gift of the gab.

in ireland, the locals are known for the ability to talk with exuberance - readily and convincingly. in irish, the gift of the gab is called 'solabharthact', not that i have any idea how to pronounce it. i spent this past weekend in toronto, and i certainly got my fill of conversation. aside from the cumulative twelve hours i spent sleeping, i think talking/chatting/gossiping/catching-up is all that i did!

not that i am complaining. i was a veritable socialite in toronto this weekend! i brought absolutely no work, and did not even think about the faculty of education for more than 2.5 seconds. i got swept up in great conversations with both old and new friends. i socialized, ate out, shopped and dedicated the weekend to reconnecting with toronto folks. why is it that we don't speak with friends for months at a time, but when we finally do, we don't skip a beat? this is the sign of true friends, i think.

on friday night i had dinner with cayleigh at a delicious thai place on queen street west and then hit the town. she took me to meet some friends at the bovine sex club. no joke. i didn't notice a lot of cows, or a lot of sex for that matter, so i think the name must be purely for shock value. or perhaps it has some meaning that is beyond me. regardless, it was a stellar night with loads of familiar faces from queen's and around. the band was really quite good, and i managed to score a free ride home from them at the end of the night -- door to door service is a sure fire way to collect fans! in fact, i should give them a shoutout: thanks for the ride, caledonia.

saturday i lounged around the titus household with alyssa doing typical cottage-y type activties. sleeping, making a late breakfast, looking at pictures, lying around. we didn't get out of our pyjamas until almost 4! at five i met up with risa, my favourite jewish hippie vegan, whom i hadn't seen in almost TWO years. first of all, it was two years toooo long between visits. after we had tea and caught up, and i could barely believe how long it had been. she offers such a positive calming presence in my life. i adore her. i will have to make absolute sure it is not two years before i run into her again!

saturday night was sushi with a friend from my travels at a hidden gem. this place was called sushi on bloor (maybe i shouldn't be telling anyone else... keep the restaurant a secret) and it was quite possibly the best price-for-quality-food that i have had in eons. for less than 20 bucks, two people can get stuffed! the thirty minute lineup is worth it when you get free unlimited tea, soup and ice cream. i honestly felt like we were cheating them in some way when we got the bill.

sunday i had brunch with kally (another date that was way overdue) and got seriously distracted by the stores in yorkville and the the eaton centre. i kept trying to be practical and deciding to leave toronto, but then the titus' convinced me to stay for dinner.... and then tea... i just didn't want my weekend of conversation, gastronomy and socializing to end. plus i am easily convinced.

i am really not far from toronto, and with some good music or a book on tape, the trip absolutely flies by. i may not be like the irish, who possess a fluency of utterance unlike no other, but if i learned anything from my mother, i sure learned how to appreciate a good conversation.

fix or repair daily.

for those of you who know me, you know my love/hate relationships with my cars.

i loved the blue beast i drove in high school. at that point, i was just ecstatic to own a car, period. i loved the freedom associated with having a car. i loved road trips, cottage weekends and going to school when i wanted. it gave me a sense of mobility that i have always craved, and probably took it slightly for granted. we certainly put WAY more money into the blue taurus then we should have. it broke down regularly, and often had expenses in the thousands of dollars to fix. i am sure that over the years we put way more money into the car than it was ever worth. i always vowed i would never own a ford again.

last year, when the blue beast finally died after a long and painful death, i couldn't imagine life without a car. i immediately went car shopping with an i'll-deal-with-the-consequences-later type of attitude. however, i realized i couldn't afford to lease, rent or buy a car... i would have run out of my available credit. i felt so trapped and discouraged. i know having a car is a luxury, but it was a luxury i had had for six years!

eventually, a set of circumstances led to the fleming's inheriting yet another ford taurus, at a low cost. dad drove it for awhile, but being a 1993, it wasn't in the greatest of conditions. a red interior (sexy), broken heat and regular maintenance was frustrating for him. when dad finally got the car of his dreams (certainly NOT a ford!), i inherited the aformentioned red taurus. how lucky have i been in this lifetime? not one, but two ford taurus'! about every two months, like clockwork, something goes wrong with the car. i keep deciding, against my better judgement, to pump money into the car when it should probably be heading to the dump. but, living far from campus in kingston and needing regular transportation to ottawa make it very difficult to consider being car-less.

just the other day i found out that my oil pan rotted through. i have been told that this is not actually the worst thing that could happen, but at 450 dollars it certainly feels pretty rough. i can handle fixing or repairing daily, i just hope it is never found on road dead. cross your fingers that i make it all the way to toronto this weekend. however, if you do happen to see a '93 red taurus on the side of the 401, please stop to help!

all the world conspires.

january began at the faculty and everyone immediately hit the ground running... except me. i slept in for three days straight.

i know that we are meant to return from vacations well-rested, rejuvenated and ready to work. the problem is, i returned from my vacation wanting to go on another vacation. my body completely rejected any systems of structure. particularly related to being a student. after six years in post-secondary education, i am ready to be done. not only that, but seeing the world makes me realize how *little* i am actually learning by sitting in the classroom. i enjoy actually teaching when i am on practicum, but i constantly question whether this is where i am 'meant' to be.

i just finished reading paulo coelho's 'the alchemist'. it has been on my must read list for quite some time, and i was pleased to finally get my hands on a copy. while the novel has bestseller written all over it, i enjoyed the simple straight-forward messages within. sometimes, we get so wrapped up in complicated semantics that we need someone to spell it out for us. and this is exactly what coelho does. it is literally impossible to miss the message of the richest treasures being within ourselves. coelho uses a shepherd boy named santiago, and his journey to the pyramids in egypt, to show that all the world conspires to help us acheive what we are meant to, if we have the courage. he demonstrates the invisible chain that links one thing to another; and explains that it is a great lie that fate will simply take over - essentially calling for us to take an active role in our own futures.

but, has anyone noticed how exhausting it can be to find your own 'personal legend'? it is certainly not a simple endeavour. there are a whirlwind of job applications due over the next few weeks; dozens of information sessions and literally thousands of choices for what to do next year. i am not particularly stressed out and i am at peace with literally not knowing where next year will take me. but maybe i should be! this is a BIG deal. this is the start of my career, my journey on the road to my own personal legend. is it crazy to say that i am nervous because i am not feeling more overwhelmed by this enormity? i am not overwhelmed by potentially having a teaching job next year, but i am literally worried about never finding what i am truly 'meant' to do.

i know the type of life that i want to live, and the values that i want to live by - hopefully along this road, the whole world is conspiring and i just haven't noticed yet.

rock the boat.

what a way to start 2007: aboard a luxurious ship, with hundreds of young people, decadent food and alcohol paid for by our parents.

day 1: it was pouring rain in new orleans. torrential downpour. tornado warnings. we quickly got on our way sailing down the mississippi river.

day 2: cloudy, but i was not yet discouraged. there was still loads of time to aquire a killer tan. new years was celebrated with hundreds of balloons being dropped from the roof, and hundreds of people dancing in the centrum of the ship (and one guy grooving in a glass elevator going up and down just before midnight!). my parents partied with andrew and i in one of the lounges and even beat us to the dance floor! they left at 2, and i think i may have gone to bed as the sun hit the horizon in the morning...
mom and dad all jazzed up for new years eve:



day 3: slightly painful in the AM, but the sun was calling me! i spent all day sunning on the deck, exploring the ship and sitting in a hot tub. tough life.
food could be eaten at any hour of the day. literally. at our table we had a lovely family from alabama, and the older couple quickly became my adoptive grandparents. i idolized them: a hummer-driving, gambling-obsessed, cosmo-drinking lady paired up with the dry humour of a man who used to own an ice cream restaurant. i LOVED them.

day 4: georgetown, grand cayman. sigh. we got off the ship, hired a cab and went directly to the beach, and buried ourselves there all day. we got up for a few walks down the beach (corona's in hand) and a few floats in the ocean. the sand is truly like silk and the ocean is azure blue. beautiful. the day was completed with a midnight buffet and pool party under the stars.

day 5: we were supposed to go to a port in the mayan riviera, however due to high waves, we had to change our plans. the boat did rock quite a bit, but i never felt that it made me uncomfortable. some people were disappointed to miss the port, but the staff were excited because it was replaced with a night out in cozumel! plus, seriously, we can't do anything about the weather and there are worse places to be stuck than on a luxurious boat in the middle of the caribbean sea.
andrew all dressed up during a scavenger hunt:



day 6: island of cozumel. we took a catamaran ride out to a snorkelling location (yes, it is true, my mother drank beer before 9 AM in the morning), and then lounged on a 'private, secluded beach' (only inches away from an extremely large resort complex). we ocean kayaked, floated on air mattresses and drank margaritas like they were going out of style. the afternoon was spent window shopping and experiencing the debauchery of carlos 'n charlies. my parents had the luxury of watching my brother have a litre of sangria poured down his throat, lucky them!
floating in cozumel:



day 7: last full day at sea. i was really lucky to have met so many wonderful people on the cruise, so i spent most of my last day with them. we danced up a storm at the club (closing it, obviously!), socialized in the hot tub for hours on end and lost all our money in the casino. it was a late night, once again. painful to get up to retrieve our passports after only a few seconds of sleep.

