In Provincetown again

Yup. It's a cliche, but she says it's like she never left. Whatever. I could say the same, I guess. This year, it's a little warmer than last year, and so she's put me in the flowerpot to make up for the endless hours in the sock that I had to endure to get here. Regular readers may be interested in the sock. It was black. Newish. Clean. Intact. i.e. not very interesting. Here's me in the flowerpot beside her front door. I'm the colourful little thing you can just see if you have super powers in the vision department. No really, she cares. I know she does.

The trip here was long, as you'd expect. 14 ish hours to Los Angeles then an hour and a half in line to get the passport stamped. I am not kidding. Shockin' Then a sprint to the domestic gates at the terminal, and a 5 hour flight to New York. Leonie had booked us into a nice hotel in New York... Mmmm... Here it is...





New York was... interesting. She left me in the hotel room at about 8:00 pm and came back at Midnight a little the worse for wear, and was very very ill from about 5 am until she had to get the train at Penn Station (3 ish blocks away) at 1:00 pm the next day. Maybe a recurrence of that tummy bug she had? Maybe something else? She has her theories. Some of you will have heard them. 'nuff said.


Anyway, the train trip was nice. She spent most of the four hours with her head on her back pack, trying not to throw up. Good company, I don't need to tell you. Here's a view out the train window.