In the lead up to Christmas, I sold the car, threw out and organized, booked my hotel and hire car, and hired movers. In the hours before Gemma’s parents arrived for the holidays from Barcelona, I called her at work requesting clearance to redecorate the tree.
"But I like the way the tree looks!" Gemma didn't mind the Special K 'star' with snorkel mask and beer can ornaments left by our guests.
"Ok, but your parents are coming tonight. Are you sure?"
Gemma changed her tune, and I bought proper decorations to redeem the tree.
The following days were stressful with the move, but fun around the apartment. Gemma’s mom made us authentic seafood paella, we had wine and tortilla over lunch, and I fumbled with my Spanish. I cooked shrimp ‘n grits for Christmas Eve dinner (with real grits from Piggly Wiggly). We exchanged gifts, and Gemma gave me my first map and travel guide to Australia.
I should mention it became a Shrimp ‘n Grits Christmas. I cooked a heap more after church on Christmas for our big church gatherinig, and it was cleaned out. I am doing my part to spread the grits gospel across oceans and language barriers. Photos from Christmas day:
Zach shows me the ornaments he's made
Bracing for the Christmas night cooking, David relaxes on the balcony
After Christmas, Gemma organized a final desert trip for us with ‘Macho.’ Macho is from Zanzibar and is famous for taking out our coworkers back in 2006 before I arrived, when they rolled a Landcruiser while sliding down the dune. Luckily we didn't have the same misfortune. Below are some photos of our trip:
I knew there'd be plenty of desert and camels to see in Australia (Australia exports camels to the UAE, I hear), but it was sentimental going out one last time. Amidst the dense network of tire tracks and heaps of litter, it feels like the dunes carry a sort of shame and helplessness. They silently cry out for rescue from their entitled guests. Despite that, the quiet sands are a welcome change from the concrete jungle.
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