day 8: you may have realized that i did absolutely nothing productive on this cruise. and, you would be right. i did, however, finish two whole books and one magazine. AND, i got to spend some quality time with my family, which was long overdue. lucky for me, we got to spend another 36 hours together as our plane got delayed in new york, and we missed our connection in toronto.

tired, tanned and slightly tired of each other, the fleming family survived their (potentially) last family vacation. apparently next time the trip is on me. i better get a good job. a really, really, really good job! (and that would only pay for our alcohol bill...)

the big easy.

the last time i went on a family vacation, i was in grade 12. so, it has been awhile since the fleming family all got together and took the world by a storm. as a christmas gift, my parents surprised andrew and i with a week-long cruise out of new orleans. to be completely honest, i was most excited with our days in new orleans before the cruise!

we flew in via phili on december 28th with no problems. considering MANY people on our cruise had flight delays and tornado warnings when they arrived on the 30th, we were very lucky. i knew that hurricane katrina had severely devasted new orleans, but aside from the immediate coverage in 2005, i was really unaware of the current state of the city. i was excited for two days of music, soul and good food but i was also looking forward to an eye-opening, sobering experience.

my first impression was the sheer emptiness at the airport. there were absolutely no planes, and very few people. new orleans is certainly not a hub airport, but i didn't expect it to be so dead. since katrina, tourist rates have severely dropped off, and the population of the city has been depleted by half. full neighbourhoods and completely empty. driving through suburbs, there are no cars, no children playing in the streets and few open businesses. certain areas look like ghost towns. cab drivers and tour operators kept telling us how thankful they were that we had come to visit, and for our contribution to the local economy.

upon arrival at our hotel in the french quarter, there is less indication that anything has changed. the french quarter was almost completely unaffected by the flooding after the storm. tourists seemingly swarmed the strip clubs along bourbon street (although apparently it still looks empty to many residents), restaurants have lines that snake out the door, and street performers play to large crowds. however, after converstation with several locals, we learned that many businesses have only recently re-opened, that street performers have only begun to entertain and return to the city, and that many residents still have to rebuild their entire lives and houses.

one tour operator asked that we tell others the truth about new orleans. the truth is, i have never visited a more welcoming, lively, colourful city in my life. it is so obvious that residents love their city, and are so proud of where they live. tourists are visiting, businesses are being rebuilt and residents are gradually filtering back into the city. however, new orleans is not yet alright. they say it will be decades before the city fully recovers. the news has not done justice of reporting the real situation in the city: flooding has demolished entire communities, and nothing has been done. houses are still overturned in the ninth ward. emergency trailors have been donated by the government for residents to live in while they rebuild their homes, but many are inoperable due to a shortage of electricians to hook them up to power. crime and vandalism runs rampant.

the best thing we can do for new orleans is to visit, and to contribute to their local economy. the city is damaged - but it is far from a lost cause. however, if you DO visit new orleans, do not keep yourself isolated to only the french quarter, where less has changed. venture out into where the majority of the city lived, where they swarmed the superdome, and hid in attics during the three weeks of flooding after the storm. while i was there, 40,000 students from various universities were participating in a habitat for humanity project in the ninth ward.

my days in new orleans were amazing: i ate delicious fried chicken, and beignets; listened to dr. john at a local jazz club; and met incredible local citizens who have taken on the enormous job of loving new orleans back to life.

joyeux noel.

happy boxing day, folks. today i watched the most beautiful christmas movie i have ever seen. 'joyeux noel' tells the (loosely based on a true story) story of a christmas eve during world war one where french, german and scottish troops come out of their trenches to no man's land to shake hands with enemies, bury the dead, play music and play soccer. the story is simple, moving and completely encapsulates the meaning of christmas.

aside from coming down with strep throat, my christmas was splendid. a long sleep-in followed by the most delicious brunch eventually led to present opening. (we are in no rush in the fleming household!) the evening featured a dinner table of 15 spilling into the living room, charades and more present-opening. a few moments that made it even more memorable:

1. my granny telling a story (over appetizers) about how her prosthetic breast floated away from her while swimmming with a babe in arms. she proceeded to ask her gentlemen companion to 'fetch her breast'...

2. when many would not, my 90 year-old granny rose to the challenge and acted out the 'amazing race' during charades. i was dearly worried that she would never rise out of the ready, set position!

3. me clapping after my dad's sermon at the 7 o'clock children's service on christmas eve. apparently we don't really clap after sermons. people generally clap after speeches, and performances, why not sermons??!

4. my brother and i sneezing a collective 20 times during church.

5. my aunt successfully acting out 'the happy hooker' during charades.

6. my brother modelling his new 'sexy' boxer shorts for the entire extended family.

i hope you all had a lovely christmas with loads of joy and jolly. AND, that you made the wise decision to avoid the crowds on boxing day. the christmas season cannot be rejuvenating and relaxing if we are back to fighting over parking spots 12 hours after our turkey dinner!

peace and love to all.

that's the spirit.

the other day my associate teacher mentioned that she felt that the 'magic' of christmas has become overshadowed with last minute shopping sprees, busy social calendars and stress. i realized that i couldn't remember the last time that i had enjoyed the preparations for christmas. particularly during my undergrad, exams always took priority over the holiday cheer. for the past five years, i have woken up after exams and realized that i had four days left until christmas! i missed walks in the snow, decorating the tree, shopping without the rush and having the time to actually enjoy the season. christmas passed in the blink of an eye.

working in a school was the first thing that changed it all for me this year. it is impossible NOT to get into the spirit of christmas when kids start talking about santa on december first. their eyes light up when we read holiday stories (we now read stories about hanukkah, christmas, kwanzaa etc), and they make it impossible to have any semblance of learning with their minds wandering to visions of sugar plum fairies and new ipods. teachers started wearing classic "teacher" sweaters with cabins, reindeer and mistletoe embroidered across their front. note: in case you haven't already guessed, i will never be caught dead in a "teacher" sweater. i can't even bring myself to wear holiday earings. they won't match my power suits!

the icing on the christmas cake was this weekend. my whole family was home and we spent friday night decorating the tree and listening to classic holiday cd's. saturday was present wrapping (with christmas movies on, of course) and sunday was baking and christmas cards. for the first time in my short life, i am almost ready for christmas and the day is still a week away! i now have SEVEN full days to soak up the magic of this time of year.

this evening i attended a christmas party a friend's house. the decorations, the conversation, the food -- everything was planned to put us in the christmas mood. driving home, i couldn't remember the last time i had felt this happy and appreciative about a holiday.

i can't wait to wake up tomorrow morning and try to focus on my job. ooops. in the midst of all this christmas spirit, i have kind of forgotten about my job. maybe the kids will be too excited to notice.

nothing but the truth.

kids say the darndest things. they really do. my days are continually made brighter by their witty remarks, completely unbeknownst to them. obviously i laugh with them, at them... even behind their backs. but they can never know how hilarious i really think they are. how would they ever take my discipline seriously when they know i am laughing inside?

for example, as i am trying to teach a very very serious lesson (can you pictures it?) on patterning, this kid finds tape and creates a mustache for himself. speaking in a british accent, he says, "hello, i am king arthur..." WHAT? where do they get these things? caught somewhere between anger at the interuption and genuine glee that he has actually heard of a major historical figure, i simply continued the lesson and took the tape away. i turn back around for a few minutes, and these kids have found more tape and have created beards for themselves as well and suddenly i am in a room of old british generals. it was literally impossible to keep a straight face. this morning, to show that i could play their game -- i wrote on the board, and turned around with my own masking tape mustache. it was quite the fashion statement, let me tell you.

i have another kid who lies directly to my face. and to every other face in the building. his lies are so bad that it is almost flabbergasting. picture something along the line of this: you watch a child take a book and put it into his backpack. when you explain later that you are looking for the book, the child searches frantically along with the others and when approached he answers in the most innocent voice, "no miss fleming, i haven't seen it..." logic, truth and honesty mean nothing to this kid. he downright lies ALL the time! he wouldn't even begin to change his story until i took his bag to look for myself... and after that the story would take on a life of its own. seriously, this was not the way it was for me! i once lied to my parents right to their face (after being caught swiping a twenty from my mom's purse when i was 7) but i broke down after about 30 seconds. these kids can make up quite the scenarios, and go on for days!

other moments of note:

1. to a non-pregnant teacher while poking her tummy: "is there a baby in there?"

