The Struggle

I'm actually sitting in the rain in a hostel in the middle of the mountain is Guatemala as I write this. They have no wifi so what else is a girl to do? I'm definitely struggling with writing. 

There was something so liberating about parting ways with my travel friends. Don't get me wrong I love them and enjoyed travelling with them, I was just ready to be on my own again. There is something so freeing about not having to worry about anyone other than Tompers. He's pretty low maintenance like. They were probably so happy to go on their own way and not have to deal with my insane diet.

Since I left Canada I have been glutined at least a half dozen times, I'm so terrified of eating in restaurants now. It is literally THE most frustrating thing on earth. I can not tell you how many times I've wanted to just enjoy a cold beer especially as we were spending our time on the beaches. 

I should mention I'm also sitting here tonight quite hungry because I haven't eaten much today and I am terrified to order anything and there are no stores to walk to.. looks like protein powder for dinner for this girl again. I have to admit I have started to get used to feeling hungry all the time.

She Thinks Belize is a Third World Country

I've gotst all the monies in the worlds... She says as she asks me if I think they will give us more wine.  That is the question... 

I love that this turn of events has us sitting with an empty seat between us at the back of the plane. The flight attendant asked us if we had been cut off and that was why we were asking her, we haven't been and turns out we can have more wine. Happy Days! 

A hilarious revelation also came to light, my dear paranoid friend informed me that she already has her money belt on. She is so paranoid someone is going to rob her she brought a decoy bank card. *insert hysterical laughing face here* She says and I quote "I'm prepared for my robbery" I should also mention that she already explained to me her action plan to save her swim suits in the event of a robbery...

This is what I'm dealing with. She's trying to shove glutinous crackers in my face.. And apparently we are headed to a third world country... Jaysus, Mary & Joseph.... 

Day two is off without a hitch... 

"As soon as we start going down they are going to cut you off from that thing anyways"

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