A Little Winter Weary...Already

This...

Or This...

I leave it for you to judge but in honor of today's continuing snow fall and my ever growing need to hibernate I give you White Bay Beach...also on Jost Van Dyke in the BVI...I can dream can't I? Is that so wrong?

Flyover Tube 3.0

Happy New Year Everyone!

Tidings of Comfort and Joy

Good Tidings

Possibly the gayest thing ever posted except for porn of course. And I do mean gay in all senses of the word.

Much Ado...

Given the usual level of panic that was inspired by local news teams last night in their weather casts on the "biggest snow of the season," you might believe that Armageddon was planned for this morning.

If it was...thankfully none ensued. This is the view out my office window. As you can see we just have more typical Chicago winter weather. Meh!!!

The Boys Go to Camp

OK. This is not going to be a travel blog either. In fact, I am not sure what kind of blog it is going to become but I have another tale to spin of a recent trip.

Picture it...last August, hot steamy Chicago and Mr. Billy was in the mood to plan a vacation. Well, it must be said that Mr. Billy is ALWAYS in the mood to plan a vacation. Anyway, I had already planned to tag along on Mr. B's business trip to London in November so I wasn't really planning on anything else for myself but he wanted a holiday (since he had to work in London) someplace warm in December. What he found surprised me.

Maho Bay Camps in St. John is an eco-tourism resort. Campers live in tents...well tree forts actually, the bathrooms and cold water showers are up the path and wildlife gets up-close and personal. I thought it was awesome but couldn't really afford another vacation. Billy decided to go on his own. This had me concerned as Mr. B had never camped and usually doesn't go for any kind of vacation without room service and a spa. Nevertheless he excitedly booked his trip.

I was jealous. I really wanted to go and when his Mom and Sister agreed to watch the dogs, I screamed with joy like a little girl and was able to book as well with the money we saved.

So last week off we went and it was the trip of a lifetime.

We'd been to the Caribbean many times before and loved it and had been to St. John on day snorkle trips but this would be the first time it would be our home base. I hate of use such a gay word but it was FAB-U-LOUS! (At least i didn't say faboo...right?)

The island has only two small towns and is two-thirds national park. It also has one of the best beaches in the world...Trunk Bay.

Anyhow, after our flight from Chicago, we arrived in St. Thomas, rented our Jeep (tres butch...right? Or maybe tres gay!) and proceeded to the car ferry to St. John.

Mr. B didn't put the Jeep into the drink trying to drive onto the ferry and our true adventure had officially begun. After the 30 minute ferry ride we arrived in Cruz bay, St. John, a colorful little town filled with friendly locals, shops, restaurants, condos and bars...lots of bars. After working our way slowly through town we were off on our way to Maho...about a 20 minute drive. The most twisting, turning, hilly 20 minutes you can imagine. In fact the last mile or two of road looked it had been carpet bombed by a B-52...but more on that later. Just after dark we arrived at camp.

After seeing the tent, I looked to Mr. B for his expression...fortunately he smiled...and we were off to the bar and ready to start an incredible week long adventure.

No One in Scotland Can Escape From the Past.

So finally back to the rest of the UK vacation pics. On Monday I left Mr. Billy working in London and borded the East Coast Express for Edinburgh. Let me first say that the US could do with a little bit of the high speed rail thing. The trip was easy, 5 hours up and 5 back which left me about 6 hours to tour the home of the Scots. The only incident was provided by a perfectly lovely woman who's face appears in the dictionary next to the phrase "Ugly American." She started the day by berating me for sitting too near her (this was immediately resolved) and then proceeded to in a loud voice inquire..."so how much did you pay for your ticket anyway cuz I am on a tour?" She then went on to tell everyone on the train that the Scots are completely ignorant for pronouncing their Capital city's name Edinboro since in America everyone knows it's really Edinberg. DEELITEFUL!

But I digress...My family originally comes from Scotland and though on this trip there wasn't enough time to look up any second cousins, etc. it was fascinating to see the land of my people.

Getting off the train at Edinburgh Waverly station I was immediately in love with the city. The Scott memorial rises above the streets surrounding the city on the bank of the long dry river that separates the old town and the new town.

One of the highlights of the day was the tour of Edingurgh Castle.

And finally what I really came to see...the Holyrood Palace and the glorious ruins of Holyrood Abby which I saw during a beautiful (and early) Scottish sunset.

Exhausted, I made my way back to Waverly Station for the long ride back to London, vowing that ifI ran into my loud traveling companion on the way back that I would mount a Jacobite Uprising of my own...I did and I did!

To all, to each, a fair good night, and pleasing dreams and slumbers light.

Sir Walter Scott