Can’t. Stop. Planning.

Confession: I may be one of those people.  You know.  The one who vacations with a detailed itinerary and a binder of reference materials so big that it needs an index?  That’s me.  Crazy Neurotic Travel Lady.

I will maintain that this is not because I am a complete control freak (yeah, maybe I’m delusional, too) but because I am so. stinking. excited.  And also because I’d like to have a reasonable level of confidence in what we’re seeing and where we’re going, instead of showing up at some miserable excuse for an attraction that features nothing more than one sickly lion in a cage and a few funhouse mirrors. 

So, I research.  Compulsively.

Yesterday, Lauren mentioned to me that she’d like to spend an afternoon shopping.

(Given our genetic makeup, we’ll spend more than just one afternoon shopping.  We are our Grandma Barb’s grandchildren and we’re damn proud of it.  XOXOX)

 Specifically, she was thinking of shopping for traditional African crafts, ceramics, jewelry.  The stuff that any respectable tourist brings home in his or her luggage.   

 I fire up the laptop.  I pull out the information on the shuttle services offered by our guest house. 

 Ten minutes later, we had a plan.  Well, I had a plan.  And Lauren had a whole new reason to think that I’m completely nuts.

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