I’m in Montreal, Canada, waiting by the baggage carousel at the international airport, or as they would say here, L’aéroport international. I’ve just arrived from London, England, and ordinarily I might be tired after chasing the setting sun across the north Atlantic ocean, but not today. As I watch the bags trundle out of the depths onto the slow conveyor belt, I’m full of energy and excitement. I’m back on the trail, and back in travel mode.
Hauling my heavy bag has been exhausting at times. From bus stops, to train stations, taxi ranks to airports, the bag bears the scars of the rough roads and taxing terrains it’s seen. But today I’m pleased to claim my baggage and pull it behind me once again. It’s not easy living out of a suit case, but you know, I’m not ready to put my socks in a sock draw just yet.