Turkey

After working hard in Israel I felt rejuvenated and ready to take on Turkey. After my Egypt experience my hackles were up and I was as prepared as I could be. However, Turkey came as a big surprise. I wasn't prepared for how westernized, modern and clean it was. I should have known better though. As has often been my experience, the countries I go to with the lowest expectations come out on top.

The day I booked my plane ticket there had been a bombing in Istanbul. It was the beginning of Ramadan and apparently these occurrences increase during this time. But I was not to be deterred. After all, the real probability of me being caught up in something like that is so slim it makes fears unfounded. And if I am, so it is my destiny. I’d rather go out with a bang anyhow than die a slow, painful death or live to the point that both my memory and dignity are gone.

Turkey is very much a 21st Century, first world country. It is beautiful, modern and it is clean. Very clean. Ok, not Germany or Denmark clean but certainly cleaner than many countries I’ve been to. Plan to leave your shoes at the door before entering a private residence in this country because Turks keep spotless homes. The landscaping in the parks, and even along the highway, is surprisingly creative, artistic and ornate. I’d love to know what their annual budget is for this. The mosques are stunning and the call to prayer is actually sung live. Plus the Turkish baths are fantastic! Turks are educated and are not Arabs, yet many still have what I call for lack of a better term, that Arab mentality. They can be a little annoying when you walk by as they try to get you to come in their shop, they like to barter, they think because you are a single woman that you are in need of a man and, they still try to rip you off just because you’re a tourist. However harassment was minimal and the lessons learned are: don't be too trusting, never accept an offer to get a beer with a stranger, get prices up front- even in restaurants- and check the price on the cash register (I found they like to round up if you just take their word for it).

Istanbul is the seventh largest city in the world by area and has a population of 14 million people. It’s many skyscrapers, modern facilities and shops rival the most modern US city. An enormous metropolis, it is divided into three parts: the Asian side which is more locals and has a lively nightlife and, the European side which is divided into two parts. I got a kick out of the realization that I could literally go back and forth between two continents, in the same city, with just a short, 20-minute ferry ride.

Sultanahmet is the area where the iconic photos of Istanbul are taken and films are made. There are many domed mosques there with their towering minarets as well as most of the tourist sights, including the grand bazaar and the spice bazaar. Both are geared toward tourists and have higher prices than elsewhere in the city. And like most bazaars, it's the same twenty things being sold in a couple hundred shops. Although I must admit, the rugs in Turkey are the most beautiful that I've seen in all my travels and they also have beautiful painted plates and mosaic lamps. There is a lot of glittery, gold jewelry and the art work is quite nice too.

Across the bridge is Beyoglu where, with one look around, you can see the obvious European influence. It has a better vibe too as there are more tourists, shops, restaurants, bars and a big pedestrian street. I was fortunate that my first full day there I got a cool bunk-mate from Australia and on the walking tour the following day we met a couple nice guys from India. With them I spent a couple fun days exploring quite a bit of the city. We went to the tower for a beautiful view of the city and toured the stunning Dolmabahce Palace. Probably one of my favorites. It’s not big and gaudy like Versailles, nor are the gardens expansive, but it goes right up to the sea and is tastefully decorated throughout with all original items.

Cappadocia was my next destination. An area famous for its fairy chimneys. It was the only other place I had on my list for this country and it is definitely a DO NOT MISS destination. I chose the $20 plane trip rather than the 18-hour bus ride. The town I was staying in is 80 km away from the airport and a couple very kind bus drivers ensured I got to the bus station that would take me to my destination. Once there I stopped in a shop to get some information on activities and guided tours in the area and to try and figure out where my hotel was. The young kid helping me offered to drive me there. Little did I know it would be on an ATV. We ended up doing quite a tour of the town and surrounding area which was fantastic. I even got to drive for a while but I preferred to be passenger so I could enjoy the view. But as most things that must be too good to be true, he had an ulterior motive. I never felt threatened, just annoyed and, with a gentle smack on the head I told him he was inappropriate. He was then very apologetic.

I did the spectacular yet touristy hot air balloon ride because you have to. There is no better way to see the area than from the air. I spent one day on a tour bus going to the ancient underground city, walking through a beautiful canyon and enjoying the stunning overlook of Pigeon Valley and spent the next two days exploring the incredible ash mounds on my own. Part of the attraction of the area is that there are many homes, churches, tombs, even a monastery, dug into these ash mounds. By the fourth day I felt i’d seen it all but decided to wander around anyhow and realized it is the kind of place where everywhere you go the formations are different and so unique you really can't get enough. But I wanted to see more of this amazing country and decided to continue on.

Pamukkale, translated as cotton castle, is a half day of activity but definitely a must see. The calcium build up from the natural hot springs reaches up to 100 meters high and is such a special thing to enjoy. Shoes must be removed before walking on them and the wet, white surface is not only not slippery but it is gentle on your feet. The water is so clear and blue and just the right temperature. An absolutely stunning setting. The most tourists I saw in Turkey were here and it is probably because all the cruise ships do day trips here. Still, despite all the crowd, it is quite special to sit in the pools and look around at the valley below. I’ve discovered that I need to take more time-outs. When I feel exhausted from the tolls of travel I find a beautiful area to stop and meditate for 15-20 minutes and when I'm finished I have an attitude adjustment. I'm more appreciative of my situation and tourists don't annoy me so much. At the top of the springs is a museum. For less than $2 you can walk through an ancient Roman bath house and look at many well preserved reliefs and sarcophagus's among other ancient civilization relics such as pottery and jewelry. The thing that puts this small museum above others is that, with the reliefs, they tell you the entire mythological story that you are looking at. I really appreciated that.

Pillow Fight! There are so many more incredible places to visit in this country but I wanted to get back to Istanbul for the Couchsurfing pillow fight Tournament complete with rules and a referee. It was taking place in different cities all around Europe and sounded like something I had to attend. I was the only female that fought but they weren’t easy on me. It was immense fun and exhausting! We probably fought for an hour, with a few breaks in there. In the end, yours truly became Turkey’s CS Pillow Fight Champion! It was good fun all around and afterward a group of us went to dinner together at a local’s restaurant.

Bursa! One of the best things to come out of the pillow fight was an invitation by one of the attendees to come stay at his home in Bursa. Even though I'd never heard of the place before, I said “yes!” My last two days in Turkey were spent in this UNESCO site just a two hour ferry ride south of Istanbul. It was the first major city of the Ottoman Empire, established in 1335-1363. The grand mosque with its 20 domes has beautiful Arabic calligraphy throughout and the green tomb was lovely as well. The city museum was a great deal. For less than $1 I enjoyed a fun museum showing the history of they city from architecture to culture. I went to the home of my “host”, Bora, whom, at the end of two days, I now consider a friend.

In the traditional Turkish way, he lives with his family. His sister and her four month old son were visiting and his mother welcomed me with open arms. She is a great cook and filled me with her delicious traditional Turkish food. Bora had to work during the days so he gave me a map of the city and marked all the things I should see, each of which was a great suggestion. The family observes Ramadan yet in the morning, his mother would get up, prepare me breakfast of cheese, fruit and vegetables and walk me to the shared taxi or bus and speak to the driver to make sure he let me out in the right place. I mention the Ramadan because, not only do they not eat or drink anything-not even water!- from sunrise to sunset, they get up in the wee-hours of the night to eat before sunrise so they can survive this grueling demand. So people are also sleep deprived. So when “Mom” gets up early to make me breakfast or Bora stays up until very late to show me his twinkling city from the mountain or take me to a Whirling Dervish show, I recognize the hidden part of the gift. There were so many ways they showed me kindness I can't begin to list them all but it was above and beyond anything I expected.

The night before I left, terrorists attacked the main airport, leaving 45 dead and hundreds injured. A sad day indeed. And now, a country already bereft of tourists will take an even deeper financial hit. The geography of this country is spectacular and in Bursa I found such warm hospitality that it pains me to see the terrorists win. However I’d like to thank everyone that sent me messages of concern about my welfare. It means a lot to me to know you care and are thinking of me. And since writing this there was also a coup staged by the government, which is turning it from a democracy into a totalitarian state. The people I spoke with were concerned about this man and now it's quite clear that their suspicions were correct. It's quite unfortunate and I worry for the people there. And I'm sad for you because you wont be able to experience this wonderful country anytime soon. When things quiet down I hope you go to Turkey. Rent a car, drive all around this incredible country and let it surpass all your expectations.

Romania- Wild and Wonderful!

For the first time in my travels I jumped around like the stereotypical American tourist: I hit four countries in less than two weeks. I went from the south of France to Prague to Budapest to Brasov, Romania.

In Nice I celebrated as I joined the locals watch their country beat Germany in a very exciting football match. After the win everyone was in good spirits and celebrated but without too much chaos other than filling the Fountaine du Soleil with singing, splashing, flag waving humans; harmless fun. Therefore it was heartbreaking to me when, on Bastille Day, a psychopath terrorist drove his truck through that exact place I'd been with friends just one week earlier, killing 84 and wounding hundreds more.

Prague was out of the way but I knew if I didn't go now there was no telling when I'd have a chance to see it. And too many people raved about it for me to ignore it. Understandably so too! What a special place! I can't believe it took me so long to go there. Everywhere you look is beauty. Never before have I been to a city that was so clearly both medieval and Renaissance. The narrow streets, the sounds of music played on traditional instruments, the sweet cinnamon smells of baking trdelnik wafted through the air, the impressive, nearly 700 year-old Charles Bridge, the dancing clock tower and, the ancient Jewish quarter...all of it fantastic! And it is even more beautiful at night!! I was told that Hitler loved Prague so much that is why it was spared during the war. That even included the unharmed Jewish quarter which he intended to preserve as a museum of sorts showing "how the Jews used to live." Prague certainly deserves more time than I gave it but so much to see, so little time.

Budapest was next. Nicer than I expected but still gritty (apparently my hostel was located on prostitute row). However the thermal baths were wonderful (although I still prefer those in Turkey), and viewing the Parliament at night and eating delicious langos were worth the entire trip.

Romania was another country that had been highly recommend by several people I'd met in my travels. In typical fashion I did no research but looked at a map and saw there are quite a few castles so I figured I'd do a castle tour of Romania. Little did I know what I was getting into. The country surprised and impressed me at every turn and I fell in love with it immediately. A passion that only grew with the more time I spent here. Here are some of the things that surprised me:

1. Alternating fields of sunflowers and corn can be found throughout. I even saw a large field of solar panels tucked in there.

