Originally Posted October 23, 2013

This post is in reference to a specific day, where I was forced to be creative, and say what I am about to say.  Unfortunately due to inclement weather it was tougher than leather to put any photographic memories together, so I had to adjust.  It was a must that I chronicle this journey, for although my photos had to suffer, the experience was worthy.  Therefore to remember this story, and I apologize it is for me, but I decided to write a poem. Now I can hear you begin to moan, but I beg you to bear with me, for I promise it will end in a jiffy.  Although meant as a personal memory, tis indeed a tale of treachery.  I simply needed to remember, so please put up with my blurbs.  And with that I present you The Climbing of Monchique, in the following words…

Originally Posted October 13, 2013

Dwindling days were comforted by the perfect pair of company.  A week of stargazing and star chasing, where hard work was revealed in the heart of a fellow gentleman.  But these three shant be shackled, and found themselves on a storied means of travel.  Delivered to a city in search of their legend.

Originally Posted September 23, 2013

It was only one year.  Yet a numerical value on time fails to recognize the weight of its value.  Therefore by definition, it was only one year, but when defining his life experiences, this particular one is a nominal value.  This word, ‘one’, with such lonely implications, singular, solitary, isolated, could not be further from the truth.  Both from companionship and introspection, this unique year was anything but lonesome.  In anticipation, it held the power to set the course for the years to follow.  In retrospect, it set the course for years to follow.  The groundwork had been laid through personal perseverance and understanding, but it was our traveler that found the world at his fingertips.  It was up to him to reach out and grab it.

Originally Posted September 12, 2013

Two years have passed and the unrelenting mistress of time has carried on.  People have changed.  Life has kept on.  Yet, during a year of study, beneath the mask of everyday life was a young man’s soul yearning to be set free.  A soul held dormant beneath the gravity of necessary sacrifice.  The only hint of truth existed in his eyes upon the horizon.  The open road a tantalizing invitation, but still a dangling carrot, a mirage of future endeavour.  Held by the chains of obligation, our hero was forced to acquire a very cumbersome piece of paper.  But this time was not wasted, o no.  This was an opportunity to look forward, to plan the pursuit of life, to seek inspiration.   Europe the destination, the means a mystery.  The clock ticked to the tune of textbooks and taboos.  As many a youth, the approaching conclusion was a relentless current as if on a helpless raft towards a waterfall mistaken for the end of the world.  But in this end was a silver lining.  It was only just the beginning.  It was the re-birth of The Traveling Gentleman.

Originally Posted June 6, 2011

Part 2

It has been two fantastic months of summer since my semester finished in April.  I have written about the first two weeks, but have yet to write updates on the other month and a half.  I knew I wanted to experience as much as I could of London before I went back to Canada and make the most of my time left.  I feel like I did just that.