Our Anniversary: 4 years and Lovin' it

Monastir, Tunisia
July 1, 2014

Happy Anniversary Branko!  Thank you, for everything.

Here I sit in Tunisia,  four years after leaving Toronto.   As Nadia says, "we went straight and returned in a week,  you turned left and have yet to return."  and now we are in Africa.
That left hand turn was a doozy.

Memories of Charlie and Peg, setting off with us for the first 3 days' adventure.  Fireworks at anchor, drifting down the lake (our anchor had let go) having coffee and marveling at the passing landscape, and laughing.  As these years pass,  I still remember fondly and vividly this particular trip, which remains close to my heart.

I reflect, at how time has slowed down.  Although, surprised that 4 years have passed so quickly,  I appreciate the fullness of this life which marks each day as an individual experience.  A tally of new places, people and knowledge that I feel would have taken my entire lifetime to amass.
One common thread however, in all the travelling is the wonderment, kindness and generosity of people worldwide,  other cruisers, friends of friends, locals, children and new family.  Regardless of language and cultural differences,  people have been my greatest joy.

From Richard and Diane in Quebec, to Geri and Alan in Bahamas, Yoshi and Fumi in the Azores, Conchi, Lidia and the Almerimar/Murgiverde team in Spain, Branko's Croatian family, Katie, Tim, Molly and Louie in Montenegro, Lazy Bones - Jeff and Gayle,  Marina di Ragusa group (so many special people) and recently new friends here in Tunisia, and so many more people I have yet to list.
Of course the adventures we are having mean little, without our good friends and family in Canada, who will always be with us no matter where we go.  

Thank you all for making life so wonderful.

Maggie (Margaret)

Tunisia, 2014

Happy anniversary, Maggie.  Thanks for helping make it all happen.

As I sit here this morning, the eve of our fourth anniversary of our departure from Canada, singing and playing guitar while hiding from the blast-furnace winds that seem to blow directly from the blazing African sun, I hear the call to prayer from the mosque here in Monastir.  Ramadan has begun in Tunisia, the holy month for Muslims when they abstain from any nourishment and sex during the daylight hours.  They are probably praying for the sun to set early.

Singing and playing guitar!  Did I just hear myself say that?  That's new.  I also hear languages being spoken.  From our Italian neighbors across the dock I can grasp the meaning of a few phrases thanks to our stay in Sicily; from the locals I hear Arabic and I will likely never understand any of it.  Tunisia is a former French colony and French is spoken here by many as a second language, so I have been trying to learn a little because it will also be useful elsewhere in the world.  There are, unfortunately, no Spaniards about and my Spanish is getting rusty, as is my Croatian now that we aren't there any longer. No worries, though, we'll be back in those places soon enough.

Abstaining!?  Nobody I know back home is doing any of that, unless they have to, nor are many of the hundreds of people that we met since leaving. But a few of the friends that we have made here probably are.  There certainly are a number of different ways to spend your life's time, and it certainly depends on where you are but, more importantly, on what you are.  Be rich or poor, be joyful or despondent, be healthy or unwell, be urbane or a hick, be in possession of things or having them repossessed, be hardworking or lazy, they all count if you make it count. The hard part is learning how.

Pardon my philosophizing, but for me it's now unavoidable.  Over the past four years I have spent my days beholding the beauty of nature and cowering from it, entering a new culture and trying to understand what makes people different and what makes them similar, reading of the history of the places that we visit, getting to know people like I have never wanted to before and just plain trying to understand them.  I am learning to count.

I know the times they are a'changin and I think to myself ... what a wonderful world ... as it drifts by our little boat.  I also know that it is we who might be wonderfully drifting, but a very wise man determined that it's all a matter of relativity.  It doesn't matter either way; because, it's the appreciation of the motion that counts.  Forgive me Mr. Einstein.

Branko