2. It's more developed than I expected yet still very traditional, which gives the country it's charm. You can buy anything and everything you need, food is plentiful, roads are good and modern cars are everywhere yet it's not uncommon to see horse drawn carts on the main roads or hay fields harvested with scythes. There are also villages that still have a central well as their main water source.

3. Gypsies! I'm not surprised that they are here but that they are everywhere! As an American I have a romantic image of gypsies so when I saw a band of them on the move in their horse drawn carts filled with their children and household items, I got quite excited. They still wear the traditional dress with scarves and skirts just as media images have portrayed except that they are a bit more...rotund...than I expected. Romanians, on the other hand, see them as a source of shame and embarrassment.

4. It's more expensive than I expected. Certainly Romania is less expensive than many countries in the western world, but I thought it would be cheaper than it actually is. In fact, many travelers I spoke with felt the same way. And, according to some Romanians, the prices have gone up in the last five years but not their wages.

5. Although I'm a vegetarian, I pretty much have a live and let live philosophy. Yet the amount of meat they consume in this country is, quite frankly, revolting. From what I've observed they eat little else besides meat, pork fat, bread, cheese and polenta with cheese; maybe some tomatoes, onions, cabbage or corn but no substantial amount of real vegetables in their diet. I couldn't even find green veggies in the markets and only frozen in the supermarket. And from the looks of their bellies, it's obvious. They also smoke a lot. I suspect this is why they have the shortest life expectancy in the EU and the top five causes of death are 1)coronary heart disease 2)stroke 3)hypertension 4)liver disease 5)lung cancer
http://www.worldlifeexpectancy.com/romania-coronary-heart-disease

6. Restaurant service is incredibly fast. Too much so actually. Although it's nice to quickly get a menu and drink, as soon as you are finished they whisk away your dishes. I'm used to slower service and, usually, actually enjoy being ignored once I get my food. Having the dishes there makes sitting at the table, typing away on my iPad, seem less like I'm just occupying their space.

7. Although I wouldn't go so far as to say everyone here is nice, I will say that most everyone I met has been exceptional. From the hostel workers in Brasov to everyone in the mountains that adopted me, fed me and invited me to join them. Also, the best hostel I stayed in to-date was the Kismet Dao in Brasov. I was also surprised by how many people speak English in Romania. Even if they won't speak it they often understand it.

8. The Romanian language is actually one of the Latin romance languages and sounds similar to Italian in the melodic way they speak. In fact, Latin was spoken in Romania until the early 1800's.

9. No two homes are alike! Nowhere, anywhere. The shapes, style, colors, designs...trapezoids, castle style, rectangles...pink, purple, yellow, green, blue, cream...some with tile, decorative paint or reliefs, and some just plain, but always with orange tile roofs. In Sibiu you are always being watched as the roofs have eyes!

10. There is no lack of things to do in Romania. Multiple castles (including Dracula's), monasteries, walled cities, and fortified citadels are nice to tour, then you have countless mountain trails to hike, caves to explore, salt mines to visit, wild raspberries to pick, twisty roads to drive on and charming villages to meander through. For the first time in two years of travel I wished I had a tent and sleeping bag; it's that kind of country. Oh, the places I could go… And if you're here at the right time you can take in the four-day electronic music festival in Cluj or the rock festival in the mountains near Brasov.

11. Perhaps the most surprising thing to me about Romania is how utterly beautiful it is. The rolling hills, green mountains, well marked trails, countless rivers, waterfalls, glacial lakes and charming villages repeatedly took my breath away. The numerous mountain springs provided fresh drinking water with no need to filter. There is no urban sprawl so the cities are condensed and the rest of the country is wild and wonderful.

I was so happy to be back in the mountains and I met so many wonderful people there; friends and families that invited me to join them for food, sightseeing, camping, etc. Each time I had to say good bye to these kind and hospitable people I'd met it was harder and harder, nearly bringing me to tears with the last family with whom I parted ways. I think it means I've been traveling too long. Although I meet so many lovely people and am not often alone, I'm starting to feel lonely and a bit tired. As absurd as it may sound, thank God for FB! Honestly I don't know if I'd have survived this long without the virtual connection to everyone. I really enjoy keeping up with your lives and appreciate all the support you've given me along the way. Hopefully I will re-charge during the month of September in Slovenia while I work in a beautiful valley at the base of the alps with horses and dogs and possibly even some people.

For now, I will continue on to Croatia and evaluate everything in September.

Israel

Israel is a small country that leaves a big impression. I’ve been trying to figure out how to convey everything without writing a book. Someone asked me how long I was going to be in Israel and I said three to four weeks. They wondered what I would do for so long in such a little country where it takes six hours to go North to South and one hour to go East to West. Who would have ever thought that this tiny country of eight million people, practically an island with its high, razor-wire fences at all borders, would capture my heart. My second favorite country!

For many that come here it has immense religious significance. This was made disturbingly clear as I watched a man at a piece of the Mount where Jesus supposedly stood, kiss and caress it so much that he was practically making out with it. I'm not a religious person but I have great respect for the entire history of this country and definitely believe that the work of a higher power, along with all the Jews, is protecting this sacred land. In Jerusalem you can feel an energy. It’s not something that I can articulate but it`s almost tangible. Plus, Jerusalem at night is magical!

For years I’ve said I could easily be Jewish. I love the food, the way the Judaism is less of a religion and more a way of life, the cerebralness of the Jewish people I know in The States. As I traveled and met Israelis I became more and more eager to visit their country: the land with the highest concentration of hot guys! However I never expected Israel to be so wonderful.

It is a place of contrasts. A haven for vegetarians and vegans alike yet kebab stands are everywhere. Israelis (and when I say Israelis I’m referring to the Jewish population) really just want peace. They would like to live their lives without concerns of their neighbors shooting or bombing them yet they are always alert, aware and prepared. There are areas in their country that they can't walk through yet there are cities where Jews and Arabs live together in peace, even working with one another. Despite their small numbers and need for solidarity, the Jews discriminate against other Jews. Yet a helping is readily given when needed. At a glance, the people appear unapproachable but if you do talk with them they are incredibly warm, helpful and generous. And it's not just me. Every foreigner I’ve talked with uses the same adjectives. Then there is the diversity of the land: in 20,770 sq. km (8,019 sq. miles, slightly larger than Massachusetts) you will find vast desert, sea, waterfalls, rivers, lakes and tree-covered mountains. Did you know that, at 420m below sea level, the Dead Sea is the lowest point on land?

I hate to admit it but Egypt really did a number on me. Despite the normal-ness of Dahab, it took me several days to decompress and let my hackles down. I walked the one kilometer across the border from Egypt into Eilat. The harassment continued right up to the end. The border control officer teasingly refused to return my passport as he asked me if I wanted an Egyptian husband and telling me how beautiful I am. I was not amused. I need to learn how to lie so I can tell these predators YES when they ask me if I'm married. In contrast, Israel border control officers couldn't care less about my marital status. I passed through six different check points and they were all very official with a no-nonsense air about them. Yet I still managed to invoke curiosity and the hint of a smile from one of the female agents that was interrogating me about where I was going, what I was doing, etc.

You have no idea how wonderful it was to see that "Welcome to Israel" sign! Signs of western civilization were immediately recognizable: toilet paper in the bathrooms, clean, walkable sidewalks and nice cars. It was Passover week and the entire country was on holiday. Eilat is a lovely beach town and I’d just been two weeks in an oppressive, harassing, dirty, dilapidated, crowded, chaotic, nearly third-world country. So, as I walked on the sidewalk parallel to the Red Sea, I breathed a sigh of happiness to see so many beautiful men and women in swimsuits, music playing, lots of fun being had. Not one car horn beeped, not one comment or harassing word made toward me. Nobody asked where I was from, if I needed help or pressured me to visit their business. The civility of the country brought me to tears. It may sound A bit dramatic but it's not an uncommon reaction for single women upon returning to westernized countries after long periods of time in North African ones.

Hitchhiking in Israel is really easy and safe so I did a lot of it. Never have I had such an epic experience as I did from Eilat to Tel Aviv. After about three minutes of standing there with my sign, two young ladies stopped said they were going my way but making some stops along the way and it would be evening before we arrived. I was welcome to join them or they could drop me off at another point. I hopped in and decided to join them.

The first stop was a ``swimming pool somebody told them about and had shown them `the location on a map. There is nothing but desert between Eilat and Tel Aviv although when the road splits we took the one that goes to Jerusalem. About 45 minutes into our drive we turned onto some dirt path and drove a couple bumpy kilometers around the barren, brown mountains until we arrived at the "pool". I couldn't believe my eyes! A large, reedy lake in the middle of the desert! Fewer than a dozen people were there, swimming, canoeing and picnicking. We changed into our swimwear and jumped in. Then one of the guys invited me to go canoeing. So there I was, paddling around a lake in the middle of the desert! What a special moment! When I woke up that morning I thought I would be taking the bus to Tel Aviv. Never did I imagine that my day would turn out like this. How lucky was I that these girls picked me up?!

Our next stop was the Dead Sea. It is truly one of the most amazing experiences I’ve ever had! I won't even begin to describe it; I don't want to spoil it for you. I will say, if you haven't been yet, put it at the top of your list!

It was dark when they dropped me off in Tel Aviv and my friend Tomer, whom I'd met in Chile, picked me up and off we went with a couple of his friends to a Mimouna. It was the end of Passover and Moroccan Jews have a tradition of throwing a Mimouna, a celebration where they eat all kinds of sweets, beer and other non-kosher foods. There is music, (a d.j. in this case,) dancing and at this huge home, easily a couple hundred people were at the party. Again, feeling incredibly fortunate.

Tomer's apartment was in the center of the city and as such, it was the hang-out hub for all his and his roommates friends. Sleep could not be gotten before 2:00 but it was good fun, especially the sleep over when eight people fit in the two bedroom flat. Sleeping bags, mattress and couch, five of us covered the entire living room floor! I thoroughly enjoyed meeting and hanging out with all these lovely, young people.

Despite it being one of the most expensive countries I've been to, it was immediately clear to me that I wanted to stay in Israel. I went north to Tiberias and the Kineret, aka the Sea of Galilee, where I volunteered at a hostel for three weeks. Not the best place for me people-wise as it is filled with the ultra religious, both Orthodox Jews and Christian tourists. But it is a lovely area and I met some nice people and enjoyed the surrounding area. And the hostel organized trips to the Jordan River were incredible. What a stunning place. The blue-green river is lined with eucalyptus trees and date palms. There were rope swings and a big tree that hung over the river which we easily walked up and jumped off. It was a really special place.

