The next day, Geoffrey and I borrowed a pair of bikes and cycled around Stanley Park. I've never touristed with my brother before, just the two of us. We stopped to take pictures of the seaplanes, the skyline, the bridge, the totem poles, and the cottage with a big colourful garden that Geoff declared to be Mom's House. I tossed sisterly abuse at him when he trailed behind me and my Vienna biking muscles on the uphills, and he made faces for my camera. We had a fantastic time. Even though She Who Gets Lost Even When All the Signs Are in English accidentally led us up two extra hills.
The next week flew by in a flurry of activity. I've never watched a wedding come together before. Holy hey does it require a lot of work. Finally, Saturday morning arrived, and with none of the promised rain. At about half past six, Kelly ran squealing down the hall to the room where I was staying and flung herself on my bed. So much excitement! It was going to be a magnificent day.
The bride was princessified.
After I arrived back in Vienna Tuesday night, an odd thing happened. I went to sleep - or tried to - as you do when you've just crossed a continent and a half plus an ocean. When I woke up a couple hours later, I had no idea where I was. Honestly, no idea. I was looking around the room and I knew it was familiar, but I couldn't figure out what country I was in or what city, whether I was home or away, whether I was dreaming of somewhere I'd previously lived. There was a feeling of panic and a feeling of guilt, like I should care enough about this place to recognise it right away, but man alive. I had no idea. Not sure whether I figured it out before falling back to sleep. I guess it's just something that happens when worlds collide.