I keep getting the insatiable urge to write, to pour my thoughts out into written form. I’ve been thinking lately that if you were to write the same story a hundred times, you’d have a hundred different stories. So in many ways, a story is like a photograph. You can go back to that exact same place, but you can never take the same photo.
Which I guess is why we’re encouraged to write soon, to write fast, to write it all. Because in a matter of hours, that story changes, and that photograph is a little bit different.
Tuesday, March 16, 2010
Monday, March 15, 2010
Back to Athens... again!
I'm killing time before getting shuttled out to the local bus station, to catch a bus from Sinarades to Corfu Town, so I can catch the overnight bus to Athens. It'll be another long night, as I did the same trek last Wednesday and I know just how exhausting it is, and I'm already regretting the four cups of black tea I downed at breakfast, as they're sure to keep me up all night. It's been an interesting few days, but nothing worth writing tonnes about. (Cliff's notes: lots of drinking.)
The Pink Palace has been an utter disappointment. I knew this would be a slower time of year than the summer, but I didn't think that when I checked in that I'd be the only guest in the entire hotel. They have beds for over 800, and in the summer it gets full. Athens had been quiet up until the last week, as spring breaks have begun to kick in, and the US students doing their years abroad in Italy have come to Greece for a week.
Few guests is fine, but there is basically nothing to do here. It's too cold to swim or tan (that didn't stop us from trying anyway though!), and none of the activities (quad safaris, cliff jumping, booze cruise, toga parties, island bus tours, etc) are running. They've even closed the Jacuzzi down for the winter, which is utter bullshit. If you're going to advertise it on Hostelworld, then leave it open all year round. Especially in the winter, when the only warm place to be is indoors.
Oh, and said Jacuzzi? Opens TOMORROW. Not impressed.
We made the best of it though, and for two nights the six of us still had a good time. V (short for Visilika), Sam and Meg from the US but studying in Florence were here for their vacation. They were trying to get to Albania, but crappy weather and a government strike kept them here an extra two nights. While it thwarted their vacation plans, it worked in my favour. There was also Meghan and Melissa, studying in Florence and Dublin respectively, and the six of us were a perfect match for the six stools at the bar.
And then, when the girls finally got to Albania, there were three. Half the hotel's guests gone, in just one ferry departure.
Megan and Melissa and I ventured into Corfu Town and explored one of two two fortresses (or fortri, as we deemed them), and again made the most of an otherwise less-than-stellar situation.
I've been here five nights now though, and I'm eager to get away from it. While I think that the Palace could be an amazing time in the summer, when they're rocking a full house, it's a waste of time in the winter. And what's worse is that the staff and owners don't seem to care that the guests are bored out of their minds.
I'll probably never be back to the Pink Palace, as I doubt I'll be returning to Greece anytime soon, and by the time I do I'll have outgrown the raucous partying phase of my life (that I can already feel myself growing out of).
I feel like this is my last chance to really be irresponsible, to blame my youth for my indiscretions, to get drunk and dance on a table and yell Woooo!! without having others (or myself) think that I'm too old for it. It's sad, because it was one of the things I was most looking forward to this trip, or at least in Greece anyway. And Greece in general has been a bit of a disappointment, primarily because of my timing, and I was hoping this would be a slice of redemption.
I'm going home to a daunting list of tasks: looking for employment, (finally) moving out of mom and dad's, and starting to think about scary long-term things, like figuring out where I want to live and buying a house there. I turn 25 in only a few months, and 25 seems so... adult. Halfway to thirty means I actually have to get my shit together. I was hoping the Palace would act as a farewell of sorts to the youthful freedom that I have to reluctantly say goodbye to too soon.
I still have a few good memories coming out of here though, so it's not a complete bust, but it's not at all what I expected. I guess I just need to lower my expectations here on out!
The Pink Palace has been an utter disappointment. I knew this would be a slower time of year than the summer, but I didn't think that when I checked in that I'd be the only guest in the entire hotel. They have beds for over 800, and in the summer it gets full. Athens had been quiet up until the last week, as spring breaks have begun to kick in, and the US students doing their years abroad in Italy have come to Greece for a week.
Few guests is fine, but there is basically nothing to do here. It's too cold to swim or tan (that didn't stop us from trying anyway though!), and none of the activities (quad safaris, cliff jumping, booze cruise, toga parties, island bus tours, etc) are running. They've even closed the Jacuzzi down for the winter, which is utter bullshit. If you're going to advertise it on Hostelworld, then leave it open all year round. Especially in the winter, when the only warm place to be is indoors.
Oh, and said Jacuzzi? Opens TOMORROW. Not impressed.
We made the best of it though, and for two nights the six of us still had a good time. V (short for Visilika), Sam and Meg from the US but studying in Florence were here for their vacation. They were trying to get to Albania, but crappy weather and a government strike kept them here an extra two nights. While it thwarted their vacation plans, it worked in my favour. There was also Meghan and Melissa, studying in Florence and Dublin respectively, and the six of us were a perfect match for the six stools at the bar.
And then, when the girls finally got to Albania, there were three. Half the hotel's guests gone, in just one ferry departure.
Megan and Melissa and I ventured into Corfu Town and explored one of two two fortresses (or fortri, as we deemed them), and again made the most of an otherwise less-than-stellar situation.
I've been here five nights now though, and I'm eager to get away from it. While I think that the Palace could be an amazing time in the summer, when they're rocking a full house, it's a waste of time in the winter. And what's worse is that the staff and owners don't seem to care that the guests are bored out of their minds.
I'll probably never be back to the Pink Palace, as I doubt I'll be returning to Greece anytime soon, and by the time I do I'll have outgrown the raucous partying phase of my life (that I can already feel myself growing out of).
I feel like this is my last chance to really be irresponsible, to blame my youth for my indiscretions, to get drunk and dance on a table and yell Woooo!! without having others (or myself) think that I'm too old for it. It's sad, because it was one of the things I was most looking forward to this trip, or at least in Greece anyway. And Greece in general has been a bit of a disappointment, primarily because of my timing, and I was hoping this would be a slice of redemption.
I'm going home to a daunting list of tasks: looking for employment, (finally) moving out of mom and dad's, and starting to think about scary long-term things, like figuring out where I want to live and buying a house there. I turn 25 in only a few months, and 25 seems so... adult. Halfway to thirty means I actually have to get my shit together. I was hoping the Palace would act as a farewell of sorts to the youthful freedom that I have to reluctantly say goodbye to too soon.
I still have a few good memories coming out of here though, so it's not a complete bust, but it's not at all what I expected. I guess I just need to lower my expectations here on out!
