the wanderer

The beginning of my vacation started with two and a half hours of sleep.

Maybe it's just me, but trying to sleep before a trip is like trying to sleep on Christmas Eve. I had been working feverishly to get all my work done before I left, so my mind was still racing as I tried to force myself asleep. Didn't work, so when my alarm went off at 5, it took every once of my self control to not throw it out the window.

At the airport I met some friends who, by strange coincidence, were sharing my flight to Calgary on their way to Phoenix for a week of sun and golf. Also a good vacation, but I'm going away for a different purpose. Although I hope relaxation figures in strongly, I am in Toronto to indulge myself creatively by taking thousands of pictures in an interesting city.

I chose Toronto for a few reasons. First and foremost, my dear friend C lives here, and she has not stopped giving me grief for not visiting her since high school (in my defense, she spent much of the last ten years in Wales, Lebanon and Montreal). Secondly, I had visited Toronto once before, and although I really didn't like it at the time (in Toronto's defense, I was fifteen and traveling with my family), I felt as though both I and the city had changed enough that it was time to try again.

I landed on Ontarian soil with a slight bump, and taxied to the terminal. My bags were the first off the carousel, and I found C waiting for me past security, ready to introduce me to the Toronto Transit Commission.

6.5.08. No alterations.

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