I stood in Anthony’s bathroom, looking at myself in the mirror. Same jeans. Same gray T-shirt from Target with doves flying on it. Same old gray fleece. Same hiking shoes. Same, same, same! GROSS. “Anthony, I cannot stand it! I have to go and get something new. Now.” I moaned to him, throwing up myContinue reading “A backpacker goes shopping”
Tag Archives: backpacking
A BRIEF intermission: Month Three … I blame my blog and Twitter
Today is Monday, June 7. Today marks the completion of Month Three of my travels. It’s been a wild and crazy ride so far. I have journeyed to: London; Dublin and Galway, Ireland; Madrid; Valdelavilla, Spain; back to Madrid; Monfrague, Spain; Budapest; Brasov and Cluj-Napoca, Romania; Krakow; Prague; Berlin; Amsterdam; back to Madrid; Merida, Spain;Continue reading “A BRIEF intermission: Month Three … I blame my blog and Twitter”
Next stop: Cluj-Napoca
The day following our little Romanian Road Trip, it was time to head out. Tommy and Benjamin had left the previous night, Chris was leaving at the crack of dawn for Istanbul (and an Anzac Day event), and I was boarding a train northeast to Cluj for some more time in Romania.
The trip from Brasov to Romania was beautiful. The clouds hung low in the sky, gray against bright green rolling hills and the odd trees poking out of the ground, boasting the first blooms of spring.
And then, there it was in the distance, spreading up one of those rolling hills in red and yellow and all sorts of pretty, Cluj-Napoca.
A BRIEF intermission: Chasing spring … two months in
A year ago, when I lived in Atlanta, I remember marveling at the city’s sheer gorgeousness with the changing of the season. The pink flowers that would sprout from the winding trees. The bright green grass that would pop up overnight. The light wind that would gently blow during days spent at Piedmont Park, taking in the South’s spring.
I would never in a million years have imagined spending my spring 365 days later in Europe, living in a prolonged (and amazing) spring for nearly two months.
The upside of traveling solo is the same as the down
I stood, lost in thought at the taco counter in Pest.
“Are you OK?” asked the young man at the counter, in English seeping with a beautiful Hungarian accent.
I jogged back into the moment.
“Oh, yeah,” I said, grabbing my metal tray containing a junior burrito and large beer. “Just thinking.”
And I left it at that.
The truth was, I was OK. But, only kindasortanotreallymaybe.
A BRIEF intermission: One month in
Today is Wednesday, April 7, 2010 and I am officially one month into my travels. Today marks the longest I have ever been away from America. And, it feels absolutely AMAZING. There was a time in my life when no one would have ever imagined my leaving the comfort of my home, my life, andContinue reading “A BRIEF intermission: One month in”
Sorry, mate
I’m pretty sure I fell in love with Notting Hill and Portobello Market — the winding streets of row homes all painted different colors, the little vintage shops and the pubs made me feel warm and fuzzy. It was easy for me to spend a day just walking around the area.
But it was the last day with Pat, his girlfriend and their friend that was my best day in London.
Backpacker chic
I looked in the mirror before we headed out to celebrate Shaun’s flatmate’s birthday. Messy hair back in a low pony styled by Shaun: hot. Smokey eyes: sexy Graypink vintage shirt, dark jeans: Not too bad. Then, I looked to my feet. Backpacker black flats: Ugh. I’m not the most stylish person, but I don’tContinue reading “Backpacker chic”
Naptime interruptus
I closed my eyes on the black leather sofa.
Ahhhh. It felt so good to just lay there. Backpack off. Messenger bag off. Both piled in a heap on the floor next to me.
As soon as I had found the key to Shaun’s, placed under a bench outside her flat, I breathed a sigh of relief and felt a wave of thankfulness sweep over me.
Finally.
The non-stop travel from America and the loss of my night and sleep had started to wear on me and all I wanted to do was close my eyes and just be.
But it didn’t last long.
Wandering the mean streets of Poplar
By the time I got to Shaun’s flat in London, my backpack and messenger bag were brutally weighing me down.
Like I knew they would.
I just hadn’t expected it to happen so soon.
I had wondered through the Poplar area of town for nearly two hours before I successfully found Shaun’s home. It wasn’t her directions that were poor, it was the person following them had a serious case of travel brain.
D Travels 'Round 