2. catching the kids passing a note asking, "do you even like so-and-so? she is in gred too"

3. child: "miss fleming, are you married?"
me: "no."
child: "why?"
me: "because i haven't found the time yet"
child: "well, you look like you should be married"

4. during lunch:
my class: "miss fleming, can we play the quiet game?"
me: "what is that?"
my class: "we are really quiet and you tell us if you hear voices"
me: "gee, let me think..." (of course, they will ALWAYS have my permission to play the quiet game)

5. during shared reading:
me: "can anyone tell me a fact about animals?"
kid: "turtles are faster than chickens"
me: "at what?"
kid: "at life"

6. in jk/sk:
me: "can anyone tell me about the letter b?"
kid raising his hand, about to explode with excitment: "well... it is.... well.... on the weekend, i went to grandma'sand she gave me a dollar and then i had a sleepover in napanee and mom said that i couldn't eat more cake and in the summer i want to go swimming."

bad day.

i have never been one who relishes in other people's misery, but if you happen to be, then this is your post. my day yesterday was certainly one for the books. there was not simply one terrible, awful, no-good thing that contributed to my very bad day (did you notice my reference to classic children's literature?), but an accumulation of small things that led me to believe that i should spend the rest of my day lying in bed, without risk of causing greater harm to anyone who came into my wake.

i woke up with good intentions. i read the newspaper in bed and got up at a reasonable time, pumped to head for the gym. when i went out to my car (which i park at my next door neighbours house because they have a second house elsewhere in the world) there was a *lovely* note on my car from the mrs. asking me to please offer them access to their driveway. now, in theory, this is not something that would usually bother me. most people prefer to have access to their own driveways! however, a few days earlier i had spoken with the mr. who had said it would be fine. in fact, i was under the impression that they liked it (particularly when they were out of the country), because it gave the impression that someone was home. this, however, was not the first note that i have had the priviledge of finding under my windshield. every time they come home, they write a note to the "owner of the car" demanding that it be moved. then, i take the time to sort it out with them. believing that i am permitted to use the driveway again, i park away for the months they are gone and whenever they return to canada i am lucky enough to find another note. does this family have substantial memory loss? how can they NOT know whose car it is when it has always been mine in the past? if they don't want me to use their driveway when they are home - that is fine - but a little politeness never hurt.

on the way home from the gym my water bottle burst in my gym bag essentially ruining my little black book of addresses/lists/notes. i love inky pens but in this case i was not in love with the inky mess on every page.

next, i decided to run a quick errand to buy a christmas gift for a family friend. on the way out of the store i picked up a nail polish to look at, and the plastic wrapper slipped off. as if in slow motion, the RED nail polish dropped to the floor, smashed into a million itty bitty little pieces covering my new pants, the store floor and a huge display of products with a bloody massacre. in my attempt to clean up i also cut my finger. what a sight for the customers coming into the store. somehow i got out of the mess without having to pay a cent. i am still not sure how i managed that one!

at this point it wasn't even 1PM. i return home to my father who has gone christmas shopping for andrew. fittingly he purchased an item for my brother that i had JUST purchased for my father the day before! i didn't even have the energy to care.

i tried to watch CSI but the tape stopped half way through the episode. now it was simply hilarious.

completely defeated, midway through a CSI episode i conceded defeat to the day and fell into my bed ready to fall asleep for the night. too bad it was still only 3PM.

denied.

what i wouldn't give to be independently wealthy right about now.

in order to fund my alternative practicum in mexico for three weeks in march, i applied for a bursary through the university. the whole process of applying was very bureaucratic and specific - it was very frustrating to put together an application when three people were guiding me in different directions. i began to doubt my wording and my overall vision, ennerved by the overtly political process. in the end, however, i handed in an application i was generally proud of - i believe i had an interesting, dynamic, unique learning project on the incorporation of community service in international schools.

in my inbox this evening, an e-mail beginning, "we regret to inform you..." arrived. at least they put the "we regret to inform you..." in the first line so i didn't have to read on with false hopes! the application was unsuccessful. no explanation. i am left with no sense of what i did wrong, or by extension, what they were looking for in an ideal application. i thought my application was thought-provoking and interesting, but i am sure it was only one of many! i sat at the computer and realized i had become completely unenriched by the process. it is true -- if successful i would have 600 dollars in my hand -- but it is worth it to spend countless hours applying for bursaries, writing essays and answering questions only to be rejected with no further comment? i realize that this is the real world, not grade two, but it is very discouraging to have direction, motivation and an adventurous spirit - yet in the academic world, that is clearly not enough. perhaps they wanted a proposal with a more rigid academic framework, or a more thorough investigation of an educational question. i am no academic -- i love working with children and i love travelling -- and working abroad would merge my two passions. at what age did pure passion leave the equation? the best teachers are not necessarily the most academic, the best educators simply have a pure love for what they do.

ultimately, i will be going on my alternate practicum regardless of this disappointing setback. i know that it may not be the most financially viable plan, but this is something that is important to me, and i will not let a group of academics who read about me on paper get me down.

anyone need a babysitter?

the comfort zone.

teacher's college is a life of constant transition. however, it is not a wandering/adventurous type of change, it is an unsettling/disrupting life of back and forth. my time is divided between classes at the faculty in kingston, and my practicums in ottawa. the problem is, we only spend a few weeks in each location. as soon as i am getting settled, comfortable with one housing situation, connected with a group of friends/colleagues and falling into a routine - it all ends, i get uprooted, and i have to start again.

there is no way that we can be operating at full capacity with this level of disruption in our lives. while i have never been someone who needs stability (in fact, i reject the claustrophobia of a safe, comfortable life), i would rather be constantly on the move, or temporarily settled. the courses at the faculty are (for the most part) painfully boring, but my time in kingston has been redeemed by new friends and some inspiring profs. teaching in ottawa is exhausting, and it feels weird to be back in barrhaven, but it is wonderful to be reconnecting with old friends and working with kids full-time. neither is perfect, but this balance between the two is not really creating an equilibrium in my life.

i am realizing more and more that i am craving something -- that i am lacking something in my life -- and i am still not quite sure what it is. i crave a comfort zone, but in a sense i ultimately reject the very notion as it feels mundane.

my classes at the faculty end tomorrow and i am heading back to ottawa for my next placement which begins on monday. but first, i am heading to burlington and st. catherines for some quality extended family time. saturday i will get to see my 'little' brother on stage and bear witness how cool he has become, leaving me his dust!

ms. fleming.

mr. fleming
mrs. meflemin
ms. flemingo
ms. fllemng

those are some of the random names that i have gotten from my jk/sk's over the past few weeks. until now, i never realized that fleming was a difficult word for little ones to say. i would LOVE to go by ms. sarah, but unfortunately, mme. sarah the french teacher stole the name first!

i am into week three of my practicum, and have settled nicely until my new routine. i struggle through my groggy, painful mornings and the hour of traffic on the way home. i have had two colds in three weeks, and can't remember the last time i was this tired by 8 o'clock at night. is this my daily routine for the rest of my life? if my day from 6 am to 6 pm is dedicated to getting up, teaching, and getting home, when do i live my life that is part of the so-called work/life balance? i have been neglecting the gym, neglecting e-mails and am seriously out of touch with anyone over the age of 5.

however, i have also never experienced a more rewarding day job. getting through to a particular child, watching their eyes light up as the light bulb goes off in their head -- their is nothing like it. i laugh more than i expected to, i am continually surprised by their observations and i have never heard so many i love you's.

how do i find a happy medium? there must be a way to enjoy the work week, and still find time for ourselves. and i don't even have a husband or child! this might not be something that i will be able to remedy until i have a class of my own.

for now, since it is already 9:30, i think i'll sleep on it. sigh. the crazy life of a teacher!

tdot.

hello strangers.

my whirlwind 3.5 month adventure to europe is finished.
my fairly random trip to iowa has recently passed.
and i am stuck in kingston attending the college of cut and paste.

so what better excuse than a road trip to toronto to catch up with some old friends?

many factors tried to impede my journey. in 48 hours, my laptop got fried, my car broke down and my cell phone temporarily broke. life was so much easier with a backpack on.

but, i broke my bad aura and jumped in the car eager for a weekend of good friends, new exploring and stiff drinks. it is funny how i live in ontario and visit toronto on a regular basis -- but i never go exploring. when i was a kid, i did all of the 'touristy' things, but haven't again since the infamous band trip of grade ten. i usually drop in to toronto on may way someplace else... to the cottage, to burlington, for cheap flights to europe. or, with the sole purpose of a party and catching up with friends. this occasion began in a similar manner: indian princess jessie bass-west was in toronto for a brief birthday celebration and i just couldn't miss out.

once i parked my car at my perma parking spot outside of steve john's house, i jumped on the subway. (what i would give for ottawa to have some decent public transportation!) for all you shoppers, fyi, there has been an european invasion at the eaton centre! zara, my oh-my-god-the-reason-to-go-shopping-in-europe-store, has joined the ranks of H&M and abercrombie & fitch. too bad i am dead broke. my backpacking-style adventure began when i tried to locate jessie at a pub at 800 king street east. about 40 minutes later i hit the dvp, and realized she has probably written 800 king street west. oops. jessie felt terrible, but i was refreshed! for the first time, i had actually walked in toronto. i never just walk here in canada. in europe, it would have been perfectly normal for me to walk an hour to get somewhere, but in canada, i complain over a 10 minute commute.

the evening was a blur of good food, dancing and catch-up visits with visiting jessie and other toronto folk. the following day, i continued my foot exploration of toronto in kensington market, queen street etc. i left toronto re-energized and balanced. not only had i re-connected with wonderful friends, (safe trip tomorrow jessie!) but i had also taken to the streets to see some of the beautiful cities that surround me. in canada, we may not have the extensive history or old architecture of europe, but we have plenty to discover.

over the next few months, i plan to fill my europe and iowa void by doing just that.

scattered.

i had some free time today, and i started to catch up on the blogs of all my friends that are scattered all across the world. especially being in another university town, it really struck home that i will never again be in the same city as all of my friends.

i went for a run in ames (a really lovely university town an hour north of des moines) this morning, and i started reminiscing about how easy everything was. if i wanted a gossip-fest, i only had to go into the kitchen of 454 frontenac. if i needed some quality alyssa time, she was only a quick breakfast date away.

