Journey

As hard as life may seem at times, I would not change anything if I could. I feel so grateful to have the opportunities that have been presented to me. Life is such a gift that it is a waste to dwell on the fear, the un-happy, and the negative. People are unpredictable and beautiful. They always will be. It is just one of the wonders of being human. 

The universe is such a beautiful and indescribable thing. Even science cannot decipher her secrets. Everything around us has it’s own soul, it’s own breath, and it’s own life force. I can only hope that people stop their busy lives to appreciate and thank the things around us. Thank the trees for the air they give, thank the sun for her warmth, thank the rain for the water, and thank the sky for showing us how expansive the universe is. It is humbling to glance into the clouds or stars and realize how small we are. 

A wonderful friend told me something quite wonderful recently. She said, “Everyone falls apart, and yet everyone finds a better and stronger resolve in themselves if they have an expansive nature.” Sometimes moods, opinions, and ideas can be switched or resolved simply from the help of a kind soul. Hearing things such as that gives me a purpose. I am not sure if she knows that what she said has had such a significant effect on me. I should tell her.

Remembering

I know I must sound like a broken record by now but I will say again: this trip has been anything but easy. I feel so exhausted. Mentally, physically, emotionally. We have seen so many incredible things but we are now so tired. At least we now have a place to relax. I just hope that I can recover from everything quickly. 

Ireland is the exact opposite of London. It is quiet, calm, secluded, and kind. The weather isn’t great at all, it is constantly windy and raining. This doesn’t seem appealing when we have to walk to town. That aside, like I said, Ireland is wonderful. It is gorgeous and the people are gracious. I have yet to meet an unfriendly Irishman. 

I have so many people, things, and places to write about on this trip that it would probably take me a good month to get it all out. I have seen so many colorful and unique things. Europe is so much different than the States. It is neither good nor bad. Just different. 

For example, on the way up to Scotland Egil and I sat side by side on a high speed train. It twisted and turned through cities, countryside, and the oceanside. There I was, peacefully knitting away as Egil dozed off next to me when a strange fellow appeared in front of us. He leaned against the wall of the train, with a cup of coffee in hand. He seemed to just appear in front of us. I had not seen him approach. 

His attire was quite strange within itself. He sported a baby blue skin tight shirt which accentuated his bulging belly. The jeans were no less tight and the seemed to be suffocating his legs. Pointy leather shoes peaked out from the flare of his pants and shone like he had purchased them the day before. Wrapped around one of his pudgy fingers was a silver skull ring. Chains and necklaces fell from his round, thick neck. His hair line was taking over his head and their wasn’t much hair on the back of his skull. I am assuming that he was at least fifty. 

The man had been bothering another young lady who sat across from us. She had buried her face in a book and politely excused herself from the conversation. He still tried to talk to her for a good ten minutes before he took the hint when she wouldn’t answer. I wanted to move to another seat but everything else was taken.

“You from here?” He asked gruffly in an unmistakable Scottish accent.

 I was a bit caught of guard that he began to speak to us, although I had noticed him watching us for quite awhile and already felt a bit uneasy. We mumbled something to the effect of, “No. California.” I thought that would shut him up. It didn’t.

He plunked himself down in the seat across from me. For the next hour, he would not stop talking. At one point I even put on my headphones to drown him out and even that didn’t stop him. Egil kept him a bit more occupied than I did. I had enough when he pulled out his flip and began to film me, asking stupid questions like: Do you model? Are you an actress? 

The man felt the need to explain his entire life story to us. Apparently he was a well known musician (I didn’t buy it) and he traveled to California regularly to see his band (which consisted of his buddy’s sons). On and on he droned about his love affairs, his music, and his adventures. I only paid attention to him when his lip on the lower right hand side began to bleed. Never once did he touch it with his hands. Instead, he would thrust his tongue onto the sore and pull the tiny pool of blood back into his mouth. It reminded me so much of the death-eaters in Harry Potter that I was a little shocked. This action that he continued to preform every few moments disgusted me. I literally felt sick to my stomach. Something about the way that it just kept bleeding made me feel uncomfortable. 

I was so excited when the train finally entered Edinburgh station. He tried to get close enough to me to give me a hug good-bye. I basically ran off of the train. Egil, however, shook his hand. I do not remember the man’s name. 

I have been spending the past few days recovering and looking through old photos. When I see photos from 2007 I always feel so nostalgic. Life back then seemed to always be exciting, bright, and innocent. Sixteen felt so old then yet when I think about it now I didn’t know much at all. Maybe I still don’t. 

