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Trip Start Jul 27, 2000
Trip End Aug 17, 2000

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Flag of Canada  , Ontario,
Friday, August 18, 2000


"An arm? A leg? Oh, god... what have they done to Don!" I said, realizing now that I was talking to myself.




This is it... Ottawa... unpacked... clean... shaven... Ahhhhh... This last entry covers the European excursion after math...

For thsoe of you who have been following along the trip. We added a Paris entry which wasn't sent out, so you may want to go to the previous entry before reading this one.


-- "Doctor... be honest... will he make it?"

"PARCEL IS WATING TO BE PICKED UP AT ..." read the little blue card on top of my stack of back logged mail.

"Yay! The Budapest postal service does it again ... " I though to myself as I breathed a sigh of relief

But just then, I had a flash back of the Hungarian postal agent violently scratching red ink over the word "FRAGILE" from the top, bottom and side of the box which I had packed my beloved ( and rather expensive ) hand crafted marionette into for its long journey back home to Canada before he tossed it into a heap of sturdy looking boxes.

"Nemenemenemenem" he said as he pointed to a chart which listed the available services, a "FRAGILE service" wasn't listed.

"That's ok..." I reassured myself, after all the puppet was Don Quijote. A knight! Solid and robust but unfortunately, made of wood ( wood is flexible right? :) ). I crossed my fingers and hoped for the best. Now a week later, here it was, the little blue notice that Don ( first name basis now ) had made it back to Canada, but in how many pieces?

Snatching my drivers license and the postal note from what looked like my apartment but it was hard to tell with the contents of half of my rucksack unpacked and spread out all over the place. I rushed off to the post office like a crazed lunatic.


Tattered edges, cover half opened, cardboard completely wrinkled, contorted and torn, the box didn't look too promising. I carefully carried the box home in my arms like a wounded soldier. Carefully laying the box down on the kitchen table I reached for a steak knife. I don't think I had ever opened a box that slowly in my life. Delicately cutting at edges, slicing tape and pulling at packing paper like a surgeon performing open heart surgery I saw something which made my heart stop for a second... broken wood.

"An arm? A leg? Oh, god... what have they done to Don!" I said, realizing now that I was talking to myself.

Expecting to find a pile of mangled wooden body parts beneath the mound of paper left in the box I continued to forge ahead. Buried, tangled and tattered, there was Don, the trooper that he was, body intact, with minor flesh wounds ( yay ).

With an expression on his face which seemed to say "What the hell were you thinking... they said NO FRAGILE!" Don had survived the flight home with only a broken shield and helmet.

A little white glue surgery in a dimly lit kitchen and Don was back to normal.

-- "That's all folks!"

Well that's it... the trip is over. Considering the broken vehicles, double price tour tickets and having breakfast in insanely expensive restaurants, this trip wasn't quite as cheap as we thought it would be... but worth every penny of course! To top it all off... we both have a cold and Poison Ivy... Talk about post-trip blues!

I read a long time ago never to return from a trip without knowing where your next trip will take you, not wanting to break tradition, aside from a short trip to the clinic for this damn poison ivy, we are planning a driving trip to the Maritimes in Eastern Canada next summer. You can be sure that we'll be TravelPod'ing it then too so I guess this is goodbye for now and we'll see you again next summer!

Itchy, congested and jet lagged,

Luc and Julie.
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