with erin in colombia, ginny in mexico, jessie in india, carolynn in london, kristin in france and many other lovely people in various wonderful countries, it will never be the same. not to say that the friendships will end, but the consistency, the convenience and the quantity of time will change drastically. all of this - which i never even thought of as luxuries until now - is replaced with expensive phone calls, quick e-mails and blogs.

i certainly don't resent all my friends for going out and seeing the world. in fact, it is what i plan to do myself when i graduate from teacher's college, but as we grow up and go on new adventures, we will settle all around the world. i always pictured erin, ktq, carolynn and i as little soccer mom's together (now wouldn't that be a sight?). but most likely, the four of us will never be living in the same city again!

aside from mising them, i am so proud of my friends for going out on their own. i will just have to get much better at writing e-mails!

off again.

after being in canada for only a week (most of it spent at the cottage), i am off again on another adventure. i still have a few more posts to add on europe: one on paris, another on the crazzzy flight home, and another on what i miss about the continent. but for now, i must switch gears.

tomorrow morning, at some ungodly hour, i am flying to the american midwest. to be honest, i do not know what to expect from iowa. thanks to elena, i know there are over 93,000 farms in the state. i have also heard that the des moines airport is the biggest in iowa, and it only has TEN gates! i have never seen the canadian prairies, but i think that is what i picture - farm land that goes as far as the eye can see. jokes have included exploding cows and exploding cheerios, so i think i am in for quite the ride. lucky for me, i will also be able to attend the iowa state fair. i am sure no good will come of that!

more than anything, i am excited to be travelling again. i know that this is not a lifestyle that can be maintained by a girl who has not yet started to earn a living, but i feel most alive when i am seeing the world. twenty four hours after flying into ottawa, i was off to the cottage. and after a week there with lovely visits with all of our extended family, i am off again. staying in one place is comforting, but i am not ready to pick that place just yet. to paraphrase steinbeck, perhaps i cannot stop moving because i have not yet found all of my homes.

iowa may not have been my top vacation destination, but i am willing to go just about anywhere. i anticipate that this will be a vacation that blends excitement with huge amounts of corn.

mussels in brussels.

brussels has an identity crisis. it is a city that is almost impossible to describe. it has one of the most beautiful central squares that i have seen in almost all of europe, but yet its main tourist attraction is a pitifully small statue of a small boy peeing. and if you ask the story of mannekin pis, no one seems to know.

for me, brussels was more of a culinary adventure than anything else. the city was beautiful, but it did not leave me inspired. the food, however, made the trip worthwhile. from mussels and frites, to belgium waffles, to chocolate so good it melts in your mouth. i do not think i have ever eaten so much in twenty four hours in my life!

one day was enough to see most of the main sites, but it was a good thing i left, to escape the calories!

had a great trip.

amsterdam is a VERY unique city. everyone rides their bikes, the stench of weed floods the air outside of 'coffeeshops' (or smart and/or energy shops as they like to call them) and prostitution is a legal, successful business. however, beyond all the usual fuss of the city being highly liberal, it is a beautiful city to wander in. brown cafes (bars) abound, cafe culture flourishes, and the web of canals and narrow houses create an atmosphere unlike any other european city.

the legalized prostitutes and drugs may bring many people to the city; but i was drawn to the vibrant culture, interesting city structure and observing the side effects one city's attempt at pursuing liberal policies.

first of all, i never felt that drugs were in my face. i never witnessed anyone smoking a spliff in a public location, i was never approached for a sale, and unless i was walking by a coffeeshop, i never would have noticed a difference. in canada, people had a field day when the government considered decriminalizing weed, yet, it seems to function in amsterdam quite appropriately. in fact, i have heard it is generally the tourists who get ridiculously baked and cause problems. it is something to think about anyway. could the same experiment work in north america? i think many people worry that having rules and laws is better than no rules at all. but, is it possible that young people would actually smoke LESS if they had no rules to break? is it the drugs, or breaking the rules that they are drawn to? i don't know the answers to these questions, i am simply putting them out there.

the red light district is entirely another story. i ventured out one night, curious to see what it was like for myself. again, other than a few sex shops, there is no way to tell that prostitution is legal UNTIL you reach the scuzzy district itself. quiet, quaint streets open up into two long streets, filled with sex shops and strip clubs crowded with gawking men. in fact, i was probably one of only a few women, all of which were tourists! red lit windows lined the streets and displayed prostitutes of all races and sizes, waiting for customers. if the curtain was closed, they were in business. to be completely honest, i kind of got a kick out of watching the whole thing. it did not feel real. it felt like i was on a film set! however, i happened to catch the eye of one of the working women through the window, and her face has stuck with me for several days. i couldn't help but wonder, what brought her to this place? did she feel degraded by her job? did she like her job? was she happy? was it worth it?

i only had 24 hours in amsterdam, and the other thing i had always wanted to see was the anne frank house. i read here diary in grade school, but have always been fascinated by holocaust history, having taken many classes at university. they have transformed the house where anne and her family hid for two years into a touching, simple museum. part of the bookcase which hid the staircase to their apartment is still original, as well as all the pictures she cut out of magazines to decorate her walls. of course, the rooms were mostly empty (the furniture having been reposessed shortly after their capture), but the walk through was a sobering one. eight people lived in this small hidden apartment for almost 800 days. i kept thinking that my life has been so easy in comparison. they could not go outdoors, make noise, or do anything that could attract attention. in short, they could not really be children. anne went through more fear in her short life than most of us ever will. it really struck a chord.

my short trip to amsterdam was a good one. i didn't see any cows falling from the sky, or creatures crawling out of the ground, as many people do, but i had a brief look into a reality very different from my own.

the great trek.

most of my journey so far has gone in some kind of logical order. i have taken only a few long-haul trains, but most of my trips have been from cities that are fairly close to one another. until i decided to go from split to amsterdam.

yes, i am insane. and yes, it is as far as it seems. as soon as i went to croatia, i knew my journey back towards london (where my flight leaves next week) would be a long one, but i never guessed how eventful it would be. my train just arrived in amsterdam, so i have gone two days and two nights without a shower, a proper bed and my sanity.

the first leg of my journey began with an overnight ferry from split to ancona, italy. i did not pay for a cabin, so i was stuck sleeping in these airplane-style seats. lucky for us - or so we though - the boat was air conditioned. however, waking up at 1 in the morning shivering uncontrollably in a tank top and shorts was not as refreshing as i had first envisioned! in these sub-zero temperatures, i only slept for about four hours.

arriving in ancona at 7 AM, i was instructed that the train station was about 1 kilometre away. i hoped to catch an 8:15 train to milan, so i set off with my backpack, thinking that i had oodles of time. but something didn't feel right. so i stopped a lady who spoke little english, and she responded, "train station, about two kilometres". phew, i thought. i can still make it. fifteen minutes later, i still felt that i wasn't making any progress. i stopped another man, who said, "oh. train station AT LEAST three more kilometres." what is with europeans having NO sense of direction and distance? an hour later, i crawled into the train station, with five minutes to spare.

when i boarded my train to milan, i was slightly flustered and completely exhausted from my hike. as i lifted my backpack into the air to put it on the rack above me, it slipped out of my hands, and landed on my face. it gets better. i was wearing my glasses - and they got smashed. so now i out of breath, and blind. perfect. i am left with contact lenses for the rest of the trip, and still haven't figured out where i am going to find 300 dollars to buy new glasses when i get home. but that is another story!

i got to milan, excited that i would have five hours to explore the city before my next train departed. after searching the station for a few minutes, i discovered that there was only ONE ticket office open for international train tickets, and the line was about a mile long. needless to say, i saw none of the city. after more than two hours in line, i spent ten minutes being yelled at by the dude, and had enough time to quickly book some hostels in amsterdam and brussels. only ONE ticket office for all international tickets? what were they thinking? the problem was: you couldn't complain, or go and talk to someone, because there was no one to talk to. and, even if there was, i don't speak any italian! so we all stuck it out in line, our patience tested to the max.

i arrived in basel 30 minutes late, with five minutes to run to my overnight train to amsterdam. i slept relatively comfortably, was served breakfast on board, and only got to amsterdam 1.5 hours late. not bad, all things considered!

48 hours later, i have switched the heat and sun, for rain and cold. the biggest journey of my trip is done, and i am eager to live up my last six days in europe.

three months... and counting.

three months is a long time. it is an entire semester at uni, the entire summer in canada, and almost 100 days. some days, it feels like i have been gone forever. life has continued on at home, and i haven't been apart of it. my cousin had a baby, my family is at the cottage, and the garden has bloomed. other days, it feels like i left only yesterday. i have lived easily with only a few changes of clothes, only two phone calls home (sorry!) and and adventurous spirit.

it is funny, though, because there are a lot of ways that you can tell, some just by looking at me, that i have been away from home for a quite awhile.

1. i am perma dirty. seriously. i have dirt on my feet that will no longer come off in the shower! i will have to soak for days when i get home.

2. my toiletries are now an international collection: shampoo from germany, hand cream from spain, soap from croatia.

3. i have started to throw out my own clothes because NO human being on this earth should have to wear them again, or look at me wearing them.

4. standards have dropped. luxuries for me now include: showers with warm water (not necessarily hot), hostels that provide bedding (and if they provide a towel too... then it is heaven!), a semi-clean bathroom, fans (not even air conditioning!), a mirror.

5. i have accumulated a random bag of coins that i cannot exchange from the various countries in eastern europe that are not on the euro. it is weighing me down significantly, and i will probably never ever be able to use them again!

