Thanks to Mr. Trump's war and rising gas prices, I was goosed out of my normal lethargy when it comes to booking airplane tickets, and over the last few days I, yes, booked airplane tickets. In June, to Berlin and Oslo; in August, to Brazil.
It feels good to have that done.
It feels good, too, to have a respite from this benighted country to look forward to.
Not that I'll stop looking at the news, but still. Soon I'll have entirely new universes to explore. Berlin: WWII, the Cold War with its Wall, jazz clubs, walking in the Havelhöhenweg, and more. Oslo: spending time with family and revisiting favorite spots—the Vigeland sculpture park, the Fram polar exploration museum, the new library, the opera house . . . and more! Brazil: São Paulo and then the Pantanal.
Here are a few pictures of the Pantanal. It's a vast wetland I first heard about from a Brazilian fellow traveler in Botswana almost thirty years ago, and it's stuck in my head all this time. Lately, I see more and more stories about its diminishment due to climate change—fires, drought. I am crossing my fingers that this August will be a good season for seeing birds and wildlife—including giant river otters, giant anteaters, jaguars, yacaré caiman, hyacinth macaws, and 650 other bird species.
Humankind is destroying this planet. The government of the country I happen to live in doesn't seem to give a shit. I feel a need to visit the wondrous places while I still can—by which I mean both me, physically, while I can still move around; and while these places still exist, because they won't for long, at this rate.
I am looking forward to my travels. They help me stay buoyed up.
I despair for what the youngest generations will be coming up against. It won't be easy. Even if we have the most innovative, forward-thinking people in charge. Which recent votes have shown isn't particularly likely.
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