Rolling a boulder up hill

Not used to the gravity

My style of leisure travel is to walk everywhere I can. I see more of the destination, get a better ground-level feel for the place, benefit from the exercise, and save $$. Boston, New York, San Francisco, London, Paris: all big cities where if there were a map of my cumulative walks over the years, they’d be painted red. Those maps would fail to capture the fact that I’d have my backpack and maybe even a roller board suitcase in tow.

I probably pulled this shit with Jessica a few times, politely tolerated at first during the honeymoon phase, before she ended it. Permanently. I want to say it was at the Copenhagen train station, walking a few blocks to our hotel with 2 young children and all our luggage. Fair enough I suppose.

Harry doesn’t know any better than to just go with it. (Or, gawd help him, he’s like me!) I’ll take that as the best ever father’s day present. We slept 2 hours max on our red eye flight to Keflavik Sunday morning, then stayed awake walking around town, no napping, until 10pm. On Monday after a 12 hour sleep, we hiked our luggage over to the domestic airport, Harry pushing his suitcase up the hills. When he stumbled, and I went back to check on him, he had a grin on his face. “I’m just not used to the gravity here yet.”

We’ll be back to Reykjavik in a week.  Onward!

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