6. i am completely accustomed to men in speedos. i know longer look twice. bring on the speedos! boardshorts don't show enough skin. ha.

7. i have completely run out of money.

8. i have taken over 2000 pictures, and almost filled TWO HUGE memory cards. i know, i know, it will take me a year to sort through them all.

9. my flip flops are worn through, almost to the ground!

10. i have changed races. my tan is so dark that my makeup no longer matches my skin colour.

11. i have learned to like... actually learned to LOVE... european coffee.

12. my lonely planet has been well used and well-loved. in fact, it is torn to shreds. every country that i have visited, or will not be visiting has been torn out. what i have left is a sad excuse for a book!

three months. 18 countries. and counting.

travelling solo.

i have been on my own again for the better part of two weeks, and i have had a lot of time to read, write in my journal, and just think. after five years of being busy almost every single day, i never realized how wonderful doing nothing could be. being alone in your own thoughts for hours, and days is certainly a growing experience. today, will tanning on the beach, i started thinking about what i have LOVED about travelling alone; and by extension, what i have disliked about it. like any other experience, there are good days, and bad days. but unlike many other experiences, the good days are REALLY good, and the bad days, well, they suck. i think travelling alone, with its pros and cons, is something everyone should do at least once in their lives. in budapest, i met a man whose wife had recently started a new job. he had always wanted to backpack, so off he went to eastern europe for three weeks. i love that he had the guts to do that. i have met other people who are shocked and amazed upon meeting me. how could i travel alone? don't i get scared? aren't i lonely? i actually go to restaurants by myself? answer to all of the above: yes, yes, and yes. but, there is absolutely nothing more empowering, exciting and life-altering than navigating the world, and doing it on my own.

*when travelling alone, you are on your own schedule. you can do whatever you want, whenever you want, for however long you want. you do not have to compromise with anyone.
*you do not have to worry about arguing, fighting, disagreeing, stepping on anyone's toes, or being misinterpreted. no friendships can be broken or lost, and you do not have to argue about who is going to take the aisle seat.
*you do not have to argue over who will hold the map! because it is ALWAYS you, and you alone, who has to get your bearings in a new city.
*you have all the time in the world: to read, to write, to think. i have read more books and written more in my journal in these past three months than in the past five years put together.
*when travelling solo, you meet copious amounts of new people. often, people who travel in groups are less likely to make new friends on the road - because they aren't interested, or they don't need to. you can travel with them for a few hours, or a few days, and then go in seperate directions.

on the other hand:

*travelling solo can lead to loneliness. you can go hours, if not days without having a real conversation with someone. you are constantly chatting small talk: where you are from, what you do, how long you are travelling for. you begin to crave a meaningful conversation with someone who truly knows you.
*it is more difficult to sleep. i mean this in several capacities. firstly, it is hard to sleep in public places, because there is no one to keep an eye on your stuff. you are clutching your purse, using your bag as a pillow. there are so many horror stories of backpackers being robbed while sleeping on the train. as well, it is more difficult to find accomodation for one person. in hostels, there are often dorm rooms; but in places like croatia, guestrooms have been designed for couples, and few people want to rent to one person because they cannot charge as much. sometimes they even try and charge one person the price of TWO.
*evenings. during the day, it is easy to fill up your time by walking around, sightseeing, going to a park etc. but in the evenings, there are less things for a person to do alone, particularly a female. you get tired of going to restaurants and bars alone, and walking home alone in the dark is something i try to avoid.
*you are often on guard. i don't want to sound like i am always worrying, because i am not, but you really have to think about who you can trust. i probably am a bit TOO trusting, while many other female backpackers are TOO paranoid. in my experience, the world is generally filled with extremely nice people. however, travelling alone, you cannot take chances. perhaps someone genuinely wants to help you carry your bags, but the tourist books, and everyone at home would say 'warning warning'. it is something that is often on your mind.
*travelling alone is more expensive: you have no one to share accomodations with, share groceries, or split the cost of a rental car.

these are only the first things that came to mind. i am sure there are dozens more positive and negative things about travelling alone. in my opinion, the good certainly outweigh the bad, and i wouldn't have changed anything about this trip!

when i first travelled alone to australia, katie made me a mix cd that started with the song that goes, 'here i go now, on my own'. i still think of it as my theme song to my travels.

island hopping.

for some unknown reason, croatia has always been a place i have wanted to visit. there is something about the country that implies undiscovered, mysterious, breathtaking. breathtakingly beautiful it is, but undiscovered it is not. considering the situation in the early 1990s, it is incredible that the country is not only safe to visit, but has rebuilt its tourist industry completely!

after two days in the jewel of dubrovnik, i boarded a ferry, and began my tour of the croatian islands. first stop: korcula. a typical medieval dalmation town, it is claimed to be the birth place of marco polo. considering the lack of evidence, i think it is more of a joke they are playing on tourists to scam them of more money! for one euro, you can climb the tower where he was 'born'. the old walled town is designed to protect the inhabitants from the winds circulating around the peninsula, and it is filled with an abundance of pizzerias, cafes and jewellery stores. in croatia, accomodation is not something that you organize ahead of time. after getting off the ferry, residents offering private accomodation are standing there, ready to greet you. a free-for-all, the tourists compete for the best priced accomodation in prime locations. it is quite difficult to find rooms for only one person at reasonable prices, but i have lucked in on each stop. in korcula, i stayed with a little italian woman, who spoke absolutely no english, and kept pointing at my tan saying, 'morte, morte'! slightly eccentric, she hugged me every five minutes, and filled my room with dolls from circa 1952. she took our picture, and has promised to send it to me in canada! lucky me. on my second day in korcula, i took a bus to a small town nearby which promised to have the best beaches on the island. i had been previously warned that croatia was NOT the place to go for sand beaches. but in lombarda, i found a sand beach to top all sand beaches! (thank you lonely planet!) as it squished through my toes, filled my bag and stuck to my skin, i had never been happier.

at 6AM this morning, my catamaran embarked for hvar. what is wrong with croatians? why do they feel the need to wake up so early? SIX AM? anyone who knows me, knows this was a difficult task for me. as per usual, at 5:45, i woke up in a panic, jumped out of bed, and ran to the harbour in under 30 seconds flat! hvar is stylish. with traffic-free marble streets and promenades full of gorgeous european tourists, sexy cocktail bars and gorgeous rocky beaches, a backpacker feels slightly out of their league! however, my room has been the most inexpensive yet, the beaches feel uncrowded and the locals are friendly and down to earth. i spent six hours today soaking up the sun, and several more writing in my journal in a cafe. tough life.

i have decided to stay in hvar for an extra night of perfection. the only thing i am lacking is company, so if anyone is bored -- come on over!

what about sarah?

i am a blogging failure. as i do with most new initiatives, i started out with my sights set high, that i would be able to update regularly, aiming for one post from every new city. well. scratch that.

as i got farther behind in blogging, sitting down to update you all on a full month of adventures seemed like a task too big to handle! feeling like a guilty student who avoids essays once they are already late, i avoided it completely. but over the past 24 hours, i have come to peace with my absence. is it not the intention of this trip to be experiencing europe, living it, and not sitting in an internet cafe, spending money that i do not have? i am back on the blogging train, and i will do my best to update when i can. but this time, i make no promises!

my last month has been incredibly full. in summary:

-travelled with kristin and carolynn for a beer, bratwurst and pretzel-filled time in munich.
-had a sobering day at the former dachau concentration camp.
-stayed two nights in an american military base in germany with some friends i made on the cruise, getting a taste of the very different life they live in.
-visited the old towns of rothenberg and nuremburg.
-drank wine and stayed in a beautiful b & b with carolynn in the rhine valley.
-travelled to berlin for world cup madness!
-trekked to sweden and denmark to visit erin for a brief 24 hours at her cisv camp.
-backtracked down to prague for a ridonculous weekend with jeff gulley and tim jebb in prague. most would have never survived it.
-tim and i continued on for a week, visiting the charming village of cesky krumluv in the south of the czech republic. toughest activity was floating down the lazy river in an inner tube, beer in hand!
-trained to vienna, where tim was stuck in bed with food poisoning, but i explored the city on my own.
-began the last leg of my trip, on my own, in budapest, fuelling my love of eastern europe.
-on the advice of another backpacker, went over to slovenia for three days, leisurely exploring ljublijana and the only island in the country, in bled.

and with that, i got on a hellishly long bus ride (17 hours!), and made it to croatia, where i am now. spent two days tanning in dubrovnik, and have now spent two more days sunning on the island of korcula. i am safe, happy, well-rested, and living up the last few weeks of my trip.

miss you all!

backpacker revolution.

have you ever heard of a flashbacker?

a new word to describe high maintenance backpackers who bring laptops, high quality electronic devices, rolling suitcases, hair straighteners and the like on so-called backpacking trips through europe. now this got me to thinking. do you have to be carrying a backpack to be considered a backpacker?

the notion of backpacking, to me, has always implied slightly grubby clothes, small amounts of luggage, and a tight budget; not high heels, blow dryers, ipods and copious amounts of makeup. in many ways i shouldn't be talking: i brought more than enough clothes, five pairs of footwear, and a fairly decent memory card and digital camera. but hostels with wireless internet? it seems like young people, more and more, can't live without luxury.

there is definitely a backpacking revolution taking place. comments welcome!

