Crikey! We’re Off to Portugal with Australians

When our son, Jake, was about 15, we sent him to CIT camp—counselors in training. It was supposed to be what the name implies, training young people to be camp counselors.

Six weeks later, we go to pick up our new counselor. As our car, along with a hundred others, creeps along  the campground’s narrow dirt road we see Jake far ahead skirting and dodging cars on the shoulder-less road waiving frantically for us to roll down the window. When we do we are confronted with Jake’s face spewing an Australian accent,

Mum, Mum! Please tell’im that yay and ay are from Australia and that ay was born in Melbourne…

Now is a good time to tell you Jake was raised in Oklahoma and generally says things like, “Y’all” and “Heck ya!” And neither of us has been to Australia.

Jake’s holding onto the car now as we continue to drive telling me he can’t quit this charade that has been going for the full six weeks because he can’t remember how to talk ‘merican. I’m mad but not too mad, I do love an Australian accent. 

On to present day. The Husband and I are just off our flight to Lisbon, Portugal. In about 24-hours, sixteen (mostly) strangers will converge for a golf trip throughout Portugal and Spain. They are predominantly Australian. Certainly, I will be reflecting upon my days in Melbourne with them. If all goes well, I’ll return from Portugal/Spain with an Aussie accent.

I hope you will follow my blog for the coming days as Pierman Paris becomes Pierman Portugal. Until then, 

Hooroo and Cheerio