For once I had good timing. While I was here I also got to experience: Holocost Rememberence Day, Memorial Day and Israel Independence Day. The first was just a two minute siren that sounded throughout the country. When it goes off you stop what you are doing, even if driving on the highway, and stand in silence. The second is also a solem day, not just an excuse to party. When the alarm sounds in the evening pretty much everything is shut down until 11:00 the following morning, where you once again stop and stand in silence for a minute until the siren has ended. Then Indepencence Day begins and that is a PARTAY!

Although Tiberias isn't my favorite place in Israel, it felt good to be planted for a bit. On a couple of my days off I went to the far north--Odem where I picked cherries and raspberries in the only place in Israel where they grow, hiked around and found myself less than a kilometer from the Syria border. I went to Jerusalem where I stayed with a kind and generous woman I’d met in the hostel in Eilat. She even invited me back to stay a week if I could. (I did go back but only for a few more days.) In Haifa I stayed with a woman whom I met briefly at Tomer's apartment. We had a lot of fun together in this cool beach town. These people (Tomer included) had barely met me and invited me in their homes, fed me, gave me keys and trusted me while they were off working or out of town. Just an example of the kindness and generosity of the Israeli people. Whenever I get settled some place I truly hope they will visit so I may return the hospitality. Actually that goes for everyone I’ve met along the way and even before my travels.

I couldn't stay in Israel forever but I wasn't ready to leave either. The longer I stayed, the less time I’d have in Turkey. After Egypt though, I wasn’t too upset about not having more time in another Muslim country. So I went off to the middle of nowhere in the West Bank to volunteer on a date farm. Even though they aren't ripe until August, there is still plenty of work to be done. The two men who run it, along with a grape farm, are the nicest people I've ever worked for. Always with a smile on their face, making sure we drank enough water (it was desert after all and it would get to 46 degrees by 11:00 in the morning!) and if we wanted to do something else than what we were doing, we just had to say so. We started work at either 6:00 or 6:30 in the morning and were usually finished by around noon, before it got really hot. It was very physical work but very fun. Trimming date trees, gathering a flat bed of rocks to put around a small swimming pool, pulling weeds and pruning the grapevines, building a warehouse, mixing concrete, loading and unloading a truck full of steel poles and, unloading three flatbeds of volcanic dirt--one five gallon bucket at a time. By the time I left I was bruised and scraped from head to toe but it was the best work experience I’ve ever had. My body enjoyed the workout and I enjoyed seeing the daily results of my labor. I felt rejuvenated!

There is so much more to say about my experiences and the people I met but I've already written so much. Still, even after six weeks, there was so much I hadn't done, so many places left to see and hikes to do. Unfortunately late spring is not the time to be hiking in the desert. I didn't want to leave but I did want to see Turkey so it was time to go. But first another stop in Tel Aviv to spend a couple days ogling all the hot guys on the beach that was alive with people playing paddle ball, swimming and surfing.

Consider yourself forewarned Israel, I will be back!

Egypt & Jordan

Egypt. The Great Pyramids. A bucket list item. Unfortunately Egypt was not a good experience for me and I've been told that my writing is much better when it is positive. Since I found this to be a dirty, noisy, chaotic country and a culture that I couldn't get away from fast enough, this will be mostly a photo blog post.

The positives are: being in the presence of such magnificent, ancient history, the food, some of the individual people I met and, the guesthouse in the Nubian village I stayed at in Aswan. I loved the children there and had the honor of attending day one of a traditional three day Nubain wedding. I also really enjoyed Dahab in South Sinai-it is the best part of Egypt because it is nothing like Egypt. It was definitely a loss for Israel and a score for Egypt when they gave it over to make peace in 1979. Diving in the Red Sea there was incredible and so were my accommodations with the morning view of the sun rising over Saudi Arabia and afternoon entertainment of watching camels getting bathed in the sea.

Jordan was a bit of a surprise. It's very expensive and the exchange rate is horrible: $0.70 to the Jordanian Dinar. I'm baffled at how the dollar is weaker but I guess that's a call the King gets to make. Although I only went to two cities, I was impressed by how clean it was and how harassment was mostly contained to blatant staring. But reminders that Islam rules here are very clear when you go to the beach and the men are wearing swim trunks and women can only be seen in full burqas and hijab despite the 42 degree temps. They even have to swim in them!

Petra, Jordan--one of the New Wonders of the World. Another bucket list item but the lost city almost remained lost to me because the cost is so prohibitive. The three-day two night trip to Jordan set me back almost $300-and that was on the cheap-but the Rose City is truly a sight to see! Photos can't do justice to the beautiful, swirling colors of the sandstone nor can they capture the magical mystery of this 3,000 year old city.

Tunisia- The Unexpected Country

Tunisia was never in my plans. Never even on my radar. I had zero desire in going there but it was significantly cheaper to get to Cairo from Tunisia than from anywhere in Italy so I figured I'd spend a few days and check off another country. However, by the time I boarded the ferry for Africa, my interest was piqued thanks to the recent trip and photos by my traveling American friend. As I walked through the last passport check in Tunis the Tunisian police gave me a big smile and a genuine, "Welcome to Tunisia!" How very kind I thought. In fact, this "Welcome" happened several times throughout my travels here. Unfortunately, since the 2011 revolution and even more so since recent events, tourism in the country is way down and unemployment is way up. At the end of 2015 it was 15.4% but the latest terrorist acts have deterred tourists even further, resulting in the closing of hotels and causing the loss of the Peugeot contract. Thus, current unemployment is even higher but no updated figures were available at the time of writing. Naturally they are very happy for every tourist that comes. The nice thing, however, is that they don't look at you like a wallet as they do in other N. African countries; they let you browse without harassment. Their culture is warm, welcoming and accommodating. They genuinely care about your experience. My new friends and acquaintances seemed to take personally how I was treated in their country-which was nothing short of wonderful!

I did my third Couchsurfing stint in Tunis. My host helped me map out an itinerary to fit my time frame and by the time I rose in the morning, he had arranged for me to join a Tunisian man and his visiting Argentinian friend for their one week road trip through the south--the same one I had planned. I was leaving in less than two hours!

Khalil and Cecilia were my new travel companions. We loaded up the rental car and set off for Khalil's friends' home in Takrouna where we would have dinner and sleep for the night. It didn't even occur to me that I would be spending the next 200 hours in very close proximity to these total strangers-eating, sleeping, driving-and that our personalities might not mesh. As it turned out I made two new, very dear, friends. What started out to be a sightseeing trip quickly turned into a true cultural experience. We looked on as a decorated camel walked by in a parade announcing an upcoming wedding and observed a funeral procession through the streets. We often stayed in homes of his friends and ate a lot of homemade olive oil, played cards (Shkobba or Scoppa in Italian) and watched sunsets from rooftops. We were warmly welcomed everywhere and I was engrossed with the interactions between Tunisians.

Khalil is a funny, easygoing person who meets everyone with a genuine smile and the beautiful greeting of "Assalam Alikom" translated as "Peace upon you" and the greeting is always returned. In Islam, everyone is family, all the men brothers. If I didn't know better I would have believed this to be a literal statement after witnessing the familiar interactions among everyone. At a random food stand he walked into the kitchen and helped himself to the fries. When I remarked on this the man said, "It's no problem, it is the Tunisian way. He is my brother." In the hotel the manager put his arm around Khalil like they were old friends. When we asked what time was check out or breakfast or dinner the answer was always, "As you like." I found a shoe repair man to fix my flip flops. When I tried to pay he said no, it was free. Of course I gave him something but the gesture was unforgettable. One morning when we wanted to get a cup of tea, the hostel owner walked a few minutes to show us a nice cafe, joined us and bought our drinks. His friend in Tozeur always wore a big smile and greeted everyone he encountered everywhere he went. I didn't need to speak Arabic to understand as he approached a short-tempered father and, with a few gently spoken words, easily diffused the man's anger toward his young son. "Love is my religion," he said to me. My first night in Tunis I visited the home of a young lady whose friends and family were visiting and all welcomed me with open arms and a big heart, even providing me with a cell phone to use for my travel in their country! When I went back to her home after the road trip I felt like part of the family. There were no formalities and the laughter and joking was easy and natural as I recalled the adventures of the past week. It's just the way they are. It's the Tunisian way!

Unfortunately our eight days together was ending. But the good news was my trip was extended because my Austrian girlfriend was arriving in Tunis on Sunday for work. We've been friends for 25 years and hadn't seen each other in 10! What kind of forces in the universe were at work that we finally get to meet up here?! It was a really wonderful reunion though only for two days. But that's how life is: you take the moments you can get. The extension also meant that I could attend the monthly couch surfing weekend event in central Tunisia.

Eight cars and 32 people caravanned to Saliana for a weekend getaway. As we drove we left the flat, semi-arid land of Tunis behind in exchange for mountains where rosemary and thyme grow wild among the pines and green fields and groves of blooming cherry trees fill the valley of central Tunisia. It was a mixed group of people of all ages, from 20 to 76. Most were Tunisian but there were also people from Egypt, Libya, Turkey, Ukraine, Germany and France. They were students, a retired engineer, unemployed and employed people in jobs as varied as hospitality, life coaching and conflict resolution. Everyone spoke perfect English. We slept in mixed dorms, laughed a lot and all got along perfectly. We were the only ones in this mountain albergue and I felt like I was at summer camp as we hiked, played games, climbed trees, hopped over creeks, toured a Berber village and explored 3,000 year old Phoenician ruins.

Yes, I did all the fascinating touristy things: saw the well preserved ancient Roman Amphitheater of El Jemm, Star Wars sets, various Berber villages and the expansive, UNESCO cemetery in Mahdia. I saw mosaics being made, gazed upon beautiful art and architecture and slept in a cave hotel. I hiked in the most beautiful desert mountain oasis with a river and waterfall. In the Sahara I rode camels, watched the moon rise, danced in the firelight to a drum beat by our Bedouin guide and slept under the Milky Way. The beauty of silvery olive trees and flowering almond trees covered the landscape and I drank in the scent of orange blossoms. All these things were wonderful but secondary to the people I met, learning about their life, their thoughts, ambitions, concerns and desires. My 'few days' had turned into 15 and I still wasn't ready to leave. Tunisia will forever hold a special place in my heart.