summer camp.

where: interlaken, switzerland. balmer's hostel, aka. the frat house.
what: outdoor adventure and extreme sport capital of europe.
when: june 29 - july 1, 2006.
who: myself, kristin and carolynn. three stylish, outdoorsy chickitas ready for a mountain vaycay.
why: to celebrate carolynn's birthday in style.

interlaken is between two glacial lakes, and surrounded completely by the alps. skiing, hiking, swimming, sky diving, canyoning... pretty much any risk you have ever had the urge to take is available for the hordes of young backpackers who come though the city every day. interlaken is the kind of place where you plan to spend a day, and a few bucks, but end up leaving a week later with a rather large dent in your wallet.

if there was ever any doubt, switzerland is damn expensive. staying for more than a few days means that your budget temporarily is thrown out of the window. i met up with kristin and carolynn at our hostel - so nice to be reunited with home friends in europe! for a nice change, we stayed at the campy balmers hostel, in a three bedroom room. that's right: no snorers, early-risers or strangers stumbling in late at night! balmers is the oldest privately owned hostel in switzerland, and it runs like a well-oiled machine. bars, activities, a late night club (meat market), restaurant, internet... and full of rich american tourists.

the first day, we headed up to the mountains to go hiking. there are dozens of hiking paths in the interlaken area, but we decided to hike up to a glacier. challenging, rainy, chilly, but also absolutely stunning and motivating, the hike was worth every effort. when we got to the top, we ate our ham and cheese sandwiches in a cabin overlooking the glacier, with some sort of rescue movie being shot in the background. not an everyday sight!

on the second day, carolynn's birthday, we took a walk to one of the glacial likes for frigid swimming, champagne and sun tanning. then, in the afternoon, we took to the skies for a parasailing adventure! there is nothing like flying as high as the birds for 40 minutes. floating, spinning, taking photographs and relaxing above the trees, we definitely were witness to the most spectacular views in the area. we capped off the evening with a traditional swiss dinner of cheese fondue, white wine and toblerone for a dessert.

unfortunately, interlaken is the only place in switzerland that i will have time to visit. the land of delicious chocolate, home of swiss army knives, and frustratingly still on their own currency, switzerland should be every camp kid's vacation destination.

the hills are alive.

innsbruck, austria, is probably not on the top of most people's travel plans, but i loved it. quelle surprise?

the town is nestled in a valley in the middle of the alps. the view from everywhere in the town is mountains! so gorgeous. innsbruck tourism and local hotels have a sweet deal where they pay for a guide daily, coach transportation and a hike for anyone who wants to do it. so, off i went, hiking in the alps.

our guide, werner, made the hike. an interior designer by winter, and a wilderness leader by summer, he was witty, funny, and educated us on the various flora and fauna. i also loved him, because he said 'walley', rather than 'valley', which i found absolutely charming.

we hiked up to 2,200 metres, above the tree line, and had fantastic views of the valley below. and then, we ate a traditional meal of dumplings and shandi (i may have the spelling wrong, but it is a mixture of lemonade and beer), and hiked back down to about 1,200 metres, where a bus picked us up.

what struck me the most, was a 74 year old german man that i was hiking with. he was on his 527th innsbruck hike. every year for his vacation, he comes to austria and does the free hikes. before he dies, he wants to have walked 777 hikes! i did not understand a word he said, but i found him absolutely inspiring. at 74, being able to keep up with 20 year olds!

at 70, i hope i am still climbing mountains.

cruisin'.

paradise found. for seven glorious days, i was in the lap of luxury. as a graduation gift (my diploma actually came in the mail this week!), my mum treated me to a royal caribbean cruise of greece and turkey.

we kept thinking that each thing was to good to be true, but it was really true! we would think, wouldn't it be nice if we could have breakfast in bed? oh, we could. or, wouldn't it be nice if we could wake up in a different country? yup, we did that too. or, wouldn't it be lovely to have two appetizers and three desserts? apparently that was no problem either. they had everything meticulously organized, with 800 people working on a ship with 2000 guests. a library, three pools, a climbing wall, six different bars/pubs, a gym, activities, live music, evening shows... the list goes on and on. after living the backpacking life for six weeks, this was almost overload.

as luck would have it, for the first two days, i was sick as a dog. a vicious cold is difficult to avoid when you are backpacking, and i was just as happy that i got to be miserable with a comfy bed, good food, my mum's company, and the ability to lie on the deck of a boat for hours on end.

there is no way that anyone could complain about this cruise. the weather was superb, we never had any rough seas, and never, in my entire life, have i seen so much food. we finished dinner every night at 11 PM, and by midnight there would be another buffet full of carved fruit, chocolate fountains and unlimited treats.

the most difficult part of being on a cruise, is getting to know the staff. from all around the world, these young people have left spouses, children and parents for six months at a time (with no days off), in order to provide for their families. they worked at least fourteen hours a day, and were managing on very little sleep. they were so kind, attentive, and thoughtful, but i felt incredibly guilty, because i could tell they really missed their families. the best thing we could do, was to get to know them as well as possible, and tip them the best we could - but it really did not feel like enough.

on a more positive note, the four ports of call were exciting, different, and interesting. we had two full days at sea (which i LOVED, and would have been happy to have more of), and visited three lovely, and one not-so lovely locations.

athens: i had always dreamed of greece, so i was extremely excited for our day in athens. we did a whirlwind tour of the parthenon, the olympic stadium, and the rest of the city. busy, crowded, and blanketed with thick air, athens was exactly what i expected it to be. i loved it!

kusadasi and ephesus, turkey: an absolute experience. the roman ruins of ephesus are magnificent, and the carpet-shopping experience of kusadasi was like no other. they bring you in, with no one expecting to buy a carpet, and when you have left, half the group has dropped big bucks on gorgeous turkish rugs. this little introduction to turkey has sparked my interest in a place that i knew little about.

crete: unfortunately, the port town of iraklio is ugly, but the island itself is lush, green and full of history. lonely planet recommends driving straight through iraklio, which is basically what we did. a visit to the minoan palace of knossos, discovered in 1900, and a visit to an archaeology museum afterwards definitely made this port stop.

corfu: only three kilometres from albania, corfu is (insert beautiful adjective here). mum and i took a day long coastal walk through small villages, hidden coves and sun-drenched beaches. it was so hot that i could feel the sweat falling off of my eyelashes, but 45 minutes lazing in the mediterranean certainly cooled me off.

now i am off the cruise, and back on my own. my mum was worried that i would have trouble readjusting to the backpacking way of live. i told her that for me, travelling anyway, anyhow, anywhere makes me happy. but if anyone wants to take me on a cruise, let me know, and i can be free tomorrow.!

the italian job.

so far, i have found nothing wrong with italy. in fact, i love each city more than i have loved the one before! there is absolutely no city in the world like venice. and, considering it has sunk significantly, there may not be for long. i envision venetians building additional floors on top of their houses, just moving up levels whenever the water is creeping up too high.

when i first got off the train in venice, i was not paying any attention. my friend nudged me, and i looked up, and i saw my first venice canal. i think i must have stared for five minutes. it was so beautiful. the lack of cars, the gondolas, the bridges... it really was just like in the movies.

now, for a few downsides to the city:

1. you can find anything in venice. but you can NEVER find it again. getting lost in venice is an hourly activity that i believe may have broken up several relationships, four marriages, and three groups of friends in the short time that i was there. everyone stares at their terrible free tourist maps, no one has any idea where they are going, and you always end up right back where you started.

2. it is bloody expensive! following along in a family tradition, i sat down to have a dessert and a drink at a cafe in san marco square. the atmosphere was perfect: a 200-year old cafe, live music, and delicious treats. two glasses of wine later, my friend and i were presented with a bill for 80 euros. that's right. for four glasses of wine, and two desserts, it cost me my entire life savings! as it turns out, we were charged an inordinate amount of money just to sit down, and for the live music. who knew? apparently, forty years ago, my grandparents paid 8 euros for a single coca cola in san marco square. this is one family tradition that i hope comes to an end!

3. it resembles a theme park. now this actually depends on your point of view. i kind of liked the cheesy gondolas, men dressed in striped shirts and accordions serenading tourists for 100 euros a pop. as long as you are satisfied with pictures, and do not plan to actually partake in any of these activities, you can actually make it through a visit to venice with a few euros left in your bank account. (but not many!)

4. public transportation. it is a definite bonus that there are no cars in venice, but it is unfortunate that the boat-buses take over an hour to get from san marco square to the train station! although, time has no value in venice, so the locals don't ever seem to mind. AND, in order to speed up the process, a private taxi seems like a good idea. oh wait, but a private boat taxi from san marco square to the airport may cost you 150 euros. hmmm. one hour or 150 euros? tough choice.

