Greetings from Cartagena, Colombia, where it’s 9:10am and–wait for it–plus-forty-four (as a reference point, it’s currently -2 in Calgary). Have you ever found yourself someplace and wondered, “How did I get here?” I’ve been wondering that off-and-on for much of the past week; then I woke up this morning in a bedroom overlooking the Caribbean Sea and realized, in case I actually needed reminding, that I really am living the good life. It’s been a chaotic week, during which I’ve accumulated over sixty hours of overtime. The reward is this weekend in Cartagena, part-resort town, part-historic city, and I’ll be exploring both halves in equal measure between now and Monday morning. Make no mistake: I will accomplish absolutely nothing this weekend, unless getting a tan in mid-March counts as an accomplishment (which, for someone who’s spent over three-quarters of his life either in Northwestern Ontario or Southern Alberta, it probably does). More later; for now, breakfast…and maybe a jetski.
The Good Life