Friday, March 5, 2010
Back in Athens!
And I couldn't be happier about it. I was so done with Santorini a few days ago, but due to ridiculous ferry scheduling I wasn't able to escape until last night. Athens definitely feels like my home base for this trip, or at least the Greece part, and it's nice to know that as soon as I get back here there's an awesome place to stay (Athens Backpackers - highly recommend!).
Despite Santorini being home to 13,000+ people, I managed to get a clinger that would not leave me alone. He was harmless enough, but wouldn't get the hint until I snapped at him last night, telling him to stop following me around. It was frustrating because he was preventing me from striking up conversation with any of the other locals, and I'm sad to say that a good chunk of the last couple of days was spent being a recluse. Between Santorini's cold, windy weather, and the stupid desperate clinger that wouldn't take a hint even when I was blatantly ignoring him, I had few reasons to venture out. Factor in how expensive everything was (€3.50 for tea. TEA!) and I was perfectly content with laying low and eating cheap food.
This won't come as news to anyone, but holy wow Greece is expensive. €20/night for a hostel seems like a perfectly good deal, except that my budget is only about €65/day, and I'd like it to be even lower than that. Groceries for lunch, dinner out, and a drink during the evening add up quickly. Toss in a metro fare, a load of laundry and a bottle of water and that €65 is all but maxed out. I wish more of the hostels had kitchen facilities, because paying €11 for a chicken souvlaki dinner gets tiring. I miss cooking for myself!
I've managed to save on accommodation by taking ferries at night twice so far, and I plan to do the same with the bus to/from Corfu, if everything works out. At €46 for the bus and ferry to get there, I definitely do not want to add a stay in a hostel on top.
And that's the end of me ranting about how expensive everything is!
In other news, it sounds like the package I mailed home from Athens made it in its entirety to home! This is exciting for several reasons, the first being that the two bottles of amazing perfume oil that I picked up in Egypt have not broken! They were packed up pretty snuggly but still, I was concerned.
It also means that I've successfully imported contraband into Canada! In the package were two camel puffs (Coley will know exactly what I'm talking about), and when I mailed it off the woman at the post office looked up what Canada allows and doesn't allow, and for some reason leather was on the not allowed list. I figured I had no choice but to try my luck, as the worst case scenario was they'd confiscate it. I was not about to continue packing them around.
I also mailed home a bag of coral. Coral is so confusing; it's supposedly not allowed, as it's protected and yadda yadda yadda, but it washes up on shores everywhere. I can understand not allowing people to go and harvest it, but if dead coral shows up on a beach? I don't see the harm in taking it home.
When I went to board the plane from Cairo to Athens, I had the coral in my carry-on. When my bag when through the scanner, the security guard flagged it and tried telling me, in very broken English, that it wasn't allowed. It seemed as though he was pointing to one specific colour of coral too. Then? He waved me through with it anyway.
It's not the first time I've been allowed on a plane with contraband.
I'm happy to say that's the last package I'll be mailing home this trip. Mainly because I have very little money to spend on souvenirs here on out (which I'm fine with; it was India that I primarily wanted to stock up on treasures from), and because I can manage carrying an extra bag if it comes down to it. There were so many things I wish I could have bought, as they were dirt cheap, but they were heavy and wouldn't have been worth it to ship home. Oh well!
The next time I travel I'm going to hire a shipping container.
Despite Santorini being home to 13,000+ people, I managed to get a clinger that would not leave me alone. He was harmless enough, but wouldn't get the hint until I snapped at him last night, telling him to stop following me around. It was frustrating because he was preventing me from striking up conversation with any of the other locals, and I'm sad to say that a good chunk of the last couple of days was spent being a recluse. Between Santorini's cold, windy weather, and the stupid desperate clinger that wouldn't take a hint even when I was blatantly ignoring him, I had few reasons to venture out. Factor in how expensive everything was (€3.50 for tea. TEA!) and I was perfectly content with laying low and eating cheap food.
This won't come as news to anyone, but holy wow Greece is expensive. €20/night for a hostel seems like a perfectly good deal, except that my budget is only about €65/day, and I'd like it to be even lower than that. Groceries for lunch, dinner out, and a drink during the evening add up quickly. Toss in a metro fare, a load of laundry and a bottle of water and that €65 is all but maxed out. I wish more of the hostels had kitchen facilities, because paying €11 for a chicken souvlaki dinner gets tiring. I miss cooking for myself!
I've managed to save on accommodation by taking ferries at night twice so far, and I plan to do the same with the bus to/from Corfu, if everything works out. At €46 for the bus and ferry to get there, I definitely do not want to add a stay in a hostel on top.
And that's the end of me ranting about how expensive everything is!
In other news, it sounds like the package I mailed home from Athens made it in its entirety to home! This is exciting for several reasons, the first being that the two bottles of amazing perfume oil that I picked up in Egypt have not broken! They were packed up pretty snuggly but still, I was concerned.
It also means that I've successfully imported contraband into Canada! In the package were two camel puffs (Coley will know exactly what I'm talking about), and when I mailed it off the woman at the post office looked up what Canada allows and doesn't allow, and for some reason leather was on the not allowed list. I figured I had no choice but to try my luck, as the worst case scenario was they'd confiscate it. I was not about to continue packing them around.
I also mailed home a bag of coral. Coral is so confusing; it's supposedly not allowed, as it's protected and yadda yadda yadda, but it washes up on shores everywhere. I can understand not allowing people to go and harvest it, but if dead coral shows up on a beach? I don't see the harm in taking it home.
When I went to board the plane from Cairo to Athens, I had the coral in my carry-on. When my bag when through the scanner, the security guard flagged it and tried telling me, in very broken English, that it wasn't allowed. It seemed as though he was pointing to one specific colour of coral too. Then? He waved me through with it anyway.
It's not the first time I've been allowed on a plane with contraband.
I'm happy to say that's the last package I'll be mailing home this trip. Mainly because I have very little money to spend on souvenirs here on out (which I'm fine with; it was India that I primarily wanted to stock up on treasures from), and because I can manage carrying an extra bag if it comes down to it. There were so many things I wish I could have bought, as they were dirt cheap, but they were heavy and wouldn't have been worth it to ship home. Oh well!
The next time I travel I'm going to hire a shipping container.
Thursday, March 4, 2010
Only in India.
I forgot to include a funny moment that happened during the tour in India, and as I don’t know which day it happened on, I’ll just write about it now.
