Susan Munroe

There I was, leaning against the wall of the Grant Village Campground bathroom, mechanically shoveling warm oatmeal into my mouth, absently re-reading the campground recycling guidelines for the thirty-seventh time.  Rain hammered on the roof and dripped noisily off the gutters onto the pavement outside.  The bathroom was the only place where I could cook [...]

“Kelli and Susan drove down state highway 47, looking out the windows at volcanoes and eating chocolates while listening to Flogging Molly,” Kelli narrated. “Fear and Loathing has nothing on us!” I returned. “Except hallucinogenics.” It’s a whole new phase of my NZ experience – Kelli Time!  It’s strange to me: here I am, back [...]

Today I have spoken more words than I have uttered in the last month.  My throat is dry, my tongue and mouth are tired, but I am out of my head – I have rejoined humanity and am relearning the finer points of human communication.  I’m on the North Island: this bustling metropolis of an [...]

…I find my way out of the rain forest!  Has it really been a month?  Can I blame the delay in updates on my freezer-burned brain?  Apologies, faithful readers.  Writing, as of late, has felt more like work than play, and after six months as an Antarctic galley slave, I’m all about play.  This is [...]

Several songs come to mind at this point… “…just spent six months in a leaky boat” “…we all live in a yellow submarine” My boat isn’t a submarine (though it is painted yellow), and whether it’s leaky or not I can’t say, as it’s in permanent dry dock on top of a hill, but it’s my [...]