It’s weird to be a travel blogger who doesn’t travel.
Actually, I don’t actually know if I can call myself a travel blogger anymore, but what’s the alternative? If I just say “blogger” without that key little word prefacing it all, it feels like I might unravel like a sweater. A blogger? No. That’s not a thing. That’s some who is simultaneously a thousand years old and also unemployed. That’s profoundly stupid.
I will put a pin in that existential crisis and revisit it later.
Last week, Rand took me to Canada. It’s not far – a three hour drive to Vancouver, closer than Portland, but in the opposite direction. From there we took the ferry to Victoria. It was our anniversary, it was my birthday, it was the first time we’d left the country in more than two years, it was so many things. The border had only recently