The Dreamliner, with its fancy gadgets and wireless Internet, got me back safely.
I wrote a little while I was away. After I hugged my friends goodbye and had time in the city by myself, I jotted down lines as I sat outside, drinking beer and people watching.
But now that I am back in Kuwait, reestablishing my routine, the words I scribbled down all seem trivial and rather pompous. (Having been reminded that actually, a person or two read my random thoughts and misadventures, and sometimes my drivel needs to be edited before it reaches the computer screen.) The words on that notepad don't matter anyway, they aren't the things I remember from my mini break in Munich (the beer has a lot to do with that), but the memories of good times with great friends are what last and what I will treasure. Them cheering me on during my race. Handing me a pretzel and a beer after I crossed the finish line. Us listening to Daft Punk recreated on a double bass and violin by Marienplatz and having a wee dance on the cobbled streets.
The three of us could have been anywhere at times. It didn't matter. Especially since we spoke a mixture of French and Spanish to the waitresses (when we weren't joking with them in English), forgetting where we were when we opened our mouths and not translating thoughts in time.
Munich just happened to be the backdrop of our weekend, beautiful as it was, it was more about the friends I was with.
It made me think about another trip to Europe sooner rather than later...
PS-The first photo is about 15km into the run. Look how excited I am to see my buddies! I think I cheered more than them! Scary!!
