The Grand Journey Home

In our last few weeks, we made a list of friends to thank, and came up with 65. To each, we gave a ticket to the hot springs, and arranged to meet there Saturday afternoon. There is nothing quite like sinking into roasting hot water that is silky with minerals, palm trees above, friends all around, the mountains beyond reaching to the sky. Everything unimportant melts. Everything important comes into focus.

Our departure was Sunday morning. We tried to take a photo of all the friends who left us at the station, but they weren't their usual smiling selves...
The train pulled out from Taitung, the misty mountains on the right, the Pacific's turquoise waves crashing on the left and we studiously avoided touching the heart-area of our souls lest we start crying and not stop. It helped that Alison's father Norman arrived on Friday, to join us on our long journey home.


First stop: Kaoshiung. McKinley's beloved cello teacher met us at the train station, along with the pianist who is the best in all of Taiwan. These two saw us off at the airport.


On the plane, and off we went, across the China Sea to the land of Macau. Further adventures above - we'll sort them so you can read in order.