Born in Canada in the 1970’s. Lived first part of life in Ontario, Canada.
Her parents did the splitsville thing when she was six months old and she has no recollection of this time. In the grand scheme of life, this time is not what is important. It wasn’t until about a year later that she realized she wasn’t like the other kids, they didn’t travel to visit their father on weekends or summer holidays. She did.
And so her early years of travel was the forty minute drive from one parents house to the other and back again. She clearly remember those drives with father, picking out landmarks to remind her that home is around the corner. Father would speak all he could about the surroundings while The Rolling Stones played in the old-squeaky Ford Bronco. Back and forth she went for sixteen years. She savoured every minute.
Her jet set life really began at the age of four, mother and step-father taking her to Cape Cod. Every year they would go, and every year, the same armoured suit man by the pool was standing stiff, and every year he scared the beejeez out of her; without fail, every year mother would snap her picture petrified with the iron man. One picture does exist somewhere … it’s locked in her memory.
It seems that life has always been about getting going. Where to next? Around the age of eight to twelve father took her on motorcycle tours through the city, as well as boat tours along the Niagara River as well as the beautiful Thousand Islands.
When she was sixteen, she and seven other girls drove to Daytona Beach! Oh what a shock! All the people traveling, partying, just having a great time. She couldn’t get enough and four years later she moved to Australia. And that’s where the real story begins…
She lived in Australia for eight months. Eight months of unadulterated bliss. Eight months of beach, bus, eat, beach, party, bus, beach, work, beach, bus, party. The life was great.
After Australia she followed her heart to England where she lived a month with her then bf and mothers dog. Jobs were hard to come by and she didn’t have the right paper-work in her passport. This was something she must fly back to Canada to finish. Another plane ticket, another eight hours in the air. She lived back in Canada for three months while waiting for the visa to come through. Finally with all the paper work signed and sealed in a few months and again she was back to England. But this time to a little tax-free island in the English Channel, Jersey. It’s closer to France but belongs to England. She lived on that moist rich island for eight months, and when she had had enough she flew the coup back to Canada.
She spent the following few years honing her skills as a super waitress and shit taker at many restaurants in the region.Born in Canada. Fled to Australia in 1997 for a year of life changing moments. In 1998 she stopped in Philippines for 10 days where she spent seven days lounging on an ity bity island called Boracay. After that brief stint she flew off to England and lived in Essex, some cockney slang anyone? She lived for two months with her then bf and his mother and dog. When she realized she couldn’t get a job with out the right papers she flew back to Canada.
The feet were starting to itch and she had to get out. She stared at the wall map and knew she wanted beach and hot. She settled on another tax-free paradise, Grand Cayman, Cayman Islands. Over the two years that she had lived in Cayman (and it’s always said with an air of sophistication or rather snobbishness) she met some life long friends and even her husband ( but they wouldn’t know that yet for another eight years). She danced and drank and sun bathed; She lived the life on a beautiful island, albeit working in a factory of a restaurant.In 2002 her sister had her first ray of sunshine and she returned to home soil to watch the little buttercup grow. The following six years were again spent honing skills as a master waitress in the larger scale corporation restaurants. She made killer money and was able to travel for weeks even months at a time.Her best friend and her spent a week in Cuba playing drunken chess, two weeks in Brazil trying to run from the stomach virus but were never fast enough, three weeks traveling in Europe where they hit such divine places as: Copenhagen, Denmark. Amsterdam, Holland. Paris, France. Santorini, Greece. Athens, Greece. Bergamo, Italy. Verona, Italy. Milan, Italy. And if that isn’t enough. She went to British Columbia and hung out with another great Canadian gal pal that she lived with in Cayman. Then a trip to California for some californication!
Just when she decided to chill at home (Canada) for sometime. Her future husband called, and now she calls Sardegna home.
If your still reading … great, thanks! Time to click here: La Mia Vita Sarda.