in search of a bathroom (though there might be a rare breed that likes to take the camera into the toilet with them. And really, who I am to judge? KEEP THE MAGIC ALIVE HOWEVER YOU CAN, KIDS.)

I know that whenever someone has handed me their digital camera, I guard it carefully. And then I take a few photos of the inside of my nose, or possibly my butt. So that the person knows that I care.

Our friend Joanna ran to get a cappuccino while we waited in line at the Sagrada Familia. She came back to this beauty on her phone. (Also, several butt photos, too.)

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I thought that this idea was clever and original, until it happened to me.

During our Africa trip, I went to the bathroom, and left my camera with Rand’s coworkers. Later, when I went through my photos, I found this:

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And this …

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And also this …

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They go on for quite a while, actually. So I made a gif of them.

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(I like it because of the subtlety.)

Of course, now that I’m on the receiving end of this sort of thing, my opinion has changed slightly. I still find that this is an incredibly clever and original idea.

But only when *I* do it.

Honestly, making a spot off-limits to humans is tempting enough. But declaring it “Penguins Only”? THAT IS WHERE I WANT TO BE.

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And seriously? I can’t throw stones?

I have avoided living in glass houses for YEARS, so that when the opportunity to throw stones presented itself, I could take it.

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But this one might be the worst …

Seriously? I can’t ride the rhino? Why don’t I just lay down and die?

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Really, South Africa, you are super duper lucky that you were awesome in every other respect. Otherwise, we might have a problem.

Street crossing in Downtown Milwaukee.

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The main drawback of communicating mostly through sarcasm (if, indeed, there is any) is this: on the rare occasion when you are sincere, people don’t believe you. They think you are being a snide jerk, and the more you try to convince them otherwise, the worse it gets.

This happened time and again whenever someone asked me what I thought of Wisconsin (and of Milwaukee and Green Bay and the stretch of highway in between).

I answered them honestly. I loved it.

They stared blankly at me.

“Seriously?” they say, hoping for some haughty reply, a cheeky revelation, a well-placed put-down.

Instead, they got this: “Yes, seriously.”

I loved it all. I loved the people and the food and the atmosphere. At some point, I screamed it to Rand.

“This place is amazing. The people are friendly and there’s lots of great bars and EVERYONE IS A PACKERS FAN. We have to move here, immediately.”

He agreed with most of my sentiments, but wasn’t so keen on the last bit. Even if it did mean he could watch every Green Bay game surrounded by a sea of fellow fans.

Clearly, everyone needs a little more convincing when it comes to Wisconsin’s awesomeness. These pictures from our trip should do the trick.

1. Getting my ducks in a row. Riverwalk, Milwaukee.
   

   Note: Running after them while screaming, “DUCKIES!” will not, as I had previously thought, make you look like a total badass.

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2. Milwaukee Public Market sign at dusk. (Is it just me, or does the sign look kind of familiar?)
   

   Of course, they have the good sense to put their market indoors …

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3. Window display on the Comet Cafe, Milwaukee.
   

   I concur.

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4. Chalk art in the Historic Third Ward, Milwaukee.
   

   What is it about fictional-witch homicide that’s so hilarious?

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5. A throne fit for a Rand. Mader’s German Restaurant, Milwaukee.
   

   Now he knows what it’s like for us short gals.

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6. Old facades, downtown Milwaukee.-
7. Quadracci Pavilion, Milwaukee Art Museum. -
8. Old Pabst Brewery Sign, downtown Milwaukee. -
9. High Life Cruiser, Miller Brewery.
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10. Exit sign for Waldo, Wisconsin(pop. 503)
    

    “Oh my god. Rand, WE FOUND HIM!”

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11. Sunset, as seen driving back from Green Bay to Milwaukee.
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12. At Lambeau Field, Green Bay.-