I can still vividly feel the emotions I felt then. It’s as though I am standing back in Piedmont, surrounded by all of my friends who are climbing nearby trees or flying down the pavement on their skateboards. Or as though I am at Meg’s house again, eating dinner with her family as though I was their own daughter. I can close my eyes and almost fully recreate scenes from my life then. When I open them, however, the tangible feeling is gone. 

At the same time, although my life back then seemed much easier and happier than it does now, I do not think it was. I endured so many years of constant emotional upheaval for many different reasons. One of them being I wanted so badly to be accepted and loved by someone who wasn’t interested in doing so. Those are memories that I can remember more vividly then others. Probably because one tends to remember the bad before one remembers the good.

So many memories still flood my head from that time period. Emily and I went to Wes’s house for a bonfire. It was a typical summer night in the bay area, warm with a slight twinge of chill from the far off fog. When we arrived, I could feel the tension in the air from him. All the other boys pretended like they didn’t notice. I cannot say I blamed them at all. In fact, I am still surprised to this day that they lived with the constant drama we created. 

A small fire sent orange glowing light onto all that surrounded it. We all sat in chairs and told stories, drinking beer and smoking cigarettes. Brendan (I believe) told Hugh, who was extremely intoxicated, that he had spiders crawling all over his half naked body. Hugh, who was deathly afraid of spiders, proceeded to throw himself into the fire before him in the hopes of killing the imaginary vermin. Amos had to grab his writhing body and pull him from the flames before he severely burned his skin. Everyone around laughed with the taste of alcohol on their breath as Hugh continued to roll in the grass. 

He and I completely ignored each other in the hopes of not creating any scene. I approached him anyway. We immediately began to bicker and fight. Both of us had been drinking, as always, so our judgement was quite impaired. The longer we spoke, the more upset I became. I always asked the same questions and never got an answer. Emily became frustrated and told me that we had to leave. I never wanted to leave the argument. To this day I do not know what kept me so intrigued by him. I would have done anything he asked in order for him to accept me and see me in the way I wished. I know now that I should have let him be. 

I have positive memories as well. In fact, the positive most definitely outweighs the negative. I can still picture Meg and I waking up side by side in our quaint room in Kauai, with the many calls from nearby birds pulling us from our slumber. The sun shined straight into our newly opened eyes and she always commented on how loud the stupid birds were. We would pull on our bathing suits, slip on a pair of shorts, and walk to the main house for breakfast. 

One morning, Meg woke up and exclaimed that she was missing an earplug. Neither of us had woken up during the night, or so we thought, so we ravaged the bed until everything was on the floor. No earplug. We must have searched for at least a half an hour until we finally gave up. She was a bit frustrated as the earplugs were the only way from keeping the birds out of her head. We decided that the earplug was a lost cause. Meg agreed and walked into the bathroom. She emerged a few moments later to tell me that the earplug was in the toilet. We still, to this day, do not know how it got there.

These fond memories are so wonderful that I wish I could go back to that place, if only for a day. At the same time, I feel as though I have almost outgrown them. Even though we are the same people now that we were then, our interests and focuses have changed dramatically. It is a sad but exciting truth. 

Agh!

Always save your work. I just lost a whole hours worth of writing. Oh well!

 We are now living in Ireland and I am falling more and more in love with it every day. I still miss my family more than anything but it is becoming easier now that we have a place of our own. It is still strange not to constantly be traveling. We finally have the chance to relax for the first time in 6 weeks. I will rewrite and post it soon!

xoxo

Scotland

To see all of these different cultures has been such an adventure. Today Stuart took us out to small fishing villages about an hour outside of Edinburgh. I felt as though I could finally breathe for the first time on this trip. Sea air filled my lungs and silence hung around me except for the sounds of the ocean. Old stone walls sat staring out into the bay as though they held all of the stories of the past. As we sat looking out onto the water an old man limped up past us, his old shaggy greyhound not far behind. The greyhound had the same limp as the haggard man. When he passed, I could see the creases on his face. He mumbled a gruff greeting and continued on his way. At least he said hello. No one in any city we have been has ever said hello in passing. I wished I could have asked him where he came from, what he had seen, who he was. Who he used to be. 

