I’ve been thinking about the frustration I often feel after travel. You can never share the profoundness of the travel experience with people who were not there, but still we try.
I was in Nova Scotia last week. Cape Breton, to be more precise—the distinction is important. We were there with Bryan’s family, celebrating his nanny’s [1] life and reconnecting with each other. It was a week that none of us will forget. Cameras always disappoint at times like this; all of the pictures I took on the trip seem flat and empty compared to the experience.
Cape Breton is a magical island that I hope to return to soon. We spent most of our time in and around Cape Breton Highlands Nation Park, which is just insanely beautiful. The landscape was rejuvenating.
I’d like to connect this back to food, but I can’t. We had some good food on the trip: lobsters and oysters fresh from the water, a warm slice of cinnamon bread, pickle-flavored potato chips. But that all seems beside the point.
Back in Chicago it feels like we are in the home stretch of summer. We’re making the most of these last few weeks before that chill creeps into the morning air and you feel like high school.