Canary Islands; Paradise at Last

Its 4:30am and I hear the buzzer of my alarm ringing as I gradually arise from a sleep induced coma. Despite my general disdain towards being awoken for any reason aside of Christmas morning, I crawled out of bed (literally crawled) and mashed the start button on the coffee maker. While propping myself up against the living room table a sleepy sideways grin slid across my face...because on this morning, we're setting off for the Canary Islands.

Our plane lifted off from Charleroi Sud at 7:40am on a cold crisp morning. After spending four hours in the air listening to screaming infants triangulate my position and a Robert Barone (Everybody Loves Raymond) look alike flight attendant who couldn't speak a word of audible English to save his life, I was happy when the plane touched down in the sunny Canary Islands. A step onto the tarmac was essentially a rebirth from cold dismal Belgian climate. After instantly shedding my jacket, vest, overshirt, undershirt, scarf, and hat we jumped in a cab, and made our way to 'Playa de Palms' beach and hostel.

We checked in, dropped our bags, threw on some swim trunks, and made a mad dash for the beach. The sun was shinning, the air was warm, and it was humid (reminds me of home sweet home in Dixieland). I considered myself to be in paradise at this point. I'd been longing to be someplace remotely warm and sunny for weeks now and the time had finally come. Although you really don't appreciate it on a regular basis, the sun plays a major factor in a person's overall well being (as I've learned).

I crashed on a deserted stretch of sad and ended up sleeping in the sun for a couple hours. A perfect start to a great vacation.

Internet here is a bit dodgy but I'll do my best to update my happenings when I can. Wishing everyone the best!

All good; all the time,

Thomas