Ever the intrepid writer, I'm writing this on my PalmPilot because for the next week, I will be nowhere near a computer. Scratch that, I will be near computers. Only not computers that actually have enough horsepower to so much as post an update to my blog.
So I'll use my Palm with its foldable keyboard - best 40 bucks I ever spent - and log everything while I'm away, then blast it into the blog when I get back. Man, isn't this technology great?
Speaking of which, the whole idea of taking a vacation is to get away from the stresses of everyday life. To that end, the watch is already off my wrist, replaced by a camp-like chain of colorful beads that was a family Sunday craft with our kids. I hope to spend a relaxing week with parents and in-laws in Montreal, about 730 km east of our transplanted hometown of London.
I tucked my bike into the back of the minivan, and will be taking it on as many early-morning epic adventures as my wife will let me get away with. I intend to bring my camera along so I can take travelogue-like pictures of my beat-up wheels in whatever weird place I end up. I will sit on top of the mountain - Mount Royal for those of you who know the city - and contemplate the meaning of life. Douglas Adams said it was 42. I'm inclined to agree.
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