We were waiting in the train station for our train, and we had yet to witness the chaos that is the Indians boarding trains. Train doors typically don’t close, so people are boarding and disembarking long before the train comes to a complete stop. Seats are few, so there’s a mad scramble to get to them before everyone else, and it was typically the younger men without loads of stuff that managed to get seats. (Don’t give them to the tired old women carrying gargantuan packs and baskets atop their heads or anything. May the best man win!) Chaos is in full swing with the train still rolling along at a dangerous pace, and within moments the emergency windows are also open and being used as doors. People are fighting and pushing at the doors to get on, with people on the train fighting and pushing to get off the train.
Unlike at home, where we (mostly) understand that to make room for new people on the train, you must first let the old passengers off. In India, there’s no time for logic or manners! And I can’t really blame them; the trains will often leave before their scheduled departure time, and without any warning. But still, it’s a sight to see.
And then, in the midst of all this madness, what happens?
A cow walks by.
In the middle of a train station, among the hysterical passengers scrambling to get on the train. Slowly lumbering by, looking for food, ignoring the madness that surrounded it.
Only in India.
We were waiting in the train station for our train, and we had yet to witness the chaos that is the Indians boarding trains. Train doors typically don’t close, so people are boarding and disembarking long before the train comes to a complete stop. Seats are few, so there’s a mad scramble to get to them before everyone else, and it was typically the younger men without loads of stuff that managed to get seats. (Don’t give them to the tired old women carrying gargantuan packs and baskets atop their heads or anything. May the best man win!) Chaos is in full swing with the train still rolling along at a dangerous pace, and within moments the emergency windows are also open and being used as doors. People are fighting and pushing at the doors to get on, with people on the train fighting and pushing to get off the train.
Unlike at home, where we (mostly) understand that to make room for new people on the train, you must first let the old passengers off. In India, there’s no time for logic or manners! And I can’t really blame them; the trains will often leave before their scheduled departure time, and without any warning. But still, it’s a sight to see.
And then, in the midst of all this madness, what happens?
A cow walks by.
In the middle of a train station, among the hysterical passengers scrambling to get on the train. Slowly lumbering by, looking for food, ignoring the madness that surrounded it.
Only in India.
Kicking ass and taking names. Or getting refunds. Whichever really.
I’m not the kind of girl you tell “no refunds” to. Not when the ticket I’ve paid €32 for doesn’t say “no refunds” on it. And not when I wasn’t warned before buying it that refunds aren’t an option. And not when I’ve previously had a ticket refunded for another ferry. And especially not when I wasn’t warned that the ferry I was buying a ticket for was running late. So you can take your “no refunds” and shove it.
I was planning on boarding the 3:30pm ferry from Santorini to Piraeus, which, had it been on time, should have got me into port at around 11:25pm. This was cutting it close, as I knew the metro would probably stop running around midnight, but I figured even if I got halfway to Athens I could bus it the rest of the way, or worst case scenario, take a taxi the remaining distance. A taxi from right from port into Athens would have cost way way too much for my traveller’s budget though.
So cut to 3:30pm, when the ferry should be leaving but has yet to even get into port. I check the schedule, and there are two options for tomorrow. I go back to the Blue Star Ferry ticket office and ask to change my ticket.
The guy snickers and then tells me it’s impossible.
I let him know how I feel about this.
Long story short, a different employee cuts in, probably fearful that his coworker was about to lose his head, and calls the head office. He tries telling me that they never ever give refunds, but he’ll look into it anyway. I tell him I don’t even need a refund, just a change of date, and eventually he makes it happen.
Meanwhile, I’m reading the posted information about passengers’ rights when sailing with Blue Star, and it specifically says that passengers are entitled to compensation in case of delayed or cancelled ferries.
On my way out I tell Helpful Guy that he’s much nicer than his coworker. In earshot of the coworker. Coworker looks hurt and I tell him on my way out “Yes, I’m talking about you. You’re not very nice.” Because when Canadian girls don’t like you, they let you know.
Stavros, the owner of the hotel who drove me to port, laughed and told me that they don’t care if the ferry is on time or not, all they care about is getting their money.
Thanks a lot, Greece. Jerks.
Anywho, I’m now signed up for the 12:40am ferry tomorrow night/Saturday morning. It’s a superfast ferry too, so I’ll be into Athens at the lovely time of… 5:40am. Gross. And Stavros has been super awesome about it; for only €25 I can have the room until I leave tomorrow night. I’ve otherwise been paying €19.50/night, so an extra €5.50 to stay an extra 12 hours is a pretty good bargain. And he’ll drive me back to port tomorrow night. Perfect! Well, as perfect as staying in Santorini another night could be.
This trip has exaggerated two things about me: 1, I’m way more calm and laid back than I was before I left, and I hope I continue to be this way because it’s nice being so relaxed and 2, but when shit needs to be taken care of, shit gets taken care of.
I should have been a lawyer.
I was planning on boarding the 3:30pm ferry from Santorini to Piraeus, which, had it been on time, should have got me into port at around 11:25pm. This was cutting it close, as I knew the metro would probably stop running around midnight, but I figured even if I got halfway to Athens I could bus it the rest of the way, or worst case scenario, take a taxi the remaining distance. A taxi from right from port into Athens would have cost way way too much for my traveller’s budget though.
So cut to 3:30pm, when the ferry should be leaving but has yet to even get into port. I check the schedule, and there are two options for tomorrow. I go back to the Blue Star Ferry ticket office and ask to change my ticket.
The guy snickers and then tells me it’s impossible.
I let him know how I feel about this.
Long story short, a different employee cuts in, probably fearful that his coworker was about to lose his head, and calls the head office. He tries telling me that they never ever give refunds, but he’ll look into it anyway. I tell him I don’t even need a refund, just a change of date, and eventually he makes it happen.
Meanwhile, I’m reading the posted information about passengers’ rights when sailing with Blue Star, and it specifically says that passengers are entitled to compensation in case of delayed or cancelled ferries.
On my way out I tell Helpful Guy that he’s much nicer than his coworker. In earshot of the coworker. Coworker looks hurt and I tell him on my way out “Yes, I’m talking about you. You’re not very nice.” Because when Canadian girls don’t like you, they let you know.
Stavros, the owner of the hotel who drove me to port, laughed and told me that they don’t care if the ferry is on time or not, all they care about is getting their money.
Thanks a lot, Greece. Jerks.
