Santa may not have found me (let's be honest, I haven't been a very good girl this year..) and I may not have been in the company of my blood relatives, but I still celebrated Christmas with my family - my Banff family, that is.
Sitting in the living room of my house, surrounded by snow and the people I have come to love and rely on, I could not have felt more blessed. It made me so aware of just how lucky I have been on my journey so far - to constantly be provided with health, safety and good company, no matter where I have found myself. Here I was, a million kilometres away from home, surrounded by twelve people who had all managed to meet each other in the same place, at the same time, for whatever reason and I never felt quite so at home.
In honour of the festive season, we cooked our friends an epic Christmas feast complete with cranberry sauce, baked potatoes, vegetables, gravy and a turkey - stuffed, basted and cooked by yours truly. That's right, not only did I put my hand up a raw turkey but I managed to cook the damn thing with out giving anyone food poisoning. This goes down as one of my greatest travel achievements thus far.
So, much to my relief, I didn't spend Christmas curled up in my bed, crying over my absence from my family and lamenting the delicious meal I know my mother would have cooked. I thought of them fondly, missed them as much as I could allow myself to and carried on celebrating my first white Christmas alongside our cardboard cut-out tree (we're travel junkies on a budget, after all).
Ciao for now.
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