It's a contender, however I'm leaving in a week for a trip to Botswana. I've been before, but it's been a while. Watching the sun set on the baobabs from my rented 76-series Cruiser, poling tranquilly through the waters of the Okavango, and drinking Windhoek while watching big game congregate along the Chobe River might be more relaxing than anything I did in Kenya. I'm ready for it.
So, you're that asshole for whom the "departures" magazine American Express sends me is meant.
When I'm done healing up again, I want to hang out with you, instead. I'm done being sent places to do stuff. I want to choose where I go, and explore all the mysteries I had to pass up over the years. No more fighting, running, delivering, prospecting, negotiating... Just a fun vacation looking for weird shit in even weirder places.
I got so into trying to find those big snakes in the Tsavo area, but only had a day and a night to do it, in the end. Damn I was close to figuring it out, or at least thinking that I had; but the next day I got the message to head out. That shit happened constantly. I'm a geek, and I want to do geek stuff, but I never get to do it...
Cheers,
Kennith