Anywho, I’m now signed up for the 12:40am ferry tomorrow night/Saturday morning. It’s a superfast ferry too, so I’ll be into Athens at the lovely time of… 5:40am. Gross. And Stavros has been super awesome about it; for only €25 I can have the room until I leave tomorrow night. I’ve otherwise been paying €19.50/night, so an extra €5.50 to stay an extra 12 hours is a pretty good bargain. And he’ll drive me back to port tomorrow night. Perfect! Well, as perfect as staying in Santorini another night could be.
This trip has exaggerated two things about me: 1, I’m way more calm and laid back than I was before I left, and I hope I continue to be this way because it’s nice being so relaxed and 2, but when shit needs to be taken care of, shit gets taken care of.
I should have been a lawyer.
What to pack!
What you should pack on a trip if you are exactly like me. I’ve been keeping track of what’s been useful and what’s been useless so that when I venture off again I’m better prepared, but I figured I may as well post this so that others can possibly learn from my mistakes and wins.
Or I’m bored with talking about my day-to-day adventures and I’m opting to post this instead.
All of this advice is given on the basis that the trip will:
-be longer than two weeks
-involve varying methods of transportation, like ferries and trains
-involve stays at multiple places, with varying levels of accommodation (hostels, hotels, B&Bs, etc)
-not be somewhere tropical. Packing for somewhere tropical is basically “Fill suitcase with bikinis. Board plane.”
Packing tips:
This one was courtesy of Ella, and it’s been great. Pack your clothes in ziplock freezer bags, and sit on them to squish all the air out. It keeps everything small and separate, and makes packing super easy.
Extend that to everything else you can. Makeup cases are too bulky, so leave the case at home and use just a freezer bag. Use another for all the little things that will clutter up your pack (first aid kit, wet wipes, hand sani, etc).
Things that you won’t think you’ll need that you’ll be eternally grateful to have when you need them:
Sleeping bag.
I bought mine in Nepal thinking that I’d have to use it for two nights on a felucca sailboat in Egypt. Turns out I had confused the trip I opted against with the one I opted for and didn't officially need it, but this mistake turned out to be great. I’ve used it multiple times and I’d never take a similar trip without one now. But I’d be smart and buy one at home that’s much better quality (and much smaller in size) than the North Face knockoff I picked up in Kathmandu.
And sleeping bags protect you from cockroaches.
Slippers/warm cozy socks.
Hotel floors are often cold. Freezing cold. Freeeeeeezing cold.
Jewelry.
People recommend not wearing any jewelry when you travel. DON’T HEED THIS ADVICE. If you regularly wear jewelry at home, you will feel naked on your trip. Feeling naked is weird, and it also causes little miniature panic attacks of "omg where's my ring I don't know where my ring is why is my finger naked oh god oh god... oh right it's in Canada PHEW"
Obviously if you’re normally dripping with diamonds you’ll look like an asshole if you’re wandering the slums of India, but if you regularly wear a necklace, earrings and a ring, bring those items, or at least travel-appropriate versions.
I didn’t bring any of the jewelry I normally wear, save for two rings, for fear of pickpocketers ripping it off me. (Someone told me that in India, people will rip necklaces right off you. While I’m sure this has happened to someone at some point in time, I saw nothing that even hinted at this happening regularly enough to warrant not wearing a necklace.)
I’m using my jewelry-nakedness as an excuse for why I’ve bought so much silver on this trip.
Clothes that you normally wear.
This may seem obvious to some/all/everyone but me, but as soon as you start to shop for the trip you’re drawn to polyester quick-dry everything, which is foolish.
You’ll feel like a scrub. And if TLC taught me anything, it’s that no, we don’t want no scrubs. Scrubs get no love.
If you’re going into the jungle and actually need quick-dry stuff, then fine. But if you’re mostly just going city to city, in mostly dry environments, you’ll want all your regular clothes. You’ll be washing them at laundromats anyway, so you needn’t worry about their quickdryness, as it’s a moot point.
Clothes that you normally wear should also include one dressy outfit. I didn't bring anything suitable for a nice night out, and I regret it. Even if it's just a pretty tank and cute flats, do it.
Cutlery.
I made the stupid decision to toss my spork in the package I mailed home from Athens, thinking I wouldn’t need it. Bad idea, especially since it was so tiny and weighs nearly nothing. I still have my Swiss Army knife, so I can do fun things like cut fruits and veggies, but it’s no good for eating yogurt.
So now I’m on a mission to steal a spoon and fork at the next opportunity. International fugitive status, here I come!
Swiss Army knife.
You may not need it often, but when you do, it’s a lifesaver. Get one with scissors and a serrated blade and a sunglass screw screwdriver, and remember to put it back in your checked luggage when trying to board a plane. Oops.
A computer.
My netbook is the best $300 I spent in prep for this trip. If I were going somewhere for only a couple of weeks, I wouldn’t have bothered. But on a long trip where free wifi is readily available, it’s probably half paid for itself in money I would have spent at internet cafes and in the convenience. Plus, it’s little enough that it fits in my purse. Or rather, my purse is huge enough that it can house a netbook. Look at that however you want.
[Post-trip update: it's more than paid for itself in internet cafe savings, and was a lifesaver when I lost my camera as I didn't lose any pictures]
Speaking of purses...
A purse.
I got the bright idea that I could travel without one. I can't, and as a result I bought three on my trip. As practical as a daypack is, sometimes you won't want to look like a tourist (and a backpack looks ridiculous at dinner). Get a big one with lots of internal pockets, and make sure the whole shebang zips up to keep it pickpocket proof.
Lots of extra ziplock bags, in big and little sizes.
If you’re heeding my packing tip, you’ll wear out the bags and need new ones when they get holes.
Ziplock bags are also supremely useful when stealing food from the breakfast buffet. Trust me, you will do it. You are not better than a squished croissant and warm cheese for lunch.
Divacup.
If you are pre-menopausal and have a vagina, you need to go buy this right now. You're welcome.
Other stuff:
-a spare travel lock in case one goes missing (which they can and will)
-a microfiber travel towel (try brand Adventure Towl)
-diarrhoea meds like Immodium (you will get sick and need this)
-yeast infection meds (haven't needed this, and knock on wood I won't, but I'm grateful to have it just in case)
-any other meds you might occasionally need at home (e.g. sinus congestion meds)
-a compass
Other travel tips:
Budget money to mail stuff home.
You will buy stuff. Even if you don’t buy much, you’ll hate packing it around. Two more pounds of stuff doesn’t sound like much until you’re wearing it on your back for an hour hunting for a hotel at night.
A five kilo package from Mumbai to home cost about $70 to ship. It was more (60 Euros I think) to mail a 7kg package from Athens to home. So, not cheap. But worth every penny when you’re suddenly not carrying an extra ten pounds around.