Southern Italy- Ciao Amore Mio!

Italy--Where do I begin? It's my last post after seven weeks in this diverse country. Despite the average of one sunny day (and kilo gained) per week I still love this country. It's the place that converted this die-hard mushroom hater into a lover of truffles. A country that, despite my desire to never step foot in yet another church, drew me in and impressed me over and over again. The land of delicious food, fashionable men and beautiful women that are warm and affable. I hate the idea of leaving, especially with so much unseen!

I suppose I should start with my dear friend, Antonio, who turned out to be My guardian angel of sorts. Throughout my travels from Rome to Sicily he connected me with friends, friends of friends, and couch surfing hosts that met up with me and gave me the opportunity to hang out with locals and experience local music, food and sights. They were generous with suggestions on where to go and what to do. Unfortunately the weather and lack of a car prevented me from doing many of them, but they have been saved for my next visit! Not only was it very kind of Antonio to think of me and make the effort to initiate these connections but it also speaks volumes about his friends and their friends, Italian people and their hospitality. A big Grazie Millie to you all!!

Southern Italy begins in Naples. There seems to be an invisible line separating the South from the rest of the country. I've been told the government doesn't care about the south but it seems that, although very proud, the locals don't either. Naples and Sicily are, by far, the dirtiest places I've been to in Europe, which is surprising considering how proud they are of their respective cities. I spent an unprecedented eight days in Napoli. Not so much because I loved it but in part because of the lousy weather, the great hostel and my need to just take a break for a few days. However there really is quite a bit to do. Pompeii, Mt. Vesuvius and Ercoleos were a day trip as was the Amalfi Coast. There are three castles, a church with the most wonderful sculptures I've seen to date, the Cemetiere Della Fontanelle--a cave cemetery filled with bones and skulls-- and the Serino Aqueducts. These 12 km of Ancient Greek aqueducts had been closed for 150 or so years once cholera had been found in the water then drained and reopened during WWII to be used as bunkers for the towns people. Now one km of them are open for tourists and experimental grounds for growing plants in that environment. A city known for its pizza, I ate more than my fair share. A whole one can be purchased for less than four euro and was just the right size. It can also be eaten fried, which is soooo good! I gave up gelato in favor of babas--a very light, super moist, rum cake. The sweets in Italy are fantastic!! They vary from region to region and taste much better than they look, which is the opposite of my experience through most of my travels.

Too many places to go into detail yet I didn't go to half of the places I wanted to go to. Next time I'm renting a car! I visited Bari, where I ate the best food in all of Italy and enjoyed the fun company of a friend of Antonio's friend as well as many of her friends. Did you get all those 'friend' connections haha! I joined a couple Dutch ladies for a very fun day in amazing Matera--a must see! Polignano and Lecce were fantastic despite most everything being closed due to low season. The upside to traveling off-season is that hotel rooms can be obtained for as cheap as hostels but I get my own room and toilet!! Tropea was a fantastic little village on the sea where I briefly met two wonderful American women whom I ended up spending a day with at the Valle dei Templi in Agrigento, Sicily.

Sicily has a completely different feel than the rest of Italy, which at this point I can't quite articulate because I really haven't had a moment to stop and think about it. But there is so much beauty to see on this island, especially if you have a car. Catania is a nice town within an hour of Mt. Etna, the tallest and most active volcano in Europe. It took 1.5 hours to walk 500 meters up the snow capped mountain to the highest point we could go to without proper equipment. Even though there were too many clouds for a view, it was well worth the effort. Agrigento is another popular destination for the 2,600 year old ancient Greek ruins of Valle dei Templi. 1,300 hectares big, each temple is dedicated to a different mythological God and some are so well preserved. WOW!

My last stop in Italy was in Palermo. Perhaps, like the rain on my last day in Venice, it's good that this dirty, unhappy place was my final destination or else I probably wouldn't want to leave. There were some bright spots-like my couch surfing host, good music, a couple churches and the best gelato- but overall a city that I would have been fine with skipping. However it is the port town from where the ferries to and from Africa dock and it was here that I crossed paths with my American friend with whom I'd traveled around Morocco. He'd just come from Tunisia and gave me some great tips on where to go and stay, including a couch surfing host in Tunis. Armed with this information I boarded the ferry, unscathed by my Schengen Zone over-stay, and said Arrivedirche Italia!

Central Italy

A friend said to me, "Do you know why Florence is so beautiful? Because the whole city is a museum." How very true! Every building is beautiful. The numerous churches, fountains, statues and museums are works of art. Not to mention the enormous and stunning Santa Maria del Fiore Cathedral (aka The Dumo). With its beautiful green, white and pink marble exterior towering over the city it is difficult not to be awe struck.

In this city of Italian Renaissance I met up with Rowan, the Australian I'd met in Morocco. We spent three days playing tourist, doing a walking tour, visiting Michelangelo's David-so much more impressive in person!- and climbing up the 463 steps to the top of the dome to get a fantastic view of the city. It took a solid hour to get to the top and if this is low season I don't want to see it in high! In the Uffizi Gallery we gazed upon great works by the "masters" such as Rembrandt, Michelangelo, Leonardo Da Vinci, Giotto, Raphael. Botticelli's "The Birth of Venus" was a big draw. They were all great however my personal favorite was by an artist I knew nothing of: Allegory of Virtue Rescued by Love from Ignorance and Prejudice by Jacopo Ligozzi. Not necessarily displaying any better talent than the others, I'm sure it was because of the subject that I favored it. 450 years later civilization still suffers the same struggle. Evidently evolution is an incredibly slow process.

Rowan and I decided to split a rental car for five days and explore Tuscany despite the rain. It really is the best way to see a country and get off the tour bus path. Without a plan beyond the first day and a half we set off. We avoided the highway whenever possible and drove through the twisty, hilly Tuscan roads flanked by vineyards and dotted with castles and walled cities. Our first stop was to the very cool, free Vespa museum in Pontedera where we met the 87 year old Giuseppe Cau, a once very famous Vespa racer who won a gold medal against drivers from all over the world. Still very alert and sharp it was a true honor to meet him.

We arrived at San Gimignano just as the rain stopped and spent an hour walking around this incredibly well preserved and beautiful medieval walled city at the top of a hill. Truly impressive but we had a lot a ground to cover and couldn't stay long. As soon as we got back to the car the rain started again; a blessing that we acknowledged.

The drive to Montepulciano, where we spent the night, was stunning. The town itself is fantastic and very much like San Gimignano but I prefer the former. We had lunch in charming Cortona, where Under The Tuscan Sun was filmed, drove to Lake Trasimeno and spent the night in Assisi. It was a town both of us were certain we wanted to visit. Not a religious person, St. Francis takes exception to my feelings about the subject. He led a humble life of service and 'A Simple Prayer' has stuck with me and been my favorite since I first read it decades ago.

Assisi is fantastic! Thanks to it being low season we got a fantastic deal on a room in the city center. It even included a wonderful breakfast and tea time with cakes, biscuits et al. By far my favorite city in Tuscany, I wish we'd had more than half a day to explore it. The basilica is beautiful on the outside and powerful on the inside. 800 year old frescoes cover the walls and ceilings but their simplicity honors the Saint and there is an absence of gaudy pretense. After an hour of exploring the church and St. Francis's tomb I was overwhelmed by the impression it left on me.

Italy is covered in mountains so we decided to check out Gran Sasso, Italy's largest national park. I would not have been happy if this road trip ended without a decent hike. However neither of us was prepared for the cold! There were only two places for accommodation in this tiny, medieval village dating from the 1200's. The first one was like an apartment but expensive and run by a grumpy old man and the second was a tiny hobbit house with a very kind owner. Obviously we chose the later. And even though it never warmed up-I had an extra blanket, slept in all my clothes, even ran the hair dryer for 30 minutes at a time to warm the air in my room-I'm still happy with the decision to stay there. It was such a cute little place. I thought Rowan's room would be warmer since he was on the floor above but apparently he froze all night too. When we woke up in the morning a light snow had fallen and dusted the village with a white blanket. By mid-morning it had warmed up enough for me to go out and I really enjoyed exploring all around and going for a nice hike in the mountain. It wasn't long enough, I could have continued on for a few more hours at least but the car had to be in Rome by 5:00 so I didn't have all day. Feeling content with the morning but doleful that the trip was ending, we coasted down the windy mountain road toward civilization.

Due to numerous reports of trickery theft, Rome wasn't a city I was looking forward to but I had to respect the immense history of the place and vowed to make the best of it. It turned out to be fantastic!

First time around I only had one day so I went to Vatican City and spent four hours in the the vast museum and Sistine Chapel. St. Peter's basilica was closed so I got a gelato and walked to Via del Fori Imperiali and all the amazing Roman ruins around there. I could see the Colosseum from the top of the monument. Exhausted I went back to the hostel, arriving just in time to find my roommate researching where to get to the "best gelato in Rome". I invited myself to join him and the bonus was that it was near the Trevi Fountain. It was dusk when we arrived and the lit fountain was quite a sight to behold. Absolutely worth fighting the masses with narcissistic (selfie) sticks to get a decent spot for a photo.

Upon my return to the hostel again I got a FB message from Antonio-my Italian friend in Genova that I'd be seeing the following day-checking in on me, asking how I was enjoying Rome. I said it was great and that I'd only had two gelato to eat all day. A good pizza would make my day perfect. So he said, "O.k. Hold on." What??? Next thing I know, Antonio is hooking me up with his cousin who lived nearby! I hopped on the back of his motorbike and we cruised around the Eternal City at night. He showed me the ruins lit up at night and took me to places tourists don't know about. We rode to an authentic Italian restaurant and he ordered traditional dishes for me. I even got a little history lesson. Did you know Italy, as a country, is only approximately 150 years old?? A super nice guy and great conversationalist, my day couldn't have ended more perfectly! Thank you, Roberto!

Three weeks and a few kilo later, I returned to Rome. Unfortunately the cousin was laid up in bed with a freshly fractured leg. I hope he heals quickly. Rome is less sprawling than I expected yet it's amazing how much there is to see in such a small area. I spent three days wandering around this incredible city; the ancient history is almost tangible. It is everywhere! Too much to take photos of everything because almost everywhere you look is something ancient. At some point I just stopped. I stayed in a nice hostel with fun guests from the Southern Hemisphere: Uruguay, Argentina and Australia. Together we went to receive the Pope's blessing from the Vatican window on a Sunday and I saw him much more up-close a few days later as I was walking into S. Peters Basilica. It was unexpected and very exciting even if he was 30 meters away.

