Twelve Feet, Six Continents, One Year

To Plan or Not To Plan. This is my existential struggle. It is my tendency, which I attribute to genetics (“Hi dad! Hi mom!”), to want to have a daytrip planned to the hour if not the minute. This approach doesn’t suit my wife, though she might tolerate it, but it definitely doesn’t work with kids. It’s a life lesson that adults can be the skeleton but the skin is going to hang however the children decide it will. Rottnest Island is a 30-minute ferry ride from Fremantle, a coastal suburb of Perth 30 minutes from our house. From the guides and blogs and podcasts, I have known for months that this would be on our itinerary. I received a lot of advice that we should spend a night on the island in order to enjoy its tranquility in the evening after all the daytrippers departed.  In retrospect, I wish I had pulled the trigger on that plan because obviously it’s impossible to book a room for six on the island with little notice, especially on a holiday weekend. So that decis...

My kids will tell you that I am a "transportation expert" and so it has humbling to struggle with our means of getting from one place to another. Sunday required getting the six of us and our 14 pieces of luggage from our apartment in Buenos Aires to an apartment in Montevideo (Uruguay). We chose ferry over airplane and eventually succeeded in buying tickets online, not knowing (or having any hints) as to whether walk-up tickets could be available. As it turns out, the vessel was nearly empty. Another hall, another 14 pieces of luggage. We had to leave our apartment no later than 2pm but our ferry was not until 5. Because I haven't been able to decipher the transit system (rail, subway, a billion buses), we called the same shuttle company that brought us from the airport to the apartment upon arrival (at 1am, no less). But that time, our Spanish-speaking friend made the phone call when we failed to navigate their website for a reservation.  This time, taking a de...

Dear Reader, As long as I've known Elise, she has craved Big Water. Not the kind of big water I've heard surfers covet. You see, Elise grew up on Lake Superior, which has this massive effect on you simply because of its, well, mass. It evokes calm. No, it commands calm. For most of our 20 years together, we made frequent trips to where her late grandfather lived on Bainbridge Island, looking out on Agate Passage, which separates the island from the mainland Kitsap Peninsula. Elise always took a specific kind of deep breath whenever we arrived there. So now, here we are on the western side of Whidbey Island, near the town of Oak Harbor, facing another large body of water. If you've ever encountered Big Sky Country in Montana, presumably as a visitor, you probably know this feeling of awe. Whatever it is, Big Water means something special to Elise. Today was a good day. There was quiet reading on the sofa (quiet for us, the kids were wrecking havoc on the beach at low t...