Keep in mind that you’ll sometimes carry around all your luggage plus another four or five pounds (or more) of stuff. You’ll buy stuff along the way, you’ll sometimes have groceries, and you’ll almost always have a litre-plus bottle of water to tote around.
Things that MEC/similar stores sell that look like great ideas but are actually pretty pointless on a typical backpacking journey:
Dry bag.
If you want to carry around a half pound roll of vinyl that isn't even completely waterproof if it gets submerged, hey, be my guest. I saw no use for it.
Freshette / similar "outdoor plumbing" for women.
While great in theory, putting it into practice proved pathetic. I may try it again for camping/snowshoeing, but it wasn't the lifesaver I expected it to be.
Hangin out the passenger side, of his best friend’s ride…
Or I’m bored with talking about my day-to-day adventures and I’m opting to post this instead.
All of this advice is given on the basis that the trip will:
-be longer than two weeks
-involve varying methods of transportation, like ferries and trains
-involve stays at multiple places, with varying levels of accommodation (hostels, hotels, B&Bs, etc)
-not be somewhere tropical. Packing for somewhere tropical is basically “Fill suitcase with bikinis. Board plane.”
Packing tips:
This one was courtesy of Ella, and it’s been great. Pack your clothes in ziplock freezer bags, and sit on them to squish all the air out. It keeps everything small and separate, and makes packing super easy.
Extend that to everything else you can. Makeup cases are too bulky, so leave the case at home and use just a freezer bag. Use another for all the little things that will clutter up your pack (first aid kit, wet wipes, hand sani, etc).
Things that you won’t think you’ll need that you’ll be eternally grateful to have when you need them:
Sleeping bag.
I bought mine in Nepal thinking that I’d have to use it for two nights on a felucca sailboat in Egypt. Turns out I had confused the trip I opted against with the one I opted for and didn't officially need it, but this mistake turned out to be great. I’ve used it multiple times and I’d never take a similar trip without one now. But I’d be smart and buy one at home that’s much better quality (and much smaller in size) than the North Face knockoff I picked up in Kathmandu.
And sleeping bags protect you from cockroaches.
Slippers/warm cozy socks.
Hotel floors are often cold. Freezing cold. Freeeeeeezing cold.
Jewelry.
People recommend not wearing any jewelry when you travel. DON’T HEED THIS ADVICE. If you regularly wear jewelry at home, you will feel naked on your trip. Feeling naked is weird, and it also causes little miniature panic attacks of "omg where's my ring I don't know where my ring is why is my finger naked oh god oh god... oh right it's in Canada PHEW"
Obviously if you’re normally dripping with diamonds you’ll look like an asshole if you’re wandering the slums of India, but if you regularly wear a necklace, earrings and a ring, bring those items, or at least travel-appropriate versions.
I didn’t bring any of the jewelry I normally wear, save for two rings, for fear of pickpocketers ripping it off me. (Someone told me that in India, people will rip necklaces right off you. While I’m sure this has happened to someone at some point in time, I saw nothing that even hinted at this happening regularly enough to warrant not wearing a necklace.)
I’m using my jewelry-nakedness as an excuse for why I’ve bought so much silver on this trip.
Clothes that you normally wear.
This may seem obvious to some/all/everyone but me, but as soon as you start to shop for the trip you’re drawn to polyester quick-dry everything, which is foolish.
You’ll feel like a scrub. And if TLC taught me anything, it’s that no, we don’t want no scrubs. Scrubs get no love.
If you’re going into the jungle and actually need quick-dry stuff, then fine. But if you’re mostly just going city to city, in mostly dry environments, you’ll want all your regular clothes. You’ll be washing them at laundromats anyway, so you needn’t worry about their quickdryness, as it’s a moot point.
Clothes that you normally wear should also include one dressy outfit. I didn't bring anything suitable for a nice night out, and I regret it. Even if it's just a pretty tank and cute flats, do it.
Cutlery.
I made the stupid decision to toss my spork in the package I mailed home from Athens, thinking I wouldn’t need it. Bad idea, especially since it was so tiny and weighs nearly nothing. I still have my Swiss Army knife, so I can do fun things like cut fruits and veggies, but it’s no good for eating yogurt.
So now I’m on a mission to steal a spoon and fork at the next opportunity. International fugitive status, here I come!
Swiss Army knife.
You may not need it often, but when you do, it’s a lifesaver. Get one with scissors and a serrated blade and a sunglass screw screwdriver, and remember to put it back in your checked luggage when trying to board a plane. Oops.
A computer.
My netbook is the best $300 I spent in prep for this trip. If I were going somewhere for only a couple of weeks, I wouldn’t have bothered. But on a long trip where free wifi is readily available, it’s probably half paid for itself in money I would have spent at internet cafes and in the convenience. Plus, it’s little enough that it fits in my purse. Or rather, my purse is huge enough that it can house a netbook. Look at that however you want.
[Post-trip update: it's more than paid for itself in internet cafe savings, and was a lifesaver when I lost my camera as I didn't lose any pictures]
Speaking of purses...
A purse.
I got the bright idea that I could travel without one. I can't, and as a result I bought three on my trip. As practical as a daypack is, sometimes you won't want to look like a tourist (and a backpack looks ridiculous at dinner). Get a big one with lots of internal pockets, and make sure the whole shebang zips up to keep it pickpocket proof.
Lots of extra ziplock bags, in big and little sizes.
If you’re heeding my packing tip, you’ll wear out the bags and need new ones when they get holes.
Ziplock bags are also supremely useful when stealing food from the breakfast buffet. Trust me, you will do it. You are not better than a squished croissant and warm cheese for lunch.
Divacup.
If you are pre-menopausal and have a vagina, you need to go buy this right now. You're welcome.
Other stuff:
-a spare travel lock in case one goes missing (which they can and will)
-a microfiber travel towel (try brand Adventure Towl)
-diarrhoea meds like Immodium (you will get sick and need this)
-yeast infection meds (haven't needed this, and knock on wood I won't, but I'm grateful to have it just in case)
-any other meds you might occasionally need at home (e.g. sinus congestion meds)
-a compass
Other travel tips:
Budget money to mail stuff home.
You will buy stuff. Even if you don’t buy much, you’ll hate packing it around. Two more pounds of stuff doesn’t sound like much until you’re wearing it on your back for an hour hunting for a hotel at night.
A five kilo package from Mumbai to home cost about $70 to ship. It was more (60 Euros I think) to mail a 7kg package from Athens to home. So, not cheap. But worth every penny when you’re suddenly not carrying an extra ten pounds around.