5. accessibility. travelling with a child in a stroller, a wheelchair or a heavy suitcase is extremely difficult in venice. there is no way to get over the bridges! believe it or not, i actually woke up at 4 o'clock in the morning to assist my mother with her ludicrously heavy suitcase (which was mainly filled with clothes and things that i was sending home)!!

despite its drawbacks, i have no legitimate complaints about venice. for a few days, a few hours, i was able to live in the sinking city, which does not stink nearly as badly as everyone claims, has killer jewellery, feels incredibly safe at night, and offers a new adventure each time you set out to explore.

romeo + giulietta.

on the way to venice, i stopped in verona. famous for being the setting of shakespeare's tragedy, verona is a veritable romeo and juliet theme park. they have virtually created a tourist industry over two characters that never actually existed. credit is definitely deserved, because it is certainly convincing!

despite the tourist traps, verona is beautiful. quiet, casual, romantic and not overun with tourists, wandering the streets you feel that this is what italy was supposed to look like. i know that the name brings people to the city, but what they fall for is the city itself. unlike rome or florence, there are actually whole streets, and whole squares that have no one in them. a local choir was singing hymns in the main square, and everyone was actually listening. i sat at a cafe for over an hour, and never felt like someone was waiting for my table. a children's skit was being presented to parents and tourists alike. it was incredibly refreshing.

romance was certainly in the air. my cappuccino even came with a heart made out of foam on the top. but all of these potentially overdone tactics actually worked, paired with the lovely setting.

guilty as charged, i fell for ALL the tourist traps. i actually paid the entrance fee to go into 'giulietta's house' and onto 'giulietta's balcony'. and i am not the only one. in the passage leading to her balcony, hundreds of people have left messages of love - both on the wall, and on sticky notes attached with gum. inside the house, people have written to juliet asking love advice. there is even a giulietta grave that tourists can visit! verona tourism must be sitting in their piles of money, laughing as i write this.

during my 24 hours there, i could not get this song out of my head. anyone who goes to red pine will know exactly which one i am talking about! i thought i would leave you with a few versus from my favourite indigo girls song, romeo and juliet:

A love struck Romeo sings the streets a serenade
He's laying everybody low
He's got a love song
that he made
He finds a convenient streetlight and he steps
out of the shade
And says something like
"You and me,
babe, how about it?"

Juliet says, "Hey, it's
Romeo!
You nearly gave me a heart attack"
Yeah well,
he's underneath the window now she's singing,
"Hey, la, my boyfriend's back
You shouldn't
come around here singing up to people like that"
Oh anyway
whatcha gonna do about it?

Juliet
The dice were
loaded from the start
And I bet and you exploded into my
heart
And I forgit, I forget the movie song
Now when
you gonna realize it was just that the time was wrong
Julie...

all roads lead to rome.

for a history geek, rome is a dream. so you can imagine how much i loved it!

the sense of history in the city is what hit me the most. as i stared at the colosseum, it was difficult to even comprehend the amount of people that had stood there before me. thousands of people for centuries have been living and dying in rome, and i have only been alive for 23 years. there is no feeling like that to make you realize your problems are not so large in the grand scheme of the world. canada is so young in comparison. rome was founded in 753 BC! i am a believer that studying history is an extremely important discipline. but studying it from textbooks is simply not enough. reading about the various emperors of rome does not even compare to the richness of seeing it in person. in two years, the students will have forgotten when caesar was assassinated, but they will never forget the feeling of seeing the colosseum for the first time. each crack, stone and column has experienced more of the world than any of us ever will.

needless to say, i loved every minute i spent in the city. everywhere that i stepped, history was screaming out to me. images were continually coming alive in my head of people before me. as i walked through the roman forum, i could envision people in roman times doing the same. rather than rushing through the city, which i could have done, i took the time to soak it all in. i would take a few steps, and just sit and stare, completely content that i was going to miss many of the things that i had always wanted to see.

i think having an appreciation for history, also makes you okay with not 'doing' a city. it is humanly impossible to see all of rome, but isn't that the point of travelling? by soaking up the atmosphere, the culture and the people, i experienced rome for a few days... but it will still be there tomorrow. young people often have a perception that they need to see it all - i have certainly been guilty of this myself. but life is long, and rome and all its ruins and magic will still be alive five, ten, even twenty years from now, and will be ready for another visit from me.

i mean, i missed the sistine chapel! i just ran out of time. who goes to rome and doesn't go to the sistine chapel? me, i guess. but it doesn't even bother me. i know that the three days i spent in rome are only the beginning of a lifelong romance that i plan on having with the city.

david and goliath.

florence is an absolute gem. there are simply too many wonderful things to do, and absolutely not enough time in two days to do them all. is this even a legitimate complaint?

i immediately fell in love with the terracotta roofs, the repetitive house facades, the deep-seeded artistic heritage and the surrounding green landscape of tuscany. however, at times, florence felt like a trip to disney world. an overwhelming amount of choices, with long queues that test your patience and more tourists speaking english than actual residents of florence. but, i figured, if i could stand in line for two hours to ride on space mountain, then i could stand in line for two hours to get into one of the most reputable and beautiful art galleries in the world. don't you think?

florence began with a good night out on the town. i randomly ran into a lovely girl from california that i had met in nice, and we recruited some other fun people from the hostel. unknowingly, we created the florence posse, a rather random assortment of young people who connected over a good flow of beer and great conversation. i paid for it the next day. we woke up at an ungodly hour of the morning to wait in line to see michelangelo's david at the galleria dell'Accademia. headache and all, i was awe-struck by the statue. and it was not just because of the minute size of his (ahem) thingy! did you know the statue is almost five metres tall? all jokes aside, david is flawless: his veins, muscle structure and features are all more human-looking than humans themselves. i stared at him for minutes, almost alone, simply trying to take it all in. calm only lasted for a few minutes, when i was overtaken by masses of annoying tour groups, and practically driven out of the gallery. the early rise was definitely worth it for five minutes alone with him.

i continued my time in florence with a climb to the top of the duomo bell tower, walks around the bustling piazza's, a shopping excursion at zara, a two hour wait for the uffizi gallery, and a trip across the infamous ponte vecchio. let me tell you, with the price of handbags and jewellery, florence is every girl's dream. (according to katie!)

i feel like a really developed a relationship with florence. i know this sounds cheesy, but it's true. i walked to a beautiful square, and looked out at florence on my last night, and as the sun set, i was genuinely sad to leave. the culture, and atmosphere in florence kind of gets under your skin, and as you begin to learn your way around and recognize certain cafes and streets, you understand why no one ever wants to leave.

incommunicado.

well hello folks.

my apologies for being so out of touch for the last 10 days or so. i know you were all burning with urges to read my blog, and were devastated when you realized i was seriously lacking in posts.

my mum came and met me, and we went on a glorious cruise of the greek islands and turkey. a relaxing, rejuvenating, divine and luxurious week. however, on the ship, internet cost a whopping 50 cents per minute (in american dollars). that's right. for 30 minutes of internet, it would have cost me 15 bucks! not that i don't love you all, but that is a bit outside of my budget.

anyway, i have returned to the land of sane internet costs, and have dedicated this evening's entertainment to trying to make up for lost time on my blog.

enjoy.

head and shoulders.

throughout my travels in europe, i have been in many churches. it has also been hot, so i have often been wearing tank tops or shorts. i completely agree that a church is a sacred place, and that a certain level of respect is required when visiting. my respect for the church and religion comes in the form of silence, reflection, and turning the flash off of my camera.

so far, on two occasions, i have been told that i cannot enter the church unless i cover my shoulders. in barcelona, and again at the basilica di santa croce in florence. surprisingly, i was really really angry. at the first, i had to borrow my dad's shirt to wear, but in florence, i did not have any other pieces of clothing with me. luckily, my scarf was large enough to drape over my shoulders. if i had not had a scarf with me, i would have been asked to don a medical-type blue sheet. now that is respect if i have ever seen it.

why is it that if men are wearing shorts, they are let in; but if a woman is wearing shorts, she has to wrap a sterilized blue sheet around her waist to make it look like she is wearing a skirt?

here is the thing. i am pretty sure, that if there is a god, that he has seen my shoulders, along with everything else. it is this uptight, conservative and sexist structure that is pushing young people away from religion.

i apologize to anyone (including my dad!) who i may have offended with this. i thought i needed more controversy in my blog.

pay it forward.

last night i had the most memorable dinner of my life. moments like these remind me that gestures of kindness can be small, and that things in life really do happen for a reason.

i went out for dinner at a local pizzeria that lonely planet recommended. i was sitting alone in a huge booth, reading, content to be having a sit down meal. a young italian family entered the restaurant and had nowhere to sit. the mother was pregant, and obviously very hungry! she approached me, and asked if they could sit with me. initially, i was fairly shocked, and wary, but i could not really say no.

a very pregant julia, her boyfriend caesar, and her 9 year old child marguerita sat down and joined me for dinner. and what a dinner it was! after about 30 seconds we were interacting as if we had been family forever. we ate off of each other's plates, learned about each other's lives and joked with one another. despite the language barrier, we had amazing conversation. i even gave little marguerita some canada stickers, and i think we bonded for life without any words. at the end, they thanked me for sharing my table and paid for my meal! they would not take no for answer. i have never met a kinder family, and i will remember the dinner with them forever.

small gestures of kindness. pass it along.

lean on me.

on the way from cinque terre to florence, i decided that a visit to pisa was in the cards. pisa is not a city that calls out for you to you to visit, except for one particular attraction. it is almost a 'been there, done that' type of notion, although i generally really hate those kind of travellers.

my first impression of the city was fairly dismal. the train station is not in an attractive area, and the tourist information booth was unhelpful, and completely devoid of tourists. it seems that people really only do go to pisa to see the leaning tower. i followed the crowds of people heading north, assuming they had all come for the same reason that i had.

when the tower first came into sight, i almost laughed. it looks completely ridiculous! how could a city be so famous for such a huge '*&% up'? i mean, it is not a small mistake, it is reallllly leaning.

