(July 10, 2015) The canal town charmed. It’s narrow stone alleys delivered commerce to buildings long architecturally forgotten. Period men in conical hats propelled their boat oars with a nifty hand twist. Atmosphere drizzled. The locals had long ago tuned into all this. All was on our offer. All at half price. In the fish nibble foot massage tanks two fish died after consuming toxic detritus under my toenail.

Foot Massage

Enough, for me anyway. “Come on Fly.”

“Where we going?”

“Left.”

I picked a pathway heading away from the canals. With strides tourism snapped back at the end of its leash. Life returned unprettily. Building techniques declined. Chickens. Laundry. “Daddy what are we looking for?”

“I don’t know.”

“Then how we are we going to find it?”

“I’ve been trying to figure that out for a long time.”

A pause. Quiet. Then she reached for my hand. I took hers. And we kept going.

“Where are we going, Daddy?”