Not too many posts this month due to not one, but TWO lengthy vacations to Greece and Boston. For those of you who are frequent travellers, I have no idea how you do it. After just four flights within a two-week span, I never want to see another airport again. Nine hours on a cross-Atlantic flight almost ruined my back, and my sanity was nearly destroyed following 90 minutes sitting in front of the world’s two most obnoxious children on the way back from Boston. Other silly observations from both trips….
* while driving back to Athens from the lovely little resort village of Monemvasia, I noticed a real peculiarity once we hit the 100-km mark outside of town. Along certain sections of the highway to Athens, they had road markers that literally counted things down every 1/10th of a click. For a good five kilometres, all you saw were signs that read “A 97.5,” then “A 97.4,” then “A 97.3” until the road became a bit less developed. The signs then picked back up again around the 60-km mark.
This was bizarre. Why bother counting down such minuscule parts of the distance? Athens is impressive enough that it doesn’t need this drumroll of a road posting system. I don’t want to draw a straight line from overspending on needless highway signs to the failing Greek economy, but it’s so, so easy.
* since I developed a massive blister on my foot literally a couple of hours after arriving in Boston (Mark hates walking! Why can’t society, as a whole, agree to just install moving sidewalks in all major cities?), I found myself taking a lot of taxis around town. On three different occasions during a mere five-day trip, a cab driver (completely unprovoked) brought up the Tom Brady suspension and began to rant about the unfairness of the whole thing. Needless to say, Bostonians are taking Brady’s side. I had half a mind to see just how six-degrees-of-Kevin-Bacon I could get with this thing to try to get a cabbie to eventually tie things back around to Brady.
“So, who’s your favourite Venezuelan poet?”
“I dunno, I’m nawt a big reader, unlike how Tawhm Brady can read a defense like the back of his hand. He didn’t need any deflated footballs, the Pats were crushing the Colts anyway! It’s absuhd!”
* while driving back to Athens from the lovely little resort village of Monemvasia, I noticed a real peculiarity once we hit the 100-km mark outside of town. Along certain sections of the highway to Athens, they had road markers that literally counted things down every 1/10th of a click. For a good five kilometres, all you saw were signs that read “A 97.5,” then “A 97.4,” then “A 97.3” until the road became a bit less developed. The signs then picked back up again around the 60-km mark.
This was bizarre. Why bother counting down such minuscule parts of the distance? Athens is impressive enough that it doesn’t need this drumroll of a road posting system. I don’t want to draw a straight line from overspending on needless highway signs to the failing Greek economy, but it’s so, so easy.
* since I developed a massive blister on my foot literally a couple of hours after arriving in Boston (Mark hates walking! Why can’t society, as a whole, agree to just install moving sidewalks in all major cities?), I found myself taking a lot of taxis around town. On three different occasions during a mere five-day trip, a cab driver (completely unprovoked) brought up the Tom Brady suspension and began to rant about the unfairness of the whole thing. Needless to say, Bostonians are taking Brady’s side. I had half a mind to see just how six-degrees-of-Kevin-Bacon I could get with this thing to try to get a cabbie to eventually tie things back around to Brady.
“So, who’s your favourite Venezuelan poet?”
“I dunno, I’m nawt a big reader, unlike how Tawhm Brady can read a defense like the back of his hand. He didn’t need any deflated footballs, the Pats were crushing the Colts anyway! It’s absuhd!”
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