Home.

And so our adventure must come to an end. As I write this, I am high above the Atlantic on our flight from Paris to Boston. We were much delayed - sat on the plane on the tarmac for 2.5 hours - and I joked to Nate that it was the universe conspiring to keep us from getting home. When we arrived in Paris we actually discussed (only somewhat in jest) what would happen if we simply didn't get on the plane. Could we find jobs here? Could our stuff be sent over? Could we sell our house? How long would work keep paying us? (The critical question.) Now, as we sit through the final hours of our last flight, we've accepted that it's time to come home.

Home: where people have covered for us at work and taken care of our house. (Thank you!) Where we speak the language and can navigate without a map. Where (hopefully) summer is here and we can enjoy being outside in Boston. Where we can savor the little things we've come to miss like our own bed, drinking tap water and having access to a washing machine. Home is a good thing.

I've been very tuned in to the greater lessons to be learned on this trip. It was about so much more than just sight-seeing, although we saw some incredible sights. The trick now is holding on to this travel mentality: being patient, taking each day as it comes and greeting it with joy, really looking at the world around me instead of just rushing through and being aware of how lucky I am to go through life with Nate by my side. It's been incredible - hope you all enjoyed the ride. Thanks for reading.