Keep in mind that you’ll sometimes carry around all your luggage plus another four or five pounds (or more) of stuff. You’ll buy stuff along the way, you’ll sometimes have groceries, and you’ll almost always have a litre-plus bottle of water to tote around.
Things that MEC/similar stores sell that look like great ideas but are actually pretty pointless on a typical backpacking journey:
Dry bag.
If you want to carry around a half pound roll of vinyl that isn't even completely waterproof if it gets submerged, hey, be my guest. I saw no use for it.
Freshette / similar "outdoor plumbing" for women.
While great in theory, putting it into practice proved pathetic. I may try it again for camping/snowshoeing, but it wasn't the lifesaver I expected it to be.
Hangin out the passenger side, of his best friend’s ride…
Monday, March 1, 2010
More homesickness. But this time, the regular kind.
It’s ok, it’s not as bad as the title makes it out to be. I just think I’d trade this lonely hotel room in Iraklio for some home time right now. And I know that in a couple of days I’ll be back to living it up abroad, but for now I’m going to be a little homesick. And I’m ok with that.
Yesterday was quite possibly the hardest day of my life. Looking at it now, I’m pretty happy that I’ve never had to deal with worse, as everything turned out to be ok. I set off from the hostel in Rethymno just after 10 to catch the bus to Iraklio, where I planned on visiting Knossos. Mom gave me her iPod Touch before I left, and on it I’ve got my Twitter stream. There isn’t any wifi at the bus station, but I had a glance at the cached stream as I boarded the bus and I saw something that made my heart skip a beat.
SamirInVancity: Huge earthquake in Chile. Trying to look up more info.
Mom and dad are in Chile. I immediately think the worst. But the bus is leaving, and I don’t what to do, so I sit frozen in my seat as it departs. It’s an hour and a half to Rethymno, but it felt like an eternity. I’m going back and forth between calm and cool and collected, and choking on tears. Finally we get to the bus station and I get an internet connection. No messages from mom or dad or Will, but there’s plenty about it in the news.
8.8 magnitude on the Richter scale.
That is unbelievable.
Some people don’t know how the Richter scale works, so here’s some background:
Each point on the scale (e.g. 4.0 or 5.0 or 6.0) is TEN TIMES more powerful than the point before. So imagine that in miles: if a 7.0 were worth 70 miles an hour, an 8.0 would be 700mph. You go from average highway speeds to NEARLY BREAKING THE SOUND BARRIER in just a single point.
That’s why lots of 4 and 5 Richter quakes are reported with minimal to no damage, and sometimes no one even feels them. Get to a 6 or a 7 and you start to hear horror stories about bridges collapsing, buildings toppling over, and ridiculous tsunamis. And people dying.
8.8.
I get my shit together enough to convey to the poor woman working at the kiosk that I’d like a phone card. I call mom’s cell. Voicemail. Dad’s cell. Voicemail. It’s around 7am in Santiago at this point, so I somehow interpret this to mean it’s 7am in Vancouver. It was actually 2am. Oops. Call the house. No answer. Call Will’s cell. No answer. Leave a myriad of teary desperate voicemails asking everyone to email me as soon as they hear anything.
So now it’s noon and I’m standing in a parking lot freaking out. I obviously can’t go look at old shit for two hours so I reluctantly board the return bus to Rethymno. The iPod’s running out of juice and I know it might be hours/days until I hear something from mom and dad. Cue another 1.5 hour sobbing bus ride.
The next ten+ hours are me keeping vigil at my computer in the hostel, religiously refreshing my email in the hopes that there is news. I venture out a few times to try making calls but still no answer all around. Finally I get to talk to Will, who sounds as concerned as I am but did a wonderful job of calming me down a bit. He promises to email me as soon as he hears anything (as there’s no phone to call me at), and I reluctantly hang up.
The hostel managers, Ivan and Elena, were so sweet in trying to calm my nerves, and they invited me to a second dinner. (Seriously, best value hostel ever! 10 Euros a night and twice they fed me amazing dinners that would have cost at least that much had I eaten at a restaurant instead.) Afterwards, it’s tea and chocolate and more constant refreshing. I’m also worsening my worst fears by reading all the news, watching the death toll rise, and looking at all the pictures. Not the best situation to be in.
After dinner I hear from Hilary, and her and auntie Dar are on the case.
[I wisely stopped writing at this point to venture out of the lonely hotel room to find a bar that would air the gold medal men’s hockey game, and the rest of the night was spent drinking and cheering with my six Greek husbands – more about that later. I’m now wrapping this up the next day, Monday, in Santorini.]
Sometime around midnight I see the Best News Ever on Facebook. Mom posted:
We r on way to Lima. Whole of Chile shut down.
So after crying all day out of worry, I’m now bawling my eyes out, this time out of relief. The whole ordeal made me realize just how much I love and admire and adore my parents, and that I’m not going to be ready to say goodbye to them for at least another hundred and fifty years or so.
I finally get to bed well after 1am after 14 of the most emotionally exhaustive hours of my life. I felt like I had run a marathon, or at least I guess that’s a comparable feeling, as I will never be foolish enough to run one.
I probably should have slept all day after all that emotional turmoil, but I was up at 8 to shower, pack and head to the bus station, this time with all my stuff as I was planning on catching the ferry to Santorini last night.
I leave my bags at luggage storage and catch the local bus to Knossos. I was in a crappy mood going in, redeemed only slightly by the lack of entry fee as I was there on a Sunday, and Knossos was an epic disappointment. I almost wish I had paid the entrance fee so that I could have demanded a refund.
Knossos’ mantra should basically be “We had some really cool stuff here dating as far back as 1900BC, but then around 1908AD this dude named Arthur Evan came here with way too much money and ambition, and overhauled the entire site, claiming it was a restoration when it was really a creation of what his vivid imagination could come up with, and although we don’t really agree with his view and the work that he did we can’t really be bothered to undo it, so this is what you get, and by the way, everything that was actually original is now living elsewhere in museums so here are a bunch of replicas in their place.”
Sometimes I love run-on sentences.
So now we’ve got a day of emotional turmoil, a late night, an early morning, and the only thing I was looking forward to all day was a disappointment.
I salvage some of the remaining afternoon though, as I had a few hours to kill until my ferry was to depart, and I manage to find the 400-plus-year-old lion found in Iraklio’s town square. I also went to Fyllos…Sofies, as recommended by my Lonely Planet book, and tried their delicious bougatsa. Bougatsa is a cheese and pastry dish, and the version I had was topped with honey and cinnamon. An impressive, and probably not that difficult to make, dessert that I need to learn how to recreate when I get home.
