I made it to Berlin. Thursday night I came home from dinner, kneeled beside my suitcase, laid my head inside and cried.
I wasn't sad to go. It wasn't Toronto. It was the weight of everything. The reality that here I was packing my bags again at a time where I thought I would be settling into a completely different life.
Friday it all started to make sense and I found a new lightness as I said my goodbyes, made one last long commute to work, and eventually made it to the airport with my best friend.
The stars were in my favour, and thanks to my brother found myself flying business with a luxurious seat that allowed me to sleep a few hours on the way to London while feeling incredibly blessed.
I made it to Berlin yesterday afternoon and we celebrated with Champagne, burgers, cocktails and live jazz at our favourite bar.
It feels so right to be here. What a great start.
Flying in style, cappucinos at Heathrow, South Sides at Pauly Saal, gluten-free burgers topped with spicy Jalapeno chips and aged cheddar, Shar gluten-free shopping spree