I haven't mentioned it to many people, but I am going to Ukraine. In a week from today, I will start the 18 hour journey to the other side of the ocean where there aren't clean toilets in public places. Oh, and my father lives there.
I have never been to Europe. Trust that the first time I go isn't even to the cool part. I'm going to Ukraine. Home of the perogy (which I can't eat anymore) and my dad. He's been there for 3 years and I thought it was time to go see him. My sister planned her trip first and made me seriously consider going. I mean, it's better to go to a strange place when someone else will be there to make it easier.
I don't travel well. I inherited my mother's love of being at home. In my house. Really, truthfully, if I didn't have to leave my house to go to work I wouldn't. I get homesick still if I'm gone for more than a few days and I miss my dog dreadfully. Not to mention my husband! We were apart for 8 days when I went to go visit Ky inn February and we didn't like that one bit. Now I'm gone for 2 weeks!
I am really excited to see my dad. I want to visit his village and see his house and the neighbours he talks about all the time. I want to meet his granddaughter, Masha, who has stolen his heart and meet his wife's sons who have taken Dad as one of their own. I want to play with his dogs and walk along his walking path. I want to be in their home.
But holy crap do I wish it was somewhere I didn't have to go through New York airport to see.