antifreeze

it looks like I will be back in London during the Xmas break. Granted it'll just be for a short weekend, but this is still an occasion of momentous proportions. I'm so excited that I've already blown most of my tax refund on a winter coat, of which I'll have absolutely no use whatsoever in balmy Houston (high temperature today: 82°); I can't wait to have beer spilled on it at 2am in a semi-seedy Shoreditch pub. I think this is what they mean by Home Sweet Home.

rambling

Driving 1,000 miles in a 3-day weekend is a lot more fun than I thought it would be. Although an iPad with a 3G connection and an acceptance of one's place in nature do help a lot. Here are a few photographic testimonials from the road:

3+3+3

Labor Day Wkd - rooooaaaad trip

Labor Day 2010 from Matt on Vimeo.

jetting it

when the summer sucks as much as it does in this country, the only rational thing to do is to go to another one half a planet away, where it's the middle of winter. Australian winter that is. So after long months of never taking time off from work, the day is finally here. I'm leaving for three weeks, traveling in the Northen Territories and Western Australia, and ohboyicantwaititsgonnabeamazing.
Considering my very infrequent posting habits when I'm in Central London, I don't expect to do too much of it while traipsing around in the Bush. But I will be taking a ton of pictures, so that first post back should be a doozy.
So, off I go then. First up: the pool at Changi Airport in Singapore.

southward-bound

planning a trip to Australia, as easy as

1

2

3

Okay, not quite, but it definitely is a great excuse to enjoy a delicious nutella crepe from Crepe Affaire. Although nowhere near as delicious as the ones made by the French guy at Exmouth Market (and certainly not in the same universe of deliciousness as the ones made by my mom). Something tells me a lot more trip planning sessions are going to be necessary before this thing gets off the ground...

no chill pills necessary

30 seconds of live action from the petanque playground in Gruissan, southwest France

had a nice time

Dedicated to the fortress of suckitude that is Heathrow Airport. My dear, dear Gatwick, you were sorely missed. I promise not to be unfaithful anymore in the future (if I can, you know how these things work. It's not you, it's me).

Horace Greeley, this is for you

get on with it

It is midnight on Sunday, temperature is currently at 14° in London (and not a very warm 14°), pretty much the same it was two days ago when I left for work with a backpack, my camera and an empty memory card. Here are some images of what happened in between:

The weather wasn't the only thing cold and depressing about that morning in London. The news being unfortunately full of car-bombs and renewed terror alerts, my decision to go away for a couple of days seemed like an even better idea

Sitting on the Gatwick Express, mentally preparing myself for two grueling days off work.

The small HMV store in the departure terminal was nice enough to offer £5 PSP movies, and I promptly obliged. "Are you suggesting that coconuts migrate?"

"Hey, ho, let's go"

A nice view of Marseille from the plane. My uncle lives in the Luberon region, and I hadn't been there since he moved from Paris. My cousin now lives with him, and it was great to see her too.

Speaking of views, this was the one from my uncle's house. "Oh well, it'll have to do" thought I.

How to feel at home in 4.3 seconds.

A typical house in my uncle's village.

I got my first taste of the local lake, it was tremendously refreshing.

This little fella was chilling out in the lake, he didn't seem to mind my presence too much.

On Saturday morning I played my first game of tennis of the year, needless to say I was a tad rusty.

The lake was about 30 meters from the tennis courts. As Borat would say, "I liiike" (no, Borat jokes are still not played-out).

Apparently, when you leave your sunglasses and car keys on the roof of your car, you can look for them for 10 minutes in the trunk without figuring out where they are. Like mother, like son it seems.

La Tour D'Aigues' old castle, which burned during the revolution and was never rebuilt, although they renovated the old entrance, which dates from the mid-XVIth century.

Lakes are great and all, but if you're a water-enthusiast, the sea is where it's at. Although I'm partial to the Indian Ocean myself, the Mediterranean is pretty cool. Literally, since the water was at no more than 18° on that day. Which is where the 30° temperature comes in handy.

Not having been to this part of France before, it was nice to go on a small-scale pilgrimage of some of my dad's family history. This was the site of the house (Captain Obvious: now destroyed) where they lived for a year in the late 50s.

And the old Martigues cemetary, where ancestors on my (Italian) grandmother's side are buried

As always, the time to leave came all too soon, so back to Marseille it was. Which is where I learned that different countries have different items on their banned-from-airplane-cabins lists. In France, that includes spreads, which means I had to throw away a brand new mega-size jar of Nutella. It didn't put a damper on the weekend, but I did have to buy two packs of Regal'ad to make up for the emotional loss.

Oh, intermittently-functioning Tube system, I almost missed you.