Carnaval: Part 3 (That's A Wrap)

The apartment looked like a glitter bomb had gone off while we were still inside. 

Anything less and we were underdressed  (Carnaval 2018, Rio de Janeiro, Brazil ) 

Anything less and we were underdressed (Carnaval 2018, Rio de Janeiro, Brazil

We slept until midday then spent the afternoon cleaning. When that was done, we pulled our deflated packs out of the wardrobe and started packing, sliding our sequinned Carnaval costumes in amongst the new pairs of Havianas. 

It was hard to ween ourselves off the glitter, so we went out for dinner that night with glittery swirls finished in jewels extending from the corners of our eyes.  

All good things must come to an end, but the the menu at Zaza told us the future was open wide, so we were hopeful ( Zaza Bistro Tropical, Ipanema, Rio de Janeiro, Brazil )

All good things must come to an end, but the the menu at Zaza told us the future was open wide, so we were hopeful (Zaza Bistro Tropical, Ipanema, Rio de Janeiro, Brazil)

The small room that made up the second level of Zazá Bistrô Tropical was filled with low tables. We left our shoes at the entrance next to the sandals and dress shoes of the other diners, and sat down cross legged at the futons the waiter led us to. 

Over cocktails and tapioca wrapped sushi, we discussed our disbelief about flying out the next day.

We were still discussing it over the breakfast burritos our fast talking, dope smoking, chef-cum-Airbnb host cooked for us when we arrived in L.A. 

We talked about it some more while picking up a couple of milks from Moon Juice, and continued to chat about it over dinner at Cafe Gratitude that night. 

We forgot about it during the few hours we spent shopping on Santa Monica Boulevard that day. 

As much fun as it was to replace some much needed items (and come home without too much fear of being held in quarantine) it was sad to throw away old pieces. 

On the road, life is but a Wanderlust dream and your battered wardrobe is a part of that.

These shiny new replacements were like beacons of the looming reality that slaps you in the face with the first kiwi accent you hear on the plane (always followed by the thought “Is that what I sound like?”).

Welcome Home ( Papamoa Beach, North Island, New Zealand )

Welcome Home (Papamoa Beach, North Island, New Zealand)

Being greeted by our parents at arrivals never gets old even when we do. Instead of wondering where we were going to sleep that night, we were tucked away in our small corner of the world, ready for the start of a new beginning that has felt, at times, like waiting for the next instalment of Game of Thrones. 

Good thing we've got Hawaii to look forward too.