Without planning it, we all left the hostel on the same day, each going in different directions. Me, I was headed south to Naples, home of Pompeii, Mt. Vesuvius, and Pizza!! The food in Italy has been great! From the pesto and focaccia in the north to creamy truffle sauces in the central area and gelato everywhere, I was always able to find a good meal and it was starting to weigh on me. Literally! My belly had developed a jiggle that had disappeared after so long in all the meat-heavy countries. But I have no intentions to stop. I anticipate this will be the last country of good food until I get to Israel so I'm storing up ;-)

Northern Italy

Italy!! Just listening to this musical language and saying Grazie, Ciao and Buon Giorno in my best Italian accent makes me happy! How can you not love the country that brought us pizza, pesto and Pinocchio? A country where once "all roads lead to Rome" was a true statement. The birthplace of Julius Cesar, Michelangelo, Leonardo DiVinci, Vivaldi and Galileo! The inspiration for Shakespeare, Armani, Dante and toga parties to name a small few. I was experiencing a feeling of excitement for Europe that I hadn't felt since my very first overseas trip in 1989 and it was a wonderful feeling.

I flew into Rome because it was the cheapest option and only had one day there, which I'll tell about in the next post. The following day I hopped on the train for Genova to meet my Camino friend, Antonio. We had plans for Carnaval in Venice so I arrived a couple days early to check out his city. He had sent me rough directions taking me on a scenic route to his flat. From the train station I passed by beautiful fountains, walked down the grand Via XX September with its beautifully designed marble sidewalks, past the striped San Lorenzo cathedral to the boat-filled harbor before arriving at his door across from the university. What a great place! I certainly wasn't expecting Genova to be so interesting. The guidebook describes it as a "tough, cosmopolitan port", which is accurate. It has the grit that gives it the 'real feel' which, as you should know by now, I love. Enough grafitti and trash in the streets to know this isn't a prime tourist place; to me it is a hidden gem. Nestled at the foot of the Appennino mountains, it was obviously once home to a lot of nobility. There is an entire street of palaces, most of which have since been converted into expensive flats, banks, and other businesses. From the looks of the buildings, the surrounding hills also once housed a large amount of wealthy people. Christopher Columbus was born in Genova and his home is preserved as a tourist spot. I took Antonio's suggestion to "get lost and look up." It was the perfect advice. Between the small size and water to orient, it was impossible to actually get lost but the exploring was great. So many details everywhere! Grandeur within deterioration. I also enjoyed to 'go up and get lost'. In the hills surrounding the city center there is some great architecture, nice parks and beautiful views of the city below and sea beyond; a great place to end the day watching the sun dip into the Mediterranean Sea.

There are 40 forts in the mountains surrounding the city that once acted as lookouts and protection from the enemy. Now abandoned and dilapidated, one can walk between them all on connecting paths. I went to the recommended Diamanté, the highest point in Geonva for a beautiful view all around. My directions to get there were little better than "just walk up". So that's what I did. I walked up random stairs and hills, whatever looked interesting as long as it was taking me higher. It was an hour before I made it out of civilization and another hour of walking up through nature before I arrived. It was absolutely worth it; I was completely alone and at peace with the world. I sat on the edge of a decaying wall and enjoyed the view of sea, city and mountains from this little slice of heaven. I walked to another fort then down, down, down to the city until I reached the funicular. The longest one I've ever ridden, there were three well-spaced stops between the top and bottom.

After work on Friday we caught a bus for the five hour trip to Venice for Carnaval. I was so excited! Venice has long been my most favorite place on earth and 25 years later nothing has changed; it still is. There is a magic about Venice that can't be conveyed through word or film. I couldn't contain myself and literally jumped up and down as we walked through Piazza San Marco on the way to our flat. Occasionally we would pass people dressed in their 18th century masquerade ball attire. I wish I were on a different budget and was able to join the parties but I was quite content to simply admire the stunning costumes. One of my bucket list items was to go on a gondola ride. I didn't do it last time I was in Venice because I felt it was a romantic activity, not something to do alone or with a group of strangers. So at dusk we paid an exorbitant amount of money to make it happen. For 30 minutes the gondolier gently toured us around the canals of Venice and when Antonio kissed me the gondolier began to sing a beautiful Italian song. It was absolutely perfect. Afterward we went to a cello concert and art show. We didn't actually do much else besides that apart from walk around, window shop, eat and take pictures, but for me it was enough.

Cinque Terre was the next stop and the only place with a hostel open was in Portovenere. I've really enjoyed the benefits of traveling off-season, such as low cost accommodation and fewer tourists, but this was one place that it wasn't so beneficial. Most of that town was closed in the off-season and the few eating establishments that were open were pricey and you had no choice. Still, it's a cute little town. The hostel sits high on a hill (90 steps to get there) with a lovely view of the harbor and the rest of the town. At the top of the town is a castle and it its base is a cemetery with the most stunning views. I love that they put photos with the crypts, some over 100 years old! I also found an inordinate amount of graves belonging to WWII victims. I say inordinate because there were a lot and in such a small town it must have been devastating to the population. Below that is a church and at the bottom (town level) a most spectacular chapel sits on the rocks jetting out to the sea. I loved this little chapel made out of the grey rock from the surrounding mountains and felt the power of it as it stood deserted with the sound of the crashing waves below thundering through the rocky interior.

On the first night the only other person in the hostel was a young girl from Alaska. Even the staff left after 8:00 which was a little concerning since that night there was a storm with such strong winds the power flickered several times. The next day, however, was beautiful! I loved lying in bed and waking to the sunrise over the water. I joined Alaska for a six hour walk through the hillside to Riomaggiore, the last and biggest of the five towns. But when we arrived, anything that would provide sustenance was closed. Even the supermarket! And due to recent damage, so was the trail that went along the coast to the other towns and parts of the trails in the hills. It is most certainly a place I'd love to come back to, when places are open, with a small pack and walk from town to town and stay in whichever one I wanted. For now, however, hungry, discouraged and a forecast ahead of a week of rain starting in two days I decided to head to Florence. At least there I could stay dry in museums.

Adiós Spain-Seville, Granda and Valencia

Spain, my home for two months, was coming to a close. Yet there were so many places I wanted to see before I left! Unfortunately there just wasn't enough time. The unspoken travelers' rule is, you don't go backwards, and Carnaval in Venice was a fast approaching commitment.

Seville, the birthplace of flamenco, was my first stop after Portugal and before Morocco. A beautiful city where the cathedral supposedly holds the remains of Christoper Columbus. At least there is a huge tomb dedicated to him. Portugal claims to have the remains and so does Cuba so who knows. But everything in that cathedral is enormous! It's like it was built for giants. Since it is the third biggest cathedral in the world it would probably seem odd if things weren't built to scale. It was the days before New Years Eve and Seville was more crowded than I'd expected. As such I never made it into the palace, which I've been told is a must-see. I spent a couple days walking around, exploring the city and really enjoying the non-touristy part. It had a much better feel, was less crowded and the restaurants were fantastic and comparatively cheap. Of course I took in a flamenco show and was very impressed. According to Spaniards, a proper Flamenco experience must be viewed from the first or second row and does not include food because if you are distracted by food you can not experience the feeling of this dance that was born out of discrimination and oppression. It's not about technique or flashy dress but the conveyance of the passion. This couple had beautiful outfits and very skilled technique on top of the passion so it was an all around superb show.

I left Seville on NYE for Morocco through Tarifa. Although I only walked from the bus station to the port to board the ferry, I found it a very cute town that I would like to have explored a little more. Upon my re-entry into Spain I was informed by the customs officer that I have eight days left in the Schengen zone. Not completely surprised I was a bit concerned because I still have Italy to explore and had to get there by plane on day eight. There wasn't much I could do about it; I'd just take my chances. How do they expect anybody to thoroughly explore Western Europe in 90 days?? That's what it takes to properly explore one country!

I had skipped Gibraltar and Malaga to spend the extra time in my beloved Morocco so I headed straight to Granada on the recommendation of almost everyone I've spoken with about Spain. However, the scenic bus trip told me I need to return one day and extensively explore these missed areas.

Granada is talked up a lot and it's understandable. Less than a half million people in the entire city and surrounding area, it is international yet has a cozy feel. There is a university there that keeps the city young and vibrant and the surrounding mountains give parts of the city center a ski town feel. The Alhambra is just spectacular and walking around it's public grounds is a great way to spend a day. So is walking around the hills where the caves are. People still live in them, some fully developed into homes with the front built out to look like a proper house, others are open holes with a sketchy door or sheet for privacy. Flamenco shows in the caves are also a must-see so I did one of those touristy things that includes the bus ride and a little walking tour. It, too, was very good, but very different than the one in Seville. Overall I found it to be a great place, definitely a city that made the "short list".

My flight to Rome left out of Valencia and I had a day and a half to enjoy the city. There were zero expectations as it was never a place I intended, or desired, to visit. I've found that I'm usually most impressed with places when I have no expectations and Valencia was no different. The train station there is stunning! The inside is covered with ceramic mosaics on the walls, ceiling and tile. It invokes the imagination of times gone by when train travel was grand and elegant, making me wish I were traveling by train just so I could be a part of its future past.

I arrived with no plans other than to meet up with a Camino friend who offered to show me around his hometown. When I stepped out of the hostel at the appointed meeting time I was met with a big hug! It was a wonderful reunion and for twelve hours we walked throughout the old city, went to two very impressive museums-one of Roman ruins, one of ceramics- and in two churches, watched children perform traditional dance, drove to the beach where we had a delicious lunch, wandered around the new city, then he introduced me to his family: his wife, daughter and five-day old granddaughter, among others who stopped by to see the newborn. What warm and welcoming people and what a joy to hold such a tiny thing! I can't remember the last time I'd held a baby and never one so small. What an honor it was to meet them all and spend such time with a local family. At the same time it was very sad. It's easy to meet people and have fun for a couple days and leave. Sometimes, however, there are people with whom deeper connections are made and it makes the "good bye" much more difficult. One thing this traveling has drilled into me-and I say that because I liked to think that I don't need anyone- is that I do need people in my life. Everything is so much better when shared. I'm also getting a bit tired and I'd like to stop for a while and just 'be' somewhere without any time deadlines to worry about. The big question is...Where? That remains to be seen. For now, however, it's Adiós Espagñe, Ciao Italia!

Morocco!