Venture back down to the bus station, collect my bags from luggage storage, and I walk over to the port to board my ferry to Santorini. It was scheduled to leave at 6:20, and I’m there nearly an hour early. I don’t see the vessel. Head to the ticket counter to inquire and I find out that the ferry is stuck in Rhodes due to inclement weather and won’t be in port til at least the morning. He gives me 8am as a general timeframe for expected departure.
I’m now stuck in Iraklio, and my lovely €10 a night hostel is an hour and a half away by bus. A return trip ticket will cost me over €12, not to mention three hours of my time, and I have no idea if I’d make it back in time in the morning to catch the ferry.
I consult my LP guidebook and find a hotel that offers rooms with shared bathrooms for as low as €35/night. Perfect! Try calling them via payphone but I keep getting some weird disconnected noise. It’s not that far, so I set off, bags and backpack in tow, for the hotel.
It’s closed. That would explain the weird disconnected noise I got when I tried calling them. There’s a hotel next door, and I venture in. There’s room, but it’s €50/night. Ouch.
I venture back out, and have a look at what else is recommended by LP. There are other options as cheap as €40/night, but for the most part everything in Iraklio is expensive, which is why I wasn’t staying there in the first place. Nothing is nearby on the map, and it’s not uncommon for places to close in the offseason (I guess that they don’t realize that if they lowered their prices to something reasonable for backpackers that they’d have a full house all winter long), so I give up and go back to the €50/night place.
I’m still averaging well below the $100/day that so many people suggest as a backpacking budget, so it’s not as bad of a gouge as I’m making it out to be. I was tired and cranky and didn’t want to spend an hour and a half on a bus to save €20.
Cue sadness. I miss my parents after worrying so much, and even though they aren’t there, I was still thinking it would have been so nice to deal with all the worry at home, where I had Jack and Will and a phone to use at my disposal. Everyone at home is enjoying what is probably the biggest party that Vancouver will ever see, and I’ve started to regret being away for the Olympics. I know I’ll never ever ever regret travelling, and I couldn’t really have waited until post-Olympics, nor could I have cut my trip short. But couple all the craziness back home that I’m missing out on with my slight regret at being in Greece now (it would have been a million times more amazing in the summer), and I admit it: I miss home.
I’m missing a lot more than the Olympics, too. I’m missing my best friend’s wedding. Now I don’t in any way fault myself for that, as I’d already booked my tickets and she moved the date to when I was gone, but it’s still a little heartbreaking. This would have been the first time I’d have been a bridesmaid, and I was so pumped to help with bachelorette party and bridal shower planning. But hey, it’s Reyna’s big day, not mine, and she’s entitled to have it whatever day she wants. If I can’t be there, well, c’est la vie.
I’m missing the birthdays of three of my favourite people: dad, Nicole and Jenn. And Jenn’s birthday is St Patrick’s Day, so I’m missing that too. To be fair, had I been home I’d have missed her birthday celebration anyway, as she’s having her fete the same day as Reyna’s wedding, but it still sucks being away for all this.
Travel is (mostly) carefree, but the fact that I’ll be home in less than a month (30 days exactly) is starting to loom in the back of my head. And while I do miss lots of stuff about home, being home means responsibility, starting with jobhunting, which is my least favourite thing to do on the planet. I’ll be excited about whatever new job I land when I get it, but the interim is the worst part.
Regardless of my semi-homesickness, this is still nothing like how homesick I was when I was in Italy in 2006. I’m proud of how stable and independent I’ve been. Travelling solo is not nearly as terrifying as I’d have ever expected, and I think it’s something I’d do again if I can’t find a travel buddy the next time I want to go somewhere.
Big thanks to Dan for making my travel dream a reality. I wish you were here to see my photos and hear my stories. Miss you.
Yesterday was quite possibly the hardest day of my life. Looking at it now, I’m pretty happy that I’ve never had to deal with worse, as everything turned out to be ok. I set off from the hostel in Rethymno just after 10 to catch the bus to Iraklio, where I planned on visiting Knossos. Mom gave me her iPod Touch before I left, and on it I’ve got my Twitter stream. There isn’t any wifi at the bus station, but I had a glance at the cached stream as I boarded the bus and I saw something that made my heart skip a beat.
SamirInVancity: Huge earthquake in Chile. Trying to look up more info.
Mom and dad are in Chile. I immediately think the worst. But the bus is leaving, and I don’t what to do, so I sit frozen in my seat as it departs. It’s an hour and a half to Rethymno, but it felt like an eternity. I’m going back and forth between calm and cool and collected, and choking on tears. Finally we get to the bus station and I get an internet connection. No messages from mom or dad or Will, but there’s plenty about it in the news.
8.8 magnitude on the Richter scale.
That is unbelievable.
Some people don’t know how the Richter scale works, so here’s some background:
Each point on the scale (e.g. 4.0 or 5.0 or 6.0) is TEN TIMES more powerful than the point before. So imagine that in miles: if a 7.0 were worth 70 miles an hour, an 8.0 would be 700mph. You go from average highway speeds to NEARLY BREAKING THE SOUND BARRIER in just a single point.
That’s why lots of 4 and 5 Richter quakes are reported with minimal to no damage, and sometimes no one even feels them. Get to a 6 or a 7 and you start to hear horror stories about bridges collapsing, buildings toppling over, and ridiculous tsunamis. And people dying.
8.8.
I get my shit together enough to convey to the poor woman working at the kiosk that I’d like a phone card. I call mom’s cell. Voicemail. Dad’s cell. Voicemail. It’s around 7am in Santiago at this point, so I somehow interpret this to mean it’s 7am in Vancouver. It was actually 2am. Oops. Call the house. No answer. Call Will’s cell. No answer. Leave a myriad of teary desperate voicemails asking everyone to email me as soon as they hear anything.
So now it’s noon and I’m standing in a parking lot freaking out. I obviously can’t go look at old shit for two hours so I reluctantly board the return bus to Rethymno. The iPod’s running out of juice and I know it might be hours/days until I hear something from mom and dad. Cue another 1.5 hour sobbing bus ride.
The next ten+ hours are me keeping vigil at my computer in the hostel, religiously refreshing my email in the hopes that there is news. I venture out a few times to try making calls but still no answer all around. Finally I get to talk to Will, who sounds as concerned as I am but did a wonderful job of calming me down a bit. He promises to email me as soon as he hears anything (as there’s no phone to call me at), and I reluctantly hang up.
