Map of France and our course of travel to the village of Les Salces.
Spring in Anchorage, Alaska is a lot like waking up hungover at a friend's house after a party. You're disorientated, covered in filth and smell like wet dog (you're friend doesn't even have a dog). You want to get up but you know that's impossible because the blare from the sun outside will burn a hole through your throbbing head. So you camp out on the sticky floor a bit longer until everything stops spinning.
But it keeps on spinning.
We've experienced Anchorage springtime for many years. This year we broke the snow record of more than 11 feet (hurray), which literally covered everything. Luckily we get to "rediscover" those buried things now that The Melt has begun. Why, just yesterday we came across five layers over dog poop, sixteen empty mini Smirnoff bottles and a dead dog.
This is about the time we like to leave Alaska altogether and let nature (aka the road cleaners) blast all the goop out of the way. This is why, in less than ten days, we'll be in France.
La vie sans Alaska Break Up, c' est la vie sans hangover.
A lovely collage done by Robert with actual pictures of Les Salces.
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