OoooH we love it when you have sick stories, they say, give us more poop stories they say. First of all, how dare you, and secondly FINE. We talk Ireland, including some beautiful cliffs, great food, and also like, the sickest Maggie has ever been in her whole life.
We’re meat-bagging it up, with a stay at a foofy Scottish resort that fully looks like Downton Abbey, and some time by the Lochs and in Oban. Adam is pretty high on golf— will it be enough for him to actually use his clubs at home? PROBABLY NOT. Maggie eats her body weight in seafood. We make friends with a Harris Hawk.
Jet lag is real, and so is this new episode. Don't worry, Taco is safe and sound in Berkeley, but Maggie and Adam are in Scotland! Also, likely safe and sound. One must assume. We talk delicious foods, aimless wandering, excellent museums and also Maggie's NEAR PERFECT copiloting skills.
We're baaaaaaaack! And it's been a hot minute. We talk about our most recent adventure, crimes against Shadow, and our dog the best dog in the world. Shadow faces her strangest injury. Adam doesn't understand Palm Springs. Taco finds a tortoise!
MEXICO HERE WE COME! Some technical difficulties leave us stranded in San Diego for a hot second. We may or may not get scammed at the border. Spoiler: we don't make it to Mulegé. But we DO have some Baja love to share. Adam does some minimall field repair. Maggie battles a hat trick of discomforts. We confirm that Trip Advisor is bullshit.
On the road again! And on the mic. Thanks for your patience with our VERY long hiatus-- but we're back on our bullshit, and back to our heritage: recording podcasts in strange and new locations, and talking about poop. We talk traveling with a puppy, Yosemite, and some prowling coyotes. Maggie deals with Taco on a particularly bad day. Alone. Adam has a run in with some fiber gummies.