A Holiday

I remember a poem that goes;

We broke out of school with a terrible roar,

We couldn't have stood it for one minute more;

We dashed to the station after gobbling down tea,

For the train that would take us all down to the sea;

Did Grandma and Grandpa, Aunty Marvis and Bea,

Uncle Alec and baby and mommy and me.

It was more or less in that spirit that I packed my bags for the family holiday of the decade. Yes, the decade. To date we had not, as a family, ventured more than (don't laugh again Benjy !) 200km from home base - to Port Dickson, and to Genting Highlands. And here we are planning to go to Canada? It boggles the mind.

To be sure, its not the whole clan that is going. Grandma and Grandpa made the trip when they were younger, and just smile and make cryptic comments about airplanes when we ask. Aunty Marvis and Bea refuse to enter any vehicle that is destined to loose contact with Terra Firma, no matter in how controlled a fashion. That left Uncle Alec, who would bring the VISA and MASTER cards, baby, who isn't one (he's a strapping kid, for crying out loud), mommy, who is really driving the whole effort because she wants to visit Aunty-E over there (her sis), and me (baggage handler and pack mule).

This blog will be my record of my impressions. Names will be changed to protect the innocent. I am still leery of identity theft, so expect my specifics to be general, and my generalities to be obfuscations.
As I make more entries, I will upload the pictures related to the entries.