How to start? Cliché, cliché, cliché, is all I can think of. So I’ll just say it. A few days ago my dog died. And I’m devastated.
Business class… it’s a magical place that we all dream of, but rarely get to experience. When I arrived in Australia on my last trip, I excitedly checked my frequent flier miles, knowing that I would (hopefully) have enough to upgrade one of my flights home.
I was 625 miles short.
Disappointed doesn’t even describe it.
None of which, by the way, I saw on my recent trip to Australia.
I hadn’t meant to go back to Oz at the end of the year, but with hubby’s new job, I suddenly found myself a-flush with more leave than him, and we decided it was a good chance for me to take the trip on my own.
So off I tripped… for a whole month… just cause I could.
One regretful random afternoon in Austria, hubby and I were out shopping and decided to nick in to one of the many supermarket cafes they have here. I won’t say anything bad about these places – they have good, standard fare, it’s generally cheap, and they almost always have a salad bar – man I love Austrian salad bars!
But on this particular day, when I was pondering what to order, hubby made a suggestion for me – Herrengoulasch. Sounds interesting, methinks, so that’s what I went with.
Here’s what I got: