Snowflakes & Delayed Flights

After a stressful day of finishing up all the bits, I found myself sitting at the airport drinking wine with my dear friend waiting for our flight to depart. After a series of events, she ended up on the same flight with me after all. So here we are bound for Calgary through a snowstorm. 

Turns out going through airport security with climbing chalk and protein powder wasn't nearly as bad as bringing the nail clippers, sunscreen, and razor cartridges. Two out of three made it through and it's not like I really wear sunscreen anyway.

Leaving home is alway tough. I'm always worried while I'm gone me ma might finally decide to kill my pup pup. So I always say goodbye to him with a lump in my throat and tears threatening to run from my eyes. It is even more soul crushing now because he can't hear me tell him how much I love him.

This trip is a new sort of anomaly for me. I have virtually no plans and really don't even know what I want to do while I'm travelling. I can sort of see the end goal as getting to Europe for at least a few weeks before returning to Canada but everything is very much up in the air.

The pack pack I swore I would not take on another trip is packed full yet again. This time with my day pack inside it, weighing a total of 27 pounds. I'm trying to blame the protein powder but who really knows at this point. I thought I had streamlined my packing down to such an art, when I found myself still trying to cram the last bits into my pack I was frustrated and annoyed with myself. The dreams of travelling in twenty litres seem so far off. 

I'm most indifferent to this adventure because all I can think about is climbing rocks. All I want to do is be better, and become stronger. Yet here I am flying off to a land that has very little information about climbing listed online. And my Spanish is still shockingly bad.

I guess this means it is time to be on. In a constant state of putting myself out there and reaching out to make new friends. This should be an interesting shift in my travel life. I'm definitely ready for a clean break. 

Here is to dawn patrol and morning runs, early nights and tropical rainstorms... 

Day one, one hundred and eighty some odd days to go.

Life is grand

Nine Days, Five Hours & Fifty-Six Minutes

Here we go again... It seems like round three but really it's round four. This time last year I was in Burgundy, the year before that Dublin, and before that Beunos Aires. This summer flew by, it seems like I just got home and suddenly all the things I had told myself I was going to get done before leaving again I hadn't even started.
I spent last weekend sorting through all my memories, and literally throwing 90% of them out in a ruthless downsizing. Me ma was concerned about the amount of stuff I had in storage if for any reason she would end up having to move it. Clearly she doesn't think I am going to come back from one of these adventures.
The summer home may have flown by without so much as a word typed, however the paper journal saw some action and some personal revelations.

I have had very little will to do any sort of planning for this trip, because honestly I really don't know how long I am going to stay in Central America before I fly over the ocean. But that should make for a much more interesting read...

182 days abroad with zero planning... 40 litres... and Tompers....
Sounds like an excellent adventure!

My mother used to whistle...

I almost find it amusing how this trip has shifted my life. It is almost like it took being away from home for 500+ days to realize that I’m just not cut out for it. However, as I now feel my heart pulling towards a home, I also stand here lost in Europe. There is a part of my soul that will never leave these ancient cities. How when you grew up in a country that is younger than the flat you lived in, in Ireland, one could think their home has the answers. But what does your home know? It’s just a babe.

As it turns out, Europe helps to provide many questions. It also made me realized that although I am Canadian, and yes again Canadian, and a bit offended you’re still asking,…, Canadian. I am at the end of it, all so enamoured with Europe.  It seems my soul beats to the same drum as Europe, Andalusia to be specific. A region unparalleled in my exploration.

I have learned in my European adventure that as it would so happen, I come from a country that has never fought a single war on our soil. I don’t know who you are, or where you’re from, but that is saying a lot. It also changes the shape of who I am as a person. I have never lived in fear. I have never felt my freedom restricted.

I was blessed enough to grow up in an era where my mother would literally whistle to call us (my sister & I) in for dinner. The rules were, we could be anywhere in the neighbourhood provided we could hear her whistle. And to this day I still know exactly what my mother’s whistle sounds like, out of love, not fear.

Travelling Europe has broken my heart so many times. I find myself feeling guilty for the “luxury” I was born into. There is also a small part of me that feels angry that people judge me for my “privileged” life.

It is not my fault I was born in a different country.

I am forever pulled back to the motherland. How can I be over here in Europe professing to be such a proud Canadian? Should I not be in the country I think is so amazing?

Even more so, should I not thank my ancestors for whatever struggles they no doubt endured to allow me to be born in Canada? There was no magic fairy that just made it so. I reckon my ancestors fought survival battles of their own for me to be so blessed with this life. And I owe them.

I reckon I owe them enough to know they fought, struggled, nearly starved, half froze to death to provide me with everything they wanted for their children. So as I return to Canada, I do so with the realization that I have people to thank for the amazing life, I was fortunate enough to grow up in.

It took 500+ days,

Thank you,

Forever and always

Walls, Jones, Russman, Kennedy

Corruption and Me Just Over Here Missing My Mommy

Romania… where do I start?

I asked someone in a hostel, “What is Romania known for?” I had just arrived and therefore I always find myself yearning to know more about the country I have suddenly found myself in.

His answer:

“Corruption”

I had merely asked in regards to things like food, and alcohol. So that answer actually shocked me. I went to the trouble, at that point, to learn something… and more importantly some interesting facts about Romania…

Here are the ones that really surprised me:

- According to someone on Tinder 48% of Romanians speak english. I thought this was amazing so naturally I didn't believe him. I had to google it... It's actually more like 75% of the entire country speaks English. Mind blown... English is in fact (according to google) the best known language in Romania! (don't be stupid, obviously outside of the language they speak which is ROMANIAN)

- Romania joined the Second World War on the side of the Nazis!!!! This resulted in 400,000 Romanian Jews and 36,000 Roma sent to their deaths in concentration camps. It took until 1944, and all those deaths for them to switch sides.

- In 1947 the Soviet-dominated Romanian Peoples Republic was proclaimed.

- In 1948 the residents of Bran Castle (Princess Ileana, her mother had restored the castle and bequeathed it to her favorite (allegedly) daughter in her will) were forcibly removed by communists. I highly recommend a little read on the Princess and her family as it is actually quite the story.

- The "House of the People" is the most disgraceful waste of money in a country that is (according to google) the poorest in the EU. However, the man and his entire family were executed on CHRISTMAS! By a firing squad!! And this is like 1989, which for an innocent little Canadian like me I find shocking

- A Romanian gymnast was the first to obtain a perfect score at the Olympics... In Montreal, and us silly Canadians didn't program the judge's computers to display a perfect score so there was some confusion... (Probably in French) It's funny how things like this don't really matter until you find yourself in their country.

- A lawyer named Popovici was the Romanian "Schindler" and actually saved more lives. Technicalities people! No one made a movie about this guy, just saying. 

- Romanians have "groundbear day" (Candlemas) instead of the "American" groundhog day.

- Some countries smuggle hard drugs. Romanians smuggle cigarettes.

I have a hard time admitting that I just didn’t find the beat of Romania. I didn’t fall in love with the country at all. Part of it could very well be I just wasn’t a fan of the food. I found myself searching for the vibe, for the reason to stick around. It just wasn’t something I could find.  I honestly felt like the eight days I spent there may have been too many. That or maybe not enough. I wonder if a big part of it is just that I’m ready to go home.

I really miss Canada. Snow falling in Sibiu reminded me I am so in love with the country I come from because you know what… it truly is an amazing place to be from. And maybe, just maybe I miss my mommy.

The Budget Struggle is Real

Moving cities every few days has made it so hard to convince myself that it is worth the trouble of unpacking my bag to dig out my laptop and actually accomplish some writing. So yes I have been wearing pretty much the same outfit since I left Ireland, with the exception of today, I’m wearing shorts! And thank god for that because I brought four pairs with me from Canada, and yep haven’t worn em. I could have had I packed them for my trip to the Netherlands but silly me didn’t.  

I have logged a decent amount of miles in my running gear too, and it really is time to properly wash my clothes, they are starting to smell. I’m holding out till I get to Romania though because it is literally a tenth of the cost there. Before you go and get sick, I have been hand washing my clothes, well my socks and underwear. I do this in the shower, a trick Fletcher taught me in Montreal many years ago. Funny because we had a washing machine at that flat. My jeans are halfway between life and death so I might just replace them instead of washing them. Also when I left Ireland I packed all my work socks which I literally threw out after wearing which was convenient. My shoes have caught the stink and I would love to throw them out and I will, just not yet. In fact everything I own is pretty much ready for the bin with the exception of those very expensive running socks I bought 6 years ago, they are still in perfect condition. Not as white as I’d like but that can easily be fixed when I’m back in the motherland. Enough about my laundry, Tompers is literally refusing to go anywhere near NefFie. (we have named the 40L NorthFace backpack, fitting really because she will be up for adoption after this trip) That’s probably a sign.

I cannot believe I am nearing the half way point of my trip. I also cannot believe I’m still hauling so much crap around with me. I’m frustrated with myself that NefFie is so full and I have packpack attached to my waist strap, granted he is usually full of food… What can I say, I’m on a budget.

Speaking of…

My poor budget hasn’t really stood much of a chance. It looks a bit hilarious because there are days were I did so well, but more often than not I was over my budget. It’s hard to really tell because I was putting in the costs for hotels etc that were booked for the future on the day I paid for them so it won’t really be a true representation of how I did on a day to day basis. And, until it is all said and done. However, according to my app I’m running at about €10 over budget per day… I did set my budget aggressively low, I guess to attempt to guilt me into staying on track… Travelling Europe at forty quid a day should not be easy. I’m actually questioning if it is even possible. I’m becoming my mother. Mom I mean this in the nicest way possible but come on we all know you are “frugal” as you like to say… *cough* cheap *cough*

Me the girl famous for her fancy Starbucks drinks actually says no to buying coffee, (in freaking Italy!!!!!!!!) unless there is a benefit for me. Like in Siena I wanted wifi and I had almost two hours to kill so I bought a coffee for €1.50 in exchange for the wifi password. I could have been truly cheap and just asked for it but I don’t want to be that person *cough* mom *cough*


One of the few things that I do to stay on budget is walk everywhere. Public transit is cheap but it adds up fast. Two feet and a heartbeat are free, plus I’m kicking ass on my fitbit challenges. (suckers)

That being said, I want to defend my budgeting skills… I have had a few unexpected setbacks. Having to pay €14 for the locker storage at the bus station in Granada instead of €7 because the coins didn’t work to get my stuff out and they guy refused to believe that I had already put the coins in/listen to my English or let me try to explain in my absolutely crap Spanish. I had to catch my bus, I didn’t have time to find a translator. I also paid €3.50 for a locker in Malaga because I forgot my container with my lunch in it in the fridge at my hostel and didn’t want to haul my bags all the way back there to get it, I rationalized this with the fact that it would have cost me more than that to buy lunch and having a container is extremely handy. I also got caught in Rome with unexpected really high city tax that was not included in the booking cost of the room. In fact all of my hostels in Italy charged an additional “city tax”.

Today I spent €13 on a salad and a couple bananas at an extremely overpriced market, of course I did not know how overpriced it was because there was no prices on the shelves I just assumed it would be similar to everywhere else, silly me. Trying not to cry about it.

I guess the thing is, nothing is free anymore. You want to go inside any building you have to pay, and if you don’t have to pay every other tourist has the same idea so the cue is ridiculous. (This is the off-season too) The only thing I haven’t had to pay for yet is to use the bathroom. Mainly because I’m dehydrated. I do find myself sometimes struggling with when I should let the budget go and pay for things that might be once in a lifetime experiences, then I think I’d prefer to have a few drinks with a stranger, over seeing the inside of yet another museum/church.

I do find myself comparing every new city to the other cities I have been, I was floored at how dirty and gross Bordeaux was. Especially after how clean Spain was. I guess I was expecting Spain to be filthy, I was stunned at how unsoiled it is. I just had this image of Bordeaux in my mind, and well it let me down in real life. It also ended up being an extremely expensive stop because I accidentally invited this German guy to join me, which just resulted in costing me even more money, and the Airbnb I had booked, and paid a fair bit for, to get some much needed alone time I knew by then I would need, ended up being shared with this guy who had the audacity to actually make me pay for our round of beers when we were out. I’m far too nice of a person it seems. Must let it go, maybe Bordeaux needs a second chance.

Italy has been amazing. I’m not sure what I was expecting to be honest. I guess it’s just that I got so many mixed reviews about it, but I even loved Rome. I reckon the whole experience would be so different in the summer when everything is triple the price and crawling with tourists. It’s been so lovely not having to compete with a bunch of tourists. Turns out everyone speaks English too which has been very convenient for me. So I’ve learned zero Italian. The big thing that I noticed is compared to Spain there is nowhere to sit outside, unless you’re paying. Spain is literally covered with park benches and green space, Italy has none of that. Also in Italy you have no rights as a pedestrian. NO ONE will stop for you ever, even if you’re at a crosswalk. You don’t matter to the insane drivers of Italy. They also all park like crazy people.  

I wonder how things are going to change as I head into Eastern Europe.