Two hours to go. One hour and fifty-two minutes to be exact. But hey, who’s counting?
Thirty. What does it mean? Nothing much. I mean, 40’s my scary age. It’s the age I remember my parent’s being when I was little. Thirty? Well, thirty was the age of successful businessmen and women who had tons of money to spend on wine, houses and I don’t know… travel? With wine in hand, sitting inside a house I rent, looking forward to an upcoming weekend in Boston, I figure I’m on the right track, no? Well, that’s just the thing. I have absolutely no idea.
My twenties were about adventure. I traveled. I found love. I made wonderful mistakes, and then I learned from them and quickly moved on (from some more quickly than others). It was a time of excitement, a time of firsts, and probably a time of lasts as well – I’m getting too old for that kind of hangover. As the hours wind down though, I’m starting to wonder whether or not I’m ready to say goodbye to what might have been the most memorable years of my life. I mean, what can compare with an university exchange to Toulouse? A volunteer placement in Tanzania? A career as a varsity athlete? Albeit, all of that happened during my early twenties. During my late twenties, I met my husband under the full moon on a beach in Thailand, traveled solo throughout Asia, moved to Germany, got married and gave birth to a beautiful baby girl. Not too shabby. Continue reading
Last Friday, as the work day came to an end, I found myself once again romping around in my pyjamas, stuffing my face, and drinking oodles of delicious wine. I know, I know, sounds like pretty much every other night, right? Well, it was and it wasn’t. This time I wasn’t sitting on my couch with my hubby, sleeping baby upstairs, and remote in hand – I was at the 3rd annual Black and White PJ Party, held in support of the Milton District Hospital Foundation and surrounded by (this is the best part) 250 other women. One night of testosterone-free frivolity and an all-round wicked- fun time to be had.
Read the whole article at thehousemom.com!
It comes as no surprise that my favourite way to see a city is to get up at the crack of dawn and give it the runaround. There’s simply nothing quite like waking up alongside a city; whether it’s skirting around delivery vans dropping off fresh baked goods for the start of day, or darting businessmen and women hustling to get to work on time, taking an early-morning run while traveling is by far my favourite way to discover a city. You never know what you’ll see before the sun creeps up! Rising early to hit the pavement has led me to discover a Canadian cemetery in the North of Wales, and accidentally join a 5km while spending an anniversary weekend in Pittsburgh and been yelled at by a fellow hostel guest in Geneva who must have dreamed her alarm went off and blamed it on the early risers, or, I suppose I should say runners.
While I’ve had my fair share of fabulous runs to kick-start my travels around the world, here are my top 5! If you’re ever in the area, don’t miss out on the chance to take in the fresh air, the beautiful landscape and hit the ground running:
1. Stanley Park, Vancouver, B.C
Starting at Canada Place and ending at English Bay, the approximately 12 kilometer run through Stanley Park is the most amazing and memorable runs I have done to date (the fact that I ran it alongside one of my best friends was totally just the icing on the cake). Next to cyclists, joggers and walkers galore, you’ll weave in-between greenery set directly net to a never-ending coast-line in one of the most beautiful parks in the world. Check out more about Stanley Park and other things to see an do in Vancouver in my blog series on Beautiful British Columbia.
Categories: giraffe lifestyle, giraffe on the run, giraffe travel, the view from above, thetravelinggiraffe
Tags: British Columbia, Englischer Garten, English Garden, Florence, Germany, Hyde Park, International Volunteer, Italy, London, Munich, Ponte Vecchio, Richmond Park, runner, running, Stanley Park, tanzania, travel, Vancouver, women's health