The two hour drive south to San Diego has become so easy, I find myself asking “Can we move here?”
And you, Santa Barbara – with your perfectly-spaced palm trees, stucco public spaces and pervading smell of fresh bread – you make me feel contentment.
I imagine giants above us, and stare up the narrow cliff sides as if up their bare legs; for the mountains of rock debris could be some fantastical gate destroyed by enormous hands.
Gone are the rowdy days of Arrowtown’s mining past. The footsteps of frantic gold hunters have faded into the gentle patter of families with prams; espresso has replaced moonshine as […]
…the third period of Queenstown has been a two-week vacation, extended into seven. But, no matter how long I stay or how often I leave, always those snowy peaks await my return.