Brilliant sunshine streams down outside and once again the sky is a brilliant blue. A perfect autumn morning for the drive back to Jakar however frosty is the only word that can describe the climate inside the vehicle. Mrs Cranky-pants has already hobbled her way into the car and sits on the right side, a bandaged ankle raised up and stretched out over the full length of the rear seat. Outside stands three sheepish looking chaps, all feeling seedy, one, very red-eyed and bushy-tongued indeed. It was a very long night with very little sleep.
I think I might just have to reassess part of my website title – Float-in Fumble-about Traveller - and rename it
"She’s a Travel Insurancer’s Nightmare!"
Today, as I was flicking through trips-of-the-past happy snaps I couldn’t help noticing there were a number of shots where I’m either wearing a moon boot, nursing a fat bloodied nose or looking a tad worse for wear thanks to ‘last night’s dinner’.
I’ll admit I’m a bit of a bumbler at times, but it’s dawned on me, when I travel, I don’t just have the occasional mishap,
I’m an accident prone disaster master.
A maestro of mischanter!
And it would appear that this is something I’m really good at.
Right from the very start when on our first trip, I kicked it all off by losing my eleven-year-old son one night in Nepal, and then got us kidnapped.
Yes, pretty sure that was what was happening.
There was machete and a gun. I’m just say’n. . .
Hello! I'm Kerry
. . . a plan-nothing, have no idea where I'm going travelholic.
A daughter of the gypsies and the wife of a workaholic, I'm forever wondering 'What's over there?' and devising ways to squeeze through the barbed-wire fence of small-business ownership responsibilities and every-day life tangles to discover it.
and this is my book.
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