Photographic Memories

This wasn't 'the' shot...

This wasn’t ‘the’ shot…

The funny thing about going on the trip of a lifetime is that it’s taken me longer to sort all the photos than we spent on the actual trip.

Also, it has finally dawned on me that we’re not being pestered by throngs of people demanding to see our holiday snaps.

I don’t think I’ve taken so many photos in such a short time, but the odd thing is, my favourite memories weren’t photographed, eg: watching clouds roll down a mountain in the Scottish highlands, the smell of the forest bordering a Swiss lake, the meal we had in a café in Munich, and the magical moment I was wrestling our hire car around some Godforsaken English village roundabout when Long Suffering Wife threw the GPS at me and yelled, “Well, you work out where we are then!”

For the record, I knew where we were; I just didn’t know which way to go.

Nor do I have photos of three Australians striking a blow for freedom in a Florence pay toilet, me getting ripped off in a museum, and how finding a single leather glove outside the Vatican nearly caused our tour group to wet their pants with laughter (well, you sort of had to be there…)

But my favourite memory was of a gondola ride in Venice, when I finally put down both my cameras, leaned back on Long Suffering Wife and simply soaked up the atmosphere. As the buildings floated by, one of the gondoliers started singing and the air was suddenly tinged with gold. It really was a beautiful and memorable moment that we’ll treasure forever.

Fortunately someone in a nearby boat took a photo of us; want to see it?

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