Dancing with pick-up partner, “Billie from Belfast”, to the throbbing, rhythmic blues of Wolfie Witcher and his Brew, in Camdentown, I was in full-blown, dirty-dancing heaven. Squeezed, like on a spawning salmon ladder, we flowed up onto chairs, then easily ONTO the table, never missing a beat, frenzied. The burly bouncer politely requested that we, “Please dance on the chairs, not on the tables.” My daughter’s partner, impressed, shouted, "Who's your chum?" She shouted, "It's my MUM!" Stopped him cold in his tracks! His “mum”, apparently, was home baking biscuits! I'd love to see the band again, and “Billie”.
Nancy’s travels are never heavily goal-centered, but always journeys to enjoy what may come to her along her meanderings. Yes, she has a vague itinerary and tickets to and fro, but her only purpose is to be just where she is, and to soak the beauty and remarkable in ordinary life. She doesn’t do packaged tours well, nor have energy in tromping hither and yon. She trusts her hosts will simply show her what they love about their homeland. She is happy to just sit in a café and people watch and dive into conversations with strangers, who often become friends. She is easily amused, and finds little stories discover her everywhere she goes. Keeping her senses attuned to the now, adds to her contentment with the extra-ordinary in the everyday.