I was really excited to go to Morocco for several reasons. 1) Africa would be a new continent for me 2) I've been wanting to go there for 25 years 3) I was growing quite wearisome of the sameness of Western Europe and was anxious to experience something completely different. Although I was sure I'd like Morocco I had no idea how much I would fall in love with it! An ancient land where old ways are still practiced: Prices are haggled, rugs are hand woven, goods are carried on mules among the high walls of the old medinas and happy children laugh and play in the streets.

A country where cumin is set on the table alongside the salt, couscous and tagine dominate every menu, alcohol is disapproved of but hashish is bought, sold and smoked freely, and old men look as if they were born that way--not a trace of youth to be found in their weathered, toothless faces. I had enlightening conversations with young Muslim men, climbed the highest mountain in North Africa, saw camels on the beach and listened to the calls to prayer five times a day. I smoked hash in Tangier, ate camel in Fez, bought spices in Marrakech and saw my first green flash when the sun set over the Atlantic Ocean in Essaouira. I didn´t know it would be a country filled with beautiful mountains, rivers, waterfalls and incredibly blue sky. I found it to be a very photogenic country although many people don't want their photos taken.

Tangiers, my first night in the country, was so positive and it set the tone for the rest of the trip. I was lost, trying to find my hostel in the dark. I approached a couple policemen and asked for directions. They had no idea where this place was so they asked a street vendor. He didn't know. The police asked taxi drivers, the vendor asked passerby's until there was a crowd of about seven people trying to help. Eventually someone in a car pulled out their smart phone and figured it out. One guy in the crowd offered to take me there but I refused and the policeman, sensing my anxiety, said no worries they would take me there. So they walked at least ten minutes with me, stopping occasionally to ask another vendor or passerby for directions and escorted me to the hostel door, waiting until I got inside. So nice of them! In fact, the biggest surprises to me about this trip were how incredibly nice I found the Moroccan people to be and how very safe I felt in this country. Much safer than anywhere in South America. Sometimes the people can be annoying when trying to sell you something, and the old women seem to live on a diet of sour lemons, but overall they are kind folk with friendly, funny children.

My first day in Tangier eight of us filled two taxis and enjoyed a beautiful, sunny day. We passed the Kings palace, saw camels on the side of the road, stopped for a beautiful vista overlooking the blue ocean and explored the Caves of Hercules that have been occupied for thousands of years. Afterward I joined the British guys in my car as they wanted to go to a hamam. I was in need of a good scrub down but not prepared for how gross it is. As they scrub every inch of your body your skin is sloughed off in black clumps. The whole process lasts about seven minutes-and you can't be shy-but in the end you feel fantastic. My skin was so soft and my face looked younger. Of course that was short lived. Hahaha.

The next day I went with an Australian man from the hostel on a three-hour, shag carpet, magic bus ride to Chefchaouen. The whole thing was an adventure! You can't come to this country with any Western expectations or attitude. Just go with the flow and know it's all part of the experience. These people live it every day. It is their reality. You are a guest in their country and it is best to remember that so the experience can be enjoyed.

Chefchaouen-the Blue City! WOW!!! So beautiful! It's one of those places that, although it is in the guide books, you don't want to tell anyone about it because you don't want it to be ruined by so many tourists. Yet it is so incredible you can't contain your excitement--you must share! Every few steps in the medina seem to present a photo opportunity. Even though it is a very small town, and it rained for four days, I stayed on six days, not wanting to leave. When the rain cleared I joined a few others to go hiking in the Rif mountains. We walked to God's Bridge and wanted to also go to the large waterfall, which is supposed to be really nice, but only had time to make it to the small one, which was underwhelming and rather disenchanting as the path is flat and a bit commercial. If I could have stayed another day I would have gone back but alas, it was time to move on. Fes, Marrakech and Essaouira beckoned.

Fes has the oldest medina in Morocco and I wasn't too interested in going but at this point I was sort of traveling with an Australian and an American that I'd met in Tangiers and it was on the way to Marrakech so I agreed to go for a day. It turned into three and if I'd known what I know now I would have skipped Marrakech completely. The Fes market is exactly what I'd imagined Marrakech to be like. All the markets sell the same stuff...rugs, jewelry, food, shoes, scarves and traditional Moroccan clothes, lamps and other houseware items among other things. But Fes had a nice feel with its narrow but not too crowded streets, not overly pushy vendors and good food. It helps that we stayed in an incredibly beautiful Riad too. We enjoyed some gardens, strolled through the streets, got my shoe fixed for thirty cents (a strap on one of my croc sandals had ripped away), I got a henna tattoo and we checked out a leather factory. They make leather in Morocco and you can go to the top of one of the shops and look out into the enormous vats of coloring where the skins are dipped and stepped on and soaked by people literally standing in them. It's fascinating yet incredibly stinky because they use pigeon droppings to soften the hides before putting them into the dye. And apparently it wasn't even bad when we were there because it is winter. I couldn't imagine that place in 40 degree (Celsius) temps! My heart goes out to those poor guys that work in those dye vats.

It was in Fes that I parted ways with the American and Australian and traveled on to Marrakech alone. Marrakech, the city of spice and snake charmers. The one city I was most looking forward to in this country was, unfortunately, the biggest disappointment. It's sheer size is overwhelming. It's incredibly massive with people everywhere aggressively trying to get a piece of the pie. Performing monkeys are kept on a chain, yanked about by their masters. Children doing the dirty work of their parents, trying to sell you cookies or tissues. Women go from table to table in restaurants with thier child in tow, shoving a begging hand in your face. Thirty vendors each selling the exact same thing-whether it's orange juice or clothes or jewlery, amounting to literally thousands of vendors. And when you turn around after stopping to buy a snack or juice there will be someone with their hand out feeling entitled to money as well. And they are so bold about it. If performers see you take their photo they will chase you down and want money for it. And the side streets are wide so you are always being nearly run over by cyclists or mopeds. Honestly I couldn't get out of there fast enough so I was very happy when we took a day trip to Ourika to hike in the mountains among waterfalls and drink tea in a mountainside tea house.

The following day we went to Imlil to hike Toubkal, the highest mountain in North Africa at 4,167 meters. It was a two day trek, the first day staying overnight in a refuge at 3,200m. Less than one thousand meters to hike the following day it was a lot more difficult than I hoped but not completely unexpected considering my past experience with altitude. Although it didn't affect me nearly as badly as it had in Peru, I still struggled. I was sweating in the cold, we used crampons to climb up the snow covered mountain top and I made it to the 4000m pass with stunning views of the valley below but refused to climb the remaining 30 minutes to the summit. I was tired of feeling like crap and made the sometimes-treacherous descent to the refuge on my own while the American and our guide continued on. Together the three of us spent another four hours walking down the mountain, making for a 10.5 hour day of hiking.

From snow covered mountains to the beach in a day. Essaouira is a fantastic port town with an international flair and a beach that has spongy, mud-like, very fine, soft sand. When you walk on the wet, brown sand there is so much air beneath it that you see the surrounding sand rise, and become lighter in color as your feet sink, creating very deep foot prints. It's both fascinating and strange; I've never seen anything like it before. The best thing about the town, however, is that there is nothing to do. No must-see sights. It is a place to just be. After a nice breakfast I enjoyed the hours spent at the port watching the boats come in, the fishermen unload their catch, the hustle and bustle of the dock workers as they iced the fish, put them on trucks and repaired the nets. There was a nice wall to escape to where everything could be observed from above when being among the chaos overloaded the senses. Going to the medina wall and watching the waves crash against the rocks for hours was another of my favorite pastimes. Or watching the sunset. Food options here are the best in Morocco for me as there are vegetarian restaurants, seafood and non-Moroccan cuisine. But my favorite thing to eat was the falafel sanwiches for two dollars. So tasty! The vendors here were a little different too. I didn't see any rug or lamp stores but there were a lot of art stores and some very good art too. There were also more crafts made out of beautiful cedar root, lemon wood and more. Still, too many people selling the same things, but at least it was better quality stuff.

Essaouira made the short list of places I'd consider moving to and I didn't want to leave. But time was running short. I was laid up with a fever my last two days there, extending my stay by a day, and I had to go. A little bit of Spain left to explore before going to Italy. Carnival with my Camino friend awaits!

Portugal

Portugal. It isn't all finely polished for visitors nor does it have the sparkle or mass tourists that most of Europe has. The people aren't particularly nice (although all the hostel employees were great!) and smoking is permitted everywhere. Perhaps that's why I am drawn to it. It's a poor country where elaborate fountains, sculpted façades and beautiful, painted tiles on building exteriors hint to times of past grandeur, when it was one of the richest countries in the world. There's enough grit to give the feeling of an authentic experience but not enough to make me feel unsafe or like a cash cow (as I did in Peru). I feel like the entire country just needs a good bath and a paint job to set it back on its regal path. And although I despise the smoking, it kinda goes with the whole attitude of the country. The north at least. And there is a definite distinction between northern Portugal and the rest of the country.

Porto is a colorful, hilly city on the Atlantic in the north of the country. Beautiful on a sunny day but it's often cold and rainy. It's famous for producing port wine, in red, white, rose and amber. Port is a sweet, high alcohol wine which tastes much like sherry. I am quite fond of it and after tasting regular Portuguese wine I think it's best they stick to their specialty. Portugal also produces 50% of the worlds cork and to my surprise cork isn't just for wine! It can be made into handbags, shoes, dresses, wallets, hats, etc. Interestingly enough I didn't actually see any Portuguese people carrying/wearing any of these items but I adore them because they are beautiful and practical since they are light weight, durable and waterproof. So I splurged and bought a few needed things for myself.

Coimbra, home to the country's oldest university, it was also once the capital of Portugal. A palace was built at the top of the hill that the city is built on but abandoned when the capital moved to Lisbon nearly a thousand years ago. About four hundred years ago the University purchased the palace and it is now both a tourist destination and functioning educational facility. The main attraction is the library. The most impressive one I've ever been in. Wow!! Fortunately I did manage to snap a couple photos before learning it wasn´t allowed. :-)

With winter quickly approaching and I still chasing summer, I headed south to Lisbon. If I'd only known then, I would have skipped that city and spent the entire time in Sintra. However if I had done that I wouldn't have met the wonderful, fun people that I did. My first night in Lisbon three Frenchies checked into my room and invited me out with them for a beer. One spoke Portuguese, one had been there before and all three were roommates back in Bordeaux. A really great group, we ended up spending the next 36 hours together. Friday night we went out bar hopping where things got a little out of control. Fortunately for a change I wasn't to blame. :-P. But it was all good and we had an absolute blast. The next day was a lot more low-key with a lot of walking around the city, a relaxing lunch and a Fado show in the evening. Not the best talent but I'd say it was more of an authentic experience than most people get. That night I had somehow convinced one of the hostel employees to bring us to Sintra, his favorite place in Portugal, on Monday. So the Frenchies left on Sunday and the French Canadian and I continued to hang out for the day playing tourist at all the places we'd missed the day before.