i am glad that i have checked off pisa off of my to do list, but again, i don't like to be that type of traveller. you know the one i mean -- carrying top ten guides around with a pen putting neat little check marks next to every statue, monument and museum that they have quickly brushed by without truly experiencing the city. i am glad to be a full picture type of traveller, one who is not always concentrating on the 4 by 6 frame of my camera, or the highlights in my guide book.

despite the rant: the leaning tower of pisa, check.

via dell'amore.

i spent the last two days at the most charming location in italy. i urge you to add a visit to cinque terre to your life list of must see locations. situated on the steep coastline of western italy, the five villages that make up cinque terre - monterosso, vernazza, corniglia, manarola and riomaggiore - are part of a national park and unesco world heritage site. the homeland of pesto, cinque terre white wine and incredible views, a visit to cinque terre has made my trip.

i had not made a reservation, but upon arrival i stumbled upon a great hotel. for 25 euros, i got a single room with a kitchen and a bathroom, with a balcony! i was staying in the old town of the first village, monterosso. scattered with corner stores, focacceria's, wine bars and little cafes, monterosso was right on the beach. there was almost no place i would rather have been.

each of the villages are linked by train, but also by hiking paths. some steep and difficult, others flat and relaxing, the paths offered the most stunning views of the villages. i hiked the 12km in one day, stopping in each village to taste the gelato, the pizza, the wine and to explore the hidden corners of the little idylic italian villages.

the path between the last two villages was called lovers lane, or via dell'amore, and cinque terre was certainly filled with romance. i apologize to some of you in advance, but i am a hopeless romantic, and could not help observing the aura of romance around me. as a solo traveller, people-watching becomes a daily activity. i wonder what language people are thinking in, what they are thinking about, who they are walking beside, and create life stories for them. i witnessed older couples hiking the most difficult trails, yet still holding hands and a young couple who thought they were alone, sneaking kisses along the trail.

despite the aura of romance, or perhaps because of it, i was immersed fully in the quaint, leisurely and contented lifestyle of everyone in cinque terre. one day i will be back, when i can partake in the romance myself.

getting lost in 3D.

to be completely honest, there was not a whole lot to see in nice except the beach. so, along with a friend i met in my hostel, i took a train to monaco to experience the luxury for a day.

there must be more money in monaco than in the whole of france combined! huge yachts filling the port, beautifully sculpted gardens, an enormous casino and extremely expensive drinks. in order to fully appreciate the setting, we decided to simply wander. monte carlo is built on a steep cliff and not only do you have to worry about going left and right, but you also have to figure out whether you are going to go up or down. they need to make 3D maps for monaco with all of their money.

we took a tour of the royal palace and an extensive collection of weapons, sat by the azur coloured ocean, thought about entering the casino, and got a laugh out of the random statues. in canada, there are statues of our founders, political leaders etc., but in monaco, they have the most ridiculous statues. my personal favourite was a sailor who was steering a boat with a mustache as long as his arms.

a wonderful friend once told me that things that happen in europe are automotically more intense, more poignant. i felt that about wandering around monaco. nothing spectacular happened, and i was not awe-struck by any of the sights, but it was the perfect day.

small world.

i have arrived in nice and spent a looong day sunning on the pebble beach. i have to admit that i have ignored the museums and monuments, and decided to make the beach my first priority for two days.

as i have been travelling, i have been struck by how massive the world is. not just people-wise, but the diversity of landscapes and cultures, and the fact that it all exists each day as i live my own life. you begin to realize that in comparison, one life is insignificant in the grand scheme of of the world.

but then, just when i was convinced that the world was too big, and i was feeling really unconnected to home, i had a surprise encounter in the avignon train station. i was sitting waiting for my train to come, and a group of young backpackers walks by, and one of them looked vaguely familiar. we looked at each other for a minute, because it was completely out of context -- but it was a friend from red pine camp! we reminisced for a few moments, took a picture, and then went our seperate ways. it was really refreshing to see someone familiar.

now i am convinced that the world is not so big after all.

on y danse.

bonjour!

i have arrived in france. how lovely it is to be able to communicate once again! the journey from barcelona to france was equivalent to a backpackers express, i do not think there were any other travellers. we took over! in my compartment there were three loud obnoxious guys who pretended to speak catalan to everyone; a little asian girl who dropped her backpack on another girls head when she tried to put it on the rack above (i laughed out loud. oops.); and a girl from canada who dropped her shoe on the tracks and lost it forever. it was an entertaining ride.

here are quick observations from the town i have visited so far, as well as some general thoughts about france. as you can imagine, when you are travelling alone, you have loads of time to think.

montpellier: a cute university town where everyone spends all day every day sitting in cafes. and when the sun goes down, they switch to pubs. i don't think they ever make it to class!

carcasonne: on the recommendation of carolynn, i took a day trip to this unforgetable walled medieval city. from afar, it actually looks like a cinderella castle. it is hard to believe that 120 people still call it home. an amazing, magical city.

avignon: another adorable walled city (i don't know, can you call a city adorable?), complete with an abundance of cafes, museums and nice walks. the famous bridge, not actually called the pont d'avignon, but pont st. benezet, was a slight disappointment, because it only goes halfway across the river! did you know they did not dance on the bridge, they danced under the bridge? oh the lies we have been told.

in general france is gorgeous, and people are unbelievable friendly. within ten minutes of getting off the train, three people stopped to ask if i needed help finding my way. this morning however, while i was drinking my cafe au lait in the sun, i was struck by things that i didn't about france. there are certainly more positive things to say, but these next thoughts are certainly more interesting:

-there is shit everywhere. literally, no one picks up after their dogs and no one picks up after themselves! this morning i actually witnessed a man throw a can in the rhone. what a numpty.

-everyone smokes. unfortunately, this is not really particular to the french, but a europe thing. have they not gotten the message that smoking kills people? maybe it is classy and sexy to sit at cafes with their cafes and their cigarettes, but stop making me inhale the second hand smoke!

-the french assume that everyone in the world should speak french (fair enough). so, eager to practice, i always try to communicate in french. however, i am by no means perfect, and i still struggle with some vocab. the worst is when people make disgusting contorted facial expressions as if to say "huh? what are you saying you crazy foreigner?". i am trying! you do not need to look at me like i am speaking greek!

-it is certainly not the fault of the country, but it is damn windy here. when i was standing on the pont d'avignon, i literally thought i was going to get blown off.

now that would have made a great story.

i'm a mountain.

i climbed a mountain!

well. part of a mountain. maybe the first third. actually, probably the first quarter. before it got steep. ha.

the mountain and backdrop of finestrat is 'puig campana', 1,406 metres high. i set off with the girls to climb to the top, but due to unforeseen circumstances (i had not had a bowel movement in five days!), i was only able to hike for about 45 minutes. regardless, it was incredible. the scenery was picture-perfect.

instead, i took a leisurely walk down the mountain, along the road into town and back to the hostel. it was cloudy, but a perfect day for hiking.

now i am on my way to france. unfortunately, i got foiled, and my train to montpellier was cancelled. so, i am stuck in barcelona. i booked a hostel through hostelworld.com, but when i arrived, it did not exist. it was locked up, and closed forever! mia. so, at ten o'clock at night, on a weekend in barcelona, i had to find other accomodations. just a tad stressful! i treated myself to a nice dinner out and a large glass of red wine. i absolutely love sitting alone at a restaurant and letting your mind wander, the equivalent for me of a night out on the town (well, pretty close!). a recipe for perfection.

if you are reading this hostelworld.com, you suck.

dogs and thunder.

i thought that rain did not exist in spain. apparently it does!

i have made my way along the costa blanca to a little town in the mountains called finestrat. pronounced 'fin strat' or, if you prefer, 'finest rat', as it is in my head! i met up with my kindred spirits, vanessa and andrea, who are avid climbers, hikers and surfers from bc. i have only known them for a few days, but we have the kind of relationship where we feel we have known each other since we were in diapers.

we are staying at a climbers hostel called the orange house (www.theorangehouse.net) just outside of finestrat. we cook our own food, have access to a pool, and even get to use a bbq! the view from the hostel is magnificent: a beautiful mountain overlooking the simple town and a green valley.

last night, i witnessed one of the most beautiful thunder storms that i have seen since i was a kid. the three of us grabbed rain coats and lawn chairs and sat on the terrace with front-seat views to the storm as it creeped across the valley. we were at the highest point in the valley (probably not the smartest thing in retrospect!), the lightning exploding in the sky, taking on shapes that i have never seen. the two dogs on the property, terrified, cuddled up in our room. why is it that dogs are always so afraid of thunder?

the climbers are obviously really unhappy that it is raining, but i am content. i honestly think that the ocean becomes even more beautiful when it is cloudy and raining. on perfect days, the ocean is bright blue, and goes as far as the eye can see, shimmering in the sun. but, on stormy days, the ocean becomes a spectrum of colours from blue to green to navy, with depth and character. i think there is more to gain from staring at it on stormy days.

this is the kind of world i wish i lived in every day. the kind where i can spend an hour staring at the ocean if i want to. where i can read a book without feeling like i have missed out on the day, or only do ONE thing at a time. a world without multitasking DOES exist? i actually smile at children, talk to strangers, and the biggest decision of the day is whether to read or write in my journal before bed. it is too bad that it always seems we have to leave home to find our lives.