Simultaneously tempted into cereal-making but disheartened by the discovery we had since run out of corn flakes, I once again dropped the silver monster on the burner; this time to surprising effect.
One of the great things about being on vacation is the ability to follow research wherever it leads. Recently, that meant a lecture by a Nobel laureate and an article about the sex lives of mushrooms.
I figured if I'm going to do something slightly life-threatening, I might as well go big (with a place that has an excellent safety record).
I found myself sneaking through old churches and wandering woods, sipping tea from a handmade ceramic bowl from their gift shop as I lived out of a backpack. The experience was the stuff of stories, and it was glorious. In many ways, though, it also was not.
Then came the decision: how to get home.