Sintra was beyond amazing. One of the top places I'd consider spending the rest of my life. There are dozens of palaces, spectacular gardens and cute streets. The main attraction, however, is the King's former summer palace at the top of the mountain and the surrounding forest. We spent five hours there taking it all in. My favorite palace ever! And the surrounding forest is so fun to explore with countless paths to take you to all sorts of places, some notable, like the royal stables or the chalet of the Kings' mistress. Others just take you for a walk through the woods. There is also the Quinta da Regaleira Gardens, a main attraction that we didn't have time to see. Unfortunately in the winter things close a lot earlier due to the short daylight hours. Of course I had to return! So return I did and spent a rushed three hours in this wonderland. There was another palace to explore, fountains, caves, turets, "lakes" and a 20m well to climb up. There were cork trees, sequoias, bromeliads and more. In the words of Junie B. Jones, Wowie Wow!Wow!

I rushed because it was Dec. 23 and I needed to get to the small town of Evora. I didn't want to be stuck in Lisbon for Christmas, preferring instead to be some place remote where I could work on my blog, my freelance writing course, do laundry and plan the next trip. Unfortunately none of that happened. Evora is a small town with a big cathedral, Roman ruins and the very cool Chapel of Bones. There is also a nice garden with peacocks to wander through which I'm sure is beautiful in the summer when the plants and flowers are in bloom. There were only six people staying in the hostel and I only met three others. A really nice, young French couple and I enjoyed the fire and wine in the common room and prepared a lovely Christmas Eve dinner together. They had fish and rice and I had the vegetables. We talked for hours and they invited me to join them the following day to go to Segres. They had reservations at a surf camp hostel and sold me when describing the location as 'more wild'. Since my rule of thumb is: always accept an opportunity that comes my way, unless I feel unsafe, I did. Besides, travel by car always trumps bus travel.

On Dec. 25th we left around 10:00 for the three hour trip. A picnic lunch was had on the beach in Lagos, just shy of our destination. It was sparsely occupied with a few brave souls taking a dip in the water. I put my feet in and although it wasn't nearly as cold as I'd expected it to be, the air was cold enough to deter me. Not to mention I don't have a swimsuit anymore.

The surf camp had room for me for two nights so I checked in with the Frenchies. There were only seven of us the first night but a few more joined my second night. I didn't go surfing but joined them for the ride and walked along the cliffs, took pictures and after the lesson we went to the places that only locals go. The views were spectacular and the bravery of the surfers impressed me. The waves were really big in these spots! That night we had a blast with some of the new arrivals. So much fun that I didn't want to leave the next day but unfortunately they were booked. One couple even offered to sleep in the yard in their tent so I could stay! And if I'd been able to stay that third night I would have tried my hand at surfing; the Portugese surf instructors are way cute! Unfortunately however the universe had other plans for me and I've been learning to trust and move with it. Onto Morocco via Seville.

Spain

I spent so much time in Spain it was beginning to feel like home. I developed friendships, learned the ways and adapted to the lifestyle i.e. siestas. :-) My Spanish comprehension has improved considerably as well but unfortunately my ability to speak it is still limited to a few key words and phrases. So far I've spent over two months in this wonderful country, where there seem to be at least three churches in even the smallest of villages and it's not uncommon to see nuns walking down the street. Thirty-nine days on the Camino de Santiago with a side trip to Bilbao to eat delicious food and see the impressive Guggenheim Museum. The "art" inside isn't worth the €10, nor is the building itself so interesting from that viewpoint but the outside was absolutely worth the trip there. The structure is made out of 3mm thick titanium plates pieced together to look like a futuristic ship. It's very cool!

The best meal I've had in all my travels outside the U.S. was in Bilbao, and it was a salad! The other best was blue fin tuna tartare in Barcelona. Other than that I've not eaten much here besides salads (with hard boiled egg and tuna-because that's how they are made everywhere here) and tuna empanadas. If I liked eggs I could eat tortillas-an egg and potato 'pie'- but those are the bulk of vegetarian options in this meat-heavy country. Thank goodness I do eat fish! But the wine flows--cheaper than a cup of tea in most parts of the country, costing between €1.00-2.50 a glass depending on if you are in the country or a major city. Some places even include a tapas with that 1.50 glass of wine. A bottle in a restaurant can be purchased for five euro! With a nearly 1:1 exchange rate it's the best deal out there, encouraging you to drink even if you don't want to. And the Spanish do drink. Not heavily- I've never seen them drunk-but they can be seen at any time of day, even 9:00 in the morning, enjoying a beer, vermouth or glass of wine. A half bottle of wine per person is offered with the lunch menu of the day and the evening starts out with a small beer and tapas before switching to wine and more tapas--many of which are meat. Pig parts, actually. Flesh and blood to be exact. Pig ears, fried pig skin, pig lips and the specialty, morcilla-bread and pig blood stuffed in an intestine...you name it they've made tapas out of it. Then there is octopus and other strange creatures from the sea. And they are all specialties. Mmmmmm... But what is surprising to me is that with all this fatty, high-cholesterol food, the Spanish don't seem to have weight problems. Perhaps it's because they eat in moderation and they walk a lot or because they smoke. Unfortunately the vast majority of the population does smoke.

The architecture here is superb. I admit I really didn't know anything about Spanish architecture prior to my arrival and find it very underrated. I'm a huge fan of the chunky baroque, the unique works of Gaudi in the north and the Moorish influence in the south. Gaudi´s creative genius created great works-buildings, parks, churches-that immediately became timeless, and a personal favourite of mine. I think what makes greatness is clever uniqueness. And Spain has produced a lot of Greats: Gaudi, Dali, Picasso to name a few. I realize my good fortune to be able to visit the Parc Guell and Sagrida Familia (among others) in Barcelona, the Dali Museum in Figures and see (admittedly I wasn't a fan before this) great works of Picasso at the Sophia Riena Museum in Madrid. In Madrid I also very much enjoyed the Crystal Palace in the expansive Retiro Park and the hour-long changing of the guards ceremony at the palace. Toledo was very nice, a great show of how the Jews, Muslims and Christians lived together, but very touristy. I much preferred to just wander around the small, lesser-known areas of O Porriño, Puebla de Sanabria and the walled towns of Avila and Girona. The latter has a fantastic well-preserved Jewish quarter.

Spain has also been a great history lesson, inescapable through the architecture alone. A subject I always found incredibly boring in school, in my adult life I often regret not knowing more about it. But the Spanish are very well versed in their past and love to share. I find the history of this country fascinating yet very sad. So many wars. For five hundred years the Muslims, Jews and Christians lived together peacefully and in harmony until everyone had to convert to Catholicism or die. Unfortunately too many people died. Too many senseless wars the world over in the name of God. Then and still today. More and more I find myself drawn to the Jewish past, their story. I sympathize with the plight of a peaceful, highly intelligent and self-sufficient people and feel a greater respect for their culture that I've always admired.

The traditional Spanish city "culture" of going out drinking until 4:00 in the morning is one in which I did not partake. However I did enjoy chancing upon some old women making lace and drinking champagne outside a cafe at 10:00 on a Sunday morning. I also had the good chance to be there during a festival weekend and really enjoyed the local dancing, theater and up-and-coming technology exhibits contrasted with man-powered carnival that went on in the spectacular Parc Castillia. In Barcelona, besides just wandering the streets with your mouth agape there is a great market to explore and the coastline is beautiful with the many palm trees. There was a detectable pride of being Catalunyan and their desire for independence from Spain was palpable and visible with their Catalunya flags flying from windows everywhere.

Before I moved on to Portugal I spent a week near the mountains in Barco de Avila participating in an English immersion program. It was strange to constantly be referred to as an "Anglo" but it was how to differentiate us. For six days-12-hours per day I did little else but speak and listen. I'm not a chatty person by nature but it seemed effortless after the first day. Once again I got to meet native Spaniards and once again I fell in love with the people. So warm and kind. I can't believe that I have allowed a negative childhood experience taint my feelings towards all things associated with the Spanish language for so long. I'm thankful that after spending time in South America and Spain all that negativity is gone.

I'm not done with this country yet. I'll explore the south of Spain after I'm done with Portugal and Morocco. I'm already looking forward to going back.

Camino De Santiago

The Camino de Santiago--Finally! One of my biggest bucket list items-and what I planned my entire trip around-was about to happen! The energy of the pilgrims in St. Jean was electric with excitement and I was no exception. I was so stoked to be doing this and to be back in the mountains that on September 25 it only took me 7.5 hours (including breaks) to hike the 27.1 km over the Pyrenees from St. Jean Pied de Port, France to Roncesville, Spain. 684 km (ok, I cheated a little), 1.3 million steps and 36 days later I arrived in Santiago de Compostela. A relatively easy walk, it was unexpectedly powerful at times. I'm sure it will be some time before the significance of the experience is fully revealed to me. However, I have learned that I prefer the sounds of church bells ringing and roosters crowing to the noise of cars, that I'd much rather walk outside and see the gazillion stars at night and watch the sunrise in the morning than have the convenience that city lights represent while blocking them out. In fact, cars have become an assault to my senses and really irritate me. I still love muscle and classic cars, and was in love with my own car but have since decided to aggressively pursue selling it. I hope I never again have to live somewhere that I need a car on a daily basis.

