This year marks the third that I’ve headed to Vermont for my summer holidays, and for good reason. There’s nothing quite like kicking back amongst stunning nature to spend time with people I love… and hey, I don’t even have to learn a new language to visit!

This year’s trip, as they’d say out there, was a doozy (here meaning ‘outstanding’). Reunited with Megan and family, we visited swimming holes, went on hikes, hosted BBQs, kayaked out on Lake Champlain, and drank shitty coffee at my favourite diner.

Most nights we spent chilling out at Maureen’s, but we did venture out after dark on the odd occasion. We spent one evening getting bitten to death by mosquitos as we watched a film at a drive-in cinema, which was a lot of fun despite the nasty critters. Another we spent at a campsite, where we rocked up with marshmallows, sausages, and a bottle of wine… but no tent. We’d seen the forecasted thunderstorm and decided that, given me and Megan’s combined survival skills, we would probably die if we tried to brave the night. It was a good shout, as the heavens opened after a couple of glasses of wine and we made for the warmth of home as our campfire was slowly smothered by the rain.

It’s silly little moments like these that make Vermont my happy place. The people make the place, there’s no doubt about that, but there’s also nothing that can beat escaping from my day-to-day amongst the green mountains that give the state its name.

All must things must come to an end, though, and this trip ended with Megan and family waving me off as I boarded a train headed south — but more on that next time.