Two Travel Tales
Today I will feature two Tales for Tuesday – because they’re both short.
The Time I was Smooshed By a Large Lady while Crash Landing in a Hot Air Balloon
When I was in third, maybe fourth grade, I went on a trip to Palm Springs, California, where we took a hot air balloon ride. I’m not exactly sure what happened (adult stuff I wasn’t privy too), but for some reason the pilot of the vessel decided to take us on a real ride, rather than just tethering us to the ground.
So, off we went across the California dessert . . . until we ran out of fuel. And then there was trouble. We started loosing altitude. We were so far out, and this was the days before cell phones or what not. There must have been a radio or walkie talkie or something, but all I know is we were far enough out into the desert that we weren’t going to make it back to the hotel. So instead, we braced for a crash landing.
And we crashed.
And the large lady fell on top of me and smooshed me, which was the scariest part of it all.
Then we had to wander around in the desert until we found a trailer house and borrowed their phone and then waited for an hour for someone to come pick us up. Good times.
In which I was Featured in A Norwegian Newspaper During the 1994 Winter Olympics.
When I was in 8th grade we went to Norway to watch the Winter Olympics, which were being held in Oslo. Oslo is a beautiful city, and the events were so exciting. But the greatest fun was the activities after the events. One such activity was when we went dog sledding across the Norwegian country side.
Each person rode with the driver, meaning you went by yourself on a little loop through the woods and open fields before returned back to the group where the next person got their turn.
As we came around the bend back to the group all I saw was bunch a people with cameras around their necks. So I blurted out (without thinking, which, unfortunately is just like me):
“Feel free to take my picture now!”
And it turns out one of the photographers worked for an Oslo newspaper, and my picture appeared the next day.
Oh, didn’t you know I’m an international super star?
I’m going to try and write down memories I have – for my little lovelies who always ask “Tell me a story of when you were a kid . . .”
I’m going to call them “Tales for Tuesdays” – and will try to write one a week . . . unless of course something else happens. In which case I won’t.