After our big events on Saturday, Sunday was a very chill day as we headed back home. We grabbed our complimentary coffee from the bizarre espresso-dispensing machine at the Aloft (because I am a *gold* preferred guest – I could play it off like I’m better than you, but I’m pretty sure I earned that status as part of a promotion) and drove off into morning headed for apple orchards!
“You love me and I love photography and the best photography will happen at sunrise,” I told George’s unresponsive back at 6:30 in the morning. He wanted none of it, but I persevered and by 7:10 we were on the road to the balloon festival, as the sky shifted from dark to light blue. Excited, I gathered my camera gear and skipped off to the ticket counter. The lovely festival ticket-taker informed us that there would be no balloon launch until noon, due to the high winds. I looked at George with apologetic eyes. I got him up for nothing!
I’m a big traveler. It was always something I wanted to do – yearning to head out on the open road, eat foods I never heard of, see things that no one else had seen – and then I lived in Mexico for four months with no agenda but to learn the language. It really spoiled me for adventure because now I want more more more. That is to say, I like to take trips. This year, we’ve been a bit short on time and so haven’t had the chance to take what seems to be our standard one-week trip somewhere.