The hostel managers, Ivan and Elena, were so sweet in trying to calm my nerves, and they invited me to a second dinner. (Seriously, best value hostel ever! 10 Euros a night and twice they fed me amazing dinners that would have cost at least that much had I eaten at a restaurant instead.) Afterwards, it’s tea and chocolate and more constant refreshing. I’m also worsening my worst fears by reading all the news, watching the death toll rise, and looking at all the pictures. Not the best situation to be in.
After dinner I hear from Hilary, and her and auntie Dar are on the case.
[I wisely stopped writing at this point to venture out of the lonely hotel room to find a bar that would air the gold medal men’s hockey game, and the rest of the night was spent drinking and cheering with my six Greek husbands – more about that later. I’m now wrapping this up the next day, Monday, in Santorini.]
Sometime around midnight I see the Best News Ever on Facebook. Mom posted:
We r on way to Lima. Whole of Chile shut down.
So after crying all day out of worry, I’m now bawling my eyes out, this time out of relief. The whole ordeal made me realize just how much I love and admire and adore my parents, and that I’m not going to be ready to say goodbye to them for at least another hundred and fifty years or so.
I finally get to bed well after 1am after 14 of the most emotionally exhaustive hours of my life. I felt like I had run a marathon, or at least I guess that’s a comparable feeling, as I will never be foolish enough to run one.
I probably should have slept all day after all that emotional turmoil, but I was up at 8 to shower, pack and head to the bus station, this time with all my stuff as I was planning on catching the ferry to Santorini last night.
I leave my bags at luggage storage and catch the local bus to Knossos. I was in a crappy mood going in, redeemed only slightly by the lack of entry fee as I was there on a Sunday, and Knossos was an epic disappointment. I almost wish I had paid the entrance fee so that I could have demanded a refund.
Knossos’ mantra should basically be “We had some really cool stuff here dating as far back as 1900BC, but then around 1908AD this dude named Arthur Evan came here with way too much money and ambition, and overhauled the entire site, claiming it was a restoration when it was really a creation of what his vivid imagination could come up with, and although we don’t really agree with his view and the work that he did we can’t really be bothered to undo it, so this is what you get, and by the way, everything that was actually original is now living elsewhere in museums so here are a bunch of replicas in their place.”
Sometimes I love run-on sentences.
So now we’ve got a day of emotional turmoil, a late night, an early morning, and the only thing I was looking forward to all day was a disappointment.
I salvage some of the remaining afternoon though, as I had a few hours to kill until my ferry was to depart, and I manage to find the 400-plus-year-old lion found in Iraklio’s town square. I also went to Fyllos…Sofies, as recommended by my Lonely Planet book, and tried their delicious bougatsa. Bougatsa is a cheese and pastry dish, and the version I had was topped with honey and cinnamon. An impressive, and probably not that difficult to make, dessert that I need to learn how to recreate when I get home.
Venture back down to the bus station, collect my bags from luggage storage, and I walk over to the port to board my ferry to Santorini. It was scheduled to leave at 6:20, and I’m there nearly an hour early. I don’t see the vessel. Head to the ticket counter to inquire and I find out that the ferry is stuck in Rhodes due to inclement weather and won’t be in port til at least the morning. He gives me 8am as a general timeframe for expected departure.
I’m now stuck in Iraklio, and my lovely €10 a night hostel is an hour and a half away by bus. A return trip ticket will cost me over €12, not to mention three hours of my time, and I have no idea if I’d make it back in time in the morning to catch the ferry.
I consult my LP guidebook and find a hotel that offers rooms with shared bathrooms for as low as €35/night. Perfect! Try calling them via payphone but I keep getting some weird disconnected noise. It’s not that far, so I set off, bags and backpack in tow, for the hotel.
It’s closed. That would explain the weird disconnected noise I got when I tried calling them. There’s a hotel next door, and I venture in. There’s room, but it’s €50/night. Ouch.
I venture back out, and have a look at what else is recommended by LP. There are other options as cheap as €40/night, but for the most part everything in Iraklio is expensive, which is why I wasn’t staying there in the first place. Nothing is nearby on the map, and it’s not uncommon for places to close in the offseason (I guess that they don’t realize that if they lowered their prices to something reasonable for backpackers that they’d have a full house all winter long), so I give up and go back to the €50/night place.
I’m still averaging well below the $100/day that so many people suggest as a backpacking budget, so it’s not as bad of a gouge as I’m making it out to be. I was tired and cranky and didn’t want to spend an hour and a half on a bus to save €20.
Cue sadness. I miss my parents after worrying so much, and even though they aren’t there, I was still thinking it would have been so nice to deal with all the worry at home, where I had Jack and Will and a phone to use at my disposal. Everyone at home is enjoying what is probably the biggest party that Vancouver will ever see, and I’ve started to regret being away for the Olympics. I know I’ll never ever ever regret travelling, and I couldn’t really have waited until post-Olympics, nor could I have cut my trip short. But couple all the craziness back home that I’m missing out on with my slight regret at being in Greece now (it would have been a million times more amazing in the summer), and I admit it: I miss home.
I’m missing a lot more than the Olympics, too. I’m missing my best friend’s wedding. Now I don’t in any way fault myself for that, as I’d already booked my tickets and she moved the date to when I was gone, but it’s still a little heartbreaking. This would have been the first time I’d have been a bridesmaid, and I was so pumped to help with bachelorette party and bridal shower planning. But hey, it’s Reyna’s big day, not mine, and she’s entitled to have it whatever day she wants. If I can’t be there, well, c’est la vie.
I’m missing the birthdays of three of my favourite people: dad, Nicole and Jenn. And Jenn’s birthday is St Patrick’s Day, so I’m missing that too. To be fair, had I been home I’d have missed her birthday celebration anyway, as she’s having her fete the same day as Reyna’s wedding, but it still sucks being away for all this.
Travel is (mostly) carefree, but the fact that I’ll be home in less than a month (30 days exactly) is starting to loom in the back of my head. And while I do miss lots of stuff about home, being home means responsibility, starting with jobhunting, which is my least favourite thing to do on the planet. I’ll be excited about whatever new job I land when I get it, but the interim is the worst part.
Regardless of my semi-homesickness, this is still nothing like how homesick I was when I was in Italy in 2006. I’m proud of how stable and independent I’ve been. Travelling solo is not nearly as terrifying as I’d have ever expected, and I think it’s something I’d do again if I can’t find a travel buddy the next time I want to go somewhere.
Big thanks to Dan for making my travel dream a reality. I wish you were here to see my photos and hear my stories. Miss you.
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