Everyone's Camino looks different and mine included a side trip to wonderful Bilbao for a couple days as well as a spectacular four-day road trip through parts of Spain and Portugal with a Spanish man whom I'd walked with for a couple days. There are two things about The Camino that are clearly evident to Pilgrims (real Pilgrims, not those people that just start 100 km before the end to get their certificate). First, love permeates every aspect of The Camino! It's in the air, on the rocks and in the exchanges of "Buen Camino". There is also a magic in the way it looks out for it's pilgrims, whether it is returning a lost item to it's owner or connecting people that are meant to meet. I've seen and experienced it first hand several times and it is fascinating how quickly strong bonds can form between strangers. I also love how one can have complete conversations with someone that doesn't speak the same language. Cooking together, sleeping in albergues that are monasteries, or run by singing nuns, falling asleep to 'snoring symphonies' (ok, that part I could do without) are lasting memories. Although it is an experience like no other, the overall feeling of connection-with each other, the earth and spirit-was reminiscent of my time in Patagonia. It is not something that I can verbalize. It is so unique and intimate that to try would somehow cheapen it. Walking between 21-31 km/day while eating figs, walnuts, almonds and hazelnuts picked from the trees, grapes from the vines and apples given to us by locals as we passed, became addicting. The terrain is fairly flat with a few mountain passes and very beautiful. Even the less lovely parts have a beauty of their own if you choose to see it. The weather was perfect almost the entire trip. Sometimes that looked like sunshine, sometimes it looked like clouds keeping us from getting too hot but the sun and wind were always at our backs. Only a few days had rain--a warm, soft rain that, to me, was a welcomed coolant. A couple times I didn't even bother with rain gear. The nights often bordered on cold but one was rarely out after 20:00 anyhow and curfew was 22:00. I loved the small villages, cow traffic and the fellow peregrinos I met that enriched my journey. There are infinite details everywhere you look: like the lyrics to John Lennon's Imagine that someone wrote, one verse at a time, on trash cans for several kilometers. Or the rock buried in the ground with the dirt surrounding it just-so so that it looks like a heart. Or the drawing on the rock in the ground. Or the little bird flying against the wind of equal strength causing him to appear stuck in mid-air, flapping his wings in vain. The Pilgrim blessings are very special evening moments and the entire Camino experience is a very welcoming one. It was the rare occasion that I felt like a tourist but disgruntled employees can be found everywhere. Overall, I am finding Spain to be a wonderful and beautiful country where a glass of wine is cheaper than a cup of tea.

Not ready to stop walking, the plan was to continue on another 89.8 km to Fisterra and 28 more to Muxia then bus back to Santiago to walk 11 days to OPorto, Portugal. Unfortunately, on the second day to Fisterra, I received word that my stepmother had made her transition. So with the aid of a taxi and another day of walking, I walked a total of 69.8 km to Fisterra, the place that was once upon a time thought of as the end of the world, when it was believed the world was flat. Fortunately the 10 kilograms of my stuff that I'd shipped from Pamplona had arrived and was waiting in an albergue for me, but the rest of my Camino trip was cancelled. I'm not sure how I am going to un-condition myself from walking for miles every day. I really am hooked on this lifestyle!

I shortened my post because I felt the photos tell a much better story than I ever could. I took over 1,100 pictures and managed to narrow it down to less than 250. I feel so much is missing but I hope you enjoy the slideshow anyway.

For those seriously considering walking The Caminio I have included a post on the sidebar with some details not covered (or stressed enough) in the books that I found helpful.

Travel Interrupted

BlaBla Car is the way to travel around Europe. So much cheaper and more comfortable than the train plus you get to meet locals. So from France to Barcelona I went. I was there just 24 hour--only time enough to walk around and check out the market. There is so much to see and do in Barcelona, what a wonderful place! The French have obviously lost the fashion title to Spain. Once again I found myself wishing I were on a shopping holiday. The next day I caught a ride to Pamplona for Running of the Bulls. I didn't have a room reservation anywhere as every place was either full or outrageously expensive but I figured something would work out. We arrived around 20:00 and Wow!! What a wild and crazy place! A sea of white and red and drunkenness. I found my way to the historic town filled with parades, marching bands, live bands, DJ's and music blasted from the bars. I squeezed my way through the crowded streets, successfully avoiding having sangria spilled all over my clothes, danced in parades, went to two carnivals and soaked it all in. Not having a place to stay I decided it would be best not to drink as I needed to keep my wits and belongings close to me and I didn't want to be any more tired than I already would be if I had to stay up all night, which I did.

The party goes on 24-hours a day during San Fermin. Every night at 23:00 there is a spectacular fireworks display and music is heard all night long. I was surprised at how young a lot of the drunks were--fourteen and fifteen year old kids swaying as they tried to stand still at 3:00 in the morning. It gets cold in Pamplona at night and blazing hot during the day. So around 04:30 I found a nearby hotel and sat in the lobby looking for an affordable place to stay for my second night there. And since I didn't pay for one night anywhere I justified paying $150 for a night would average out a little better. Then at 06:30 I went to get a good spot to watch the running of the bulls which starts at 08:00. I settled on an area near the beginning of the run and managed to see one guy get gored right off the bat. The bulls are fast. very fast. The whole run takes place in less than three minutes. Afterward everyone breaks up, gets breakfast or goes to their hotel rooms to finally get some sleep after a night of partying. I found a beautiful cafe and bought myself a cup of hot chocolate so thick it was like warm pudding. Perfect for dipping my buttery croissant into! In the square outside I found a patch of grass, put my day pack under my head and took a nap. Around 10:30 I felt my skin begin to cook but it was still to early to check into the hotel so I walked to the grocery store and bought myself a picnic lunch. There is a quieter, more secluded tree-lined park with a beautiful view of the city and river below that I had discovered the night before. I laid out my towel and enjoyed a healthy meal of gazpacho, sardines, banana and yogurt. I journaled in my iPad for a bit then decided to lay down in the shade of the trees and rest for a bit until I could leave for the hotel.

I must have fallen asleep because I never heard him come. When I woke about 20 minutes later I sat up and looked for my day pack which wasn't there. A few seconds of disbelief hung over me before it sunk in that everything of value and importance that I owned, along with some of my favorite clothes, had just been stolen. Passport, drivers license, $4000 cash, iPad, iPod and hundreds of dollars worth of other little things. Numb, I stood up and started walking around determined to find that SOB that took my stuff. I still had my stainless steel water bottle and as I walked through all the nearby parks looking for the thief, I resolved to knock him upside the head with it when I finally found the bastard. Unfortunately I never did. Instead I found the police at which point I broke down into tears for the next four hours. Not only is this four months worth of budget but my iPad had over a years worth of journaling that I'll never be able to replicate. Names, places, dates, details...my digital memory. I filed my police report and walked to the hotel. I was shown to my room which had four beds and after explaining to the clerk what happened he offered to let me use his lap top.

During my travels it has become abundantly clear that encounters are never left to chance or coincidence and this day was no exception. The hotel didn't have a proper reception, just some poor guy stuck in a storage room with a computer. So while I was in there, using his lap top trying to reach Clay through FB (although there was nothing he could do, I just needed to hear his voice) a couple young Swedish men came in looking for a room, of which none were available. But they had met a family from Denmark on their way in who said they had more beds than they needed and could share their room. So I quickly finished my message and went up to my floor in an attempt to catch up with them. As they came out of the Danes room I caught them and said that I was in the same situation if they met anybody else that was in need of a bed but I only had the room for one night. And since my day pack had been stolen and I could use the cash. So five minutes later there was a knock on my door and that's how I met Ali and Nico. Swedes aren't known for their warm personality and great sense of humor but Ali and Nico broke that stereotype. I attribute it to the fact that Nicos parents are from Chile and Uruguay and Ali's from Egypt. Irrelevant. They rescued me that weekend.

We were like the Three Musketeers for the next 48 hours. Ali let me freely use his cell phone to connect with the digital world, shared his deodorant with me and made me laugh. We walked around and did some shopping so they could get the finishing touches for their attire-red scarf, belt and white t-shirt-then ate some Spanish Chinese food for dinner, complete with Sangria. In the morning they were going to run with the bulls so this time I went to the end, near the arena, to watch for them. It was definitely more fun watching when I knew people running. It was jam packed and my viewing area was about an 8-inch diameter hole so I didn't see them but they did make it inside the arena. We met up afterward and walked back to the hotel. I listened as they unfolded the detailed events of the run, of their scary and near-dangerous encounters with the huge, horned beasts, how someone in the arena very near them got lifted up by the bulls' horns and smashed down on his head and they watched as his body lay there motionless. It was frightening and exciting at the same time.

We had a noon check out and Ali and Nico had beds with the Danish family if they wanted them so I suggested that I leave and go back to Barcelona. They wouldn't hear of it and futilely checked on line for an affordable room, suggested buying hammocks and there was always the fall back of renting a car just to sleep in but in the end Ali called the Danes and asked if I could also stay there. They were fine with it so we were able to enjoy the rest of the day going on a thrilling carnival ride, eating, drinking sangria and watching the bull fight.

See a Spanish bull fight--check. It was a bucket list item. I'm glad to have experienced it but do not intend to ever attend another one. The six bulls from the morning run were slowly teased and tortured as they bled to death until the final, fatal stabbing by the Matador de Toros. There were three matadors, each of which, in rotation, fought two bulls. The least experienced one was boo-ed both times. Even a novice like myself I could see that he wasn't very good as he repeatedly ran behind the protective wall. They all looked spectacular in their traditional, gilded blue outfits and flowing red capes but only one of the matadors performed beautifully, exactly in the dramatic, poised style that one imagines a matador to perform. It was quite impressive.

In two days we laughed and joked and made a lot of memories. They paid for more than their share of everything which was greatly appreciated since I had only 320 euro on me when I was robbed, with no means to get more, and still had to get back to Barcelona and pay for four nights accommodations there and spend 130 euro for a new passport. They ensured that my bucket list trip to Pamplona was indeed a good time despite the awful circumstances. Once again I was feeling blessed.

Obviously I hadn't taken the weather into account when I was planning my trip. I didn't ever factor 35 degree Celsius weather in my head when I saw myself cycling through France or exploring Spain and Portugal. And anybody that has been following my blog knows that I don't do heat well and I'm not a beach person. I had a few choices: 1) fight the heat and tourists and sweat my way through the Latin countries 2) get a job somewhere or 3) go to cooler countries that I had not intended to visit. I chose option four. A couple weeks after Clay and I parted in Nice, I bought a ticket to Orlando to hang out with him for a couple months. (What better place to escape the heat? LOL!) I wanted to get to know him outside of our magical, too perfect fantasy relationship. Was he really this nice and perfect? Was he worth all this time I was spending on him? I was unable to be present in my travels because he was always in my head and, being the ever impatient one, I had to determine if it was real or just his best foot forward. I was certain he had a dark side and I needed to find it. So after four more days in Barcelona, with a temporary passport and six euro in my pocket I hopped on a plane and headed to Florida.

P.S. Because all my stuff was stolen I couldn't take photos so there aren't any associated with this post. Sorry.