How did The Idiot, who spent a week in England in mid-November to celebrate King Charles’ 75th birthday (they’re the same age) and promote The Idiot and the Odyssey trilogy of travel narratives amidst a vastly premature Christmas atmosphere, cope with all of the hullaballoo?
How did The Idiot avoid seeing any people when he walked an average of seven miles a day in usually wet, chilly Paris in early November?
The Idiot just spent two weeks in Australia weighing an intriguing and lucrative offer by a corporate sponsor to spend the next seven years walking around the continent’s 60,000-kilometer (37,282 miles) coastline and writing a series of books about it.
The Idiot enjoyed the last days of sun-splashed summer and first day of leaf-falling autumn in Paris by fetching his grandchildren at school, continuing his 600-kilometer hike around the city, wandering through local parks, watching World Cup rugby games, swimming in the rain and celebrating family birthdays.
The Idiot has been co-hosting a ‘70 @ 75 party with 120 Stanford classmates (we graduated in 1970 and turned 75 this year) on Fallen Leaf Lake in California’s Sierra Nevada mountains.
Are you missing the raucous and ribald tales told by The Idiot during his twenty-year walk around the Mediterranean Sea?
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