Boats were docked in a harbor that are still used to this day. Men continue to rise at five in the morning in order to leave when the tide is high at six. They travel thirty miles out to see in order to catch shellfish of sorts as they did hundreds of years ago. The smell of the fish hangs in the air around the small ships. It looks as though the water isn’t even moving. I have never seen ocean water so calm. The water wasn’t in a hurry to go anywhere. 

Stuart told stories of a man who hikes across miles of sand every morning in order to map out where the quicksand is. His only help is a long stick that he uses to poke the sand. When the man is sure that it is safe to walk there, he sticks a small flag into the dense sand and continues on his way. 

Years ago, twelve Chinese men began their journey to work in the grey early morning dawn. As they walked along the sand, none of them bothered to notice the small flags guiding their way. The farther they walked, the more they realized that the sand seemed to be fairly mushy beneath their feet. Before they could turn back, all twelve men were stuck in quick sand. With no way to get out, the men simply had to wait as their death grew closer. “There are at least twelve skeletons under the sand”, as Stuart said. 

Scotland is stunning. Jagged cliffs rise behind the city buildings. A dormant volcano sits in the distance. Ruins of ancient castles and buildings are scattered everywhere. Everything seems to have a story.

The people here are very tough. They walk with intensity in their step. Even the way they talk is pretty aggressive. Most of them seem slightly unhappy. It’s probably the weather. Despite those opinions I have, the Scots also seem nice. Much nicer than other people we have encountered on this trip.

I find myself still greatly missing home. I miss my family so much. I think of them every single day. I also think of my room, my dog, the meals my mom would make. The light that cascaded through the window in my room. Oh, how do I miss the coast. Everything about it. I miss my old job, my friends, my routines. I miss my car. I just miss California is general. 

On the flip side, this trip is so mind blowing. Everything about it is an opportunity to learn and grow. Every single day is something new. I just have to remember to take one day at a time. One foot in front of the other. It’s that simple. Whenever I think about going home I realize I cannot leave here. Not yet. It’s too amazing.

Home Sick

I am feeling quite home-sick today. I just looked through hundreds of photos that my best friend and I took all through out the year of 2007-2008 and it made being here a bit more difficult. I am very glad I am here, the experience has been amazing so far despite all of the rough patches (AKA 90% of this trip). That aside, I miss her so much. I miss our adventures, laughing until we cry, and going to bed at 9:30 every night because we were that lame. I miss stealing plastic flamingoes from people's yards, jacking orange cones from construction sites, and not shutting the hood on John's suburban so when we started to drive off it flew up and scared us half to death. It's hard knowing that time of complete innocence isn't available anymore.
I cannot wait to see her again. It's so difficult knowing and accepting that the days of simply being a care free teenager is gone as well. The responsibility we have now will only continue to grow with age. I miss all of my close friends and I miss being able to see them every day.
Cambridge is nice but not half as nice as Canterbury. We leave for Edinburgh on Tuesday!
I think we are going to come home in half the time that we thought we would. September is so far away and to be completely honest neither of us can afford to stay. Even the hostels add up due to the exchange rate. So we are just going to live it up while we are here!

What A Day!

Yesterday definitely topped any other day that we have had to encounter in the U.K. so far. We got up at five a.m. and left Canterbury by bus. The bus arrived into Victoria station at around 8:30 and we caught a non-stop train into Gatwick airport. When we got there, I stopped at an ATM before we entered the terminal in order to get cash out in order to pay the woman we were going to stay with in Spain. I stuck my debit card into the machine and nothing happened. I tried to press cancel in order to retrieve my card but it wouldn't work. As I began to panic, I asked the man working in the money exchange booth next to me what I could do. He told me that the card couldn't be retrieved. I called the ATM company and they told me the same thing. When I hung up the phone I began to cry. An older English gentleman came up and said, "Pardon me, miss?". He pulled an unopened package of tissues out of his pocket. When I tried to decline, the look on his face made me change my mind.

I was stuck in an airport with no way to get money. Egil decided to try and use his bank card to get money out of his account. I waited with the luggage and tried to stop my tears as he went over to a teller. He came back empty handed and explained that his card had been declined. At that point, we both realized that we couldn't leave for Spain because neither of us had any sort of funds. We sat in the lobby of the airport for five hours while we waited for our friends to get home from work so we could stay with them for the evening. I fell asleep on the seats for a short while. They were actually more comfortable than the bed we had slept in a couple of days prior to leaving Canterbury.

Suzanne and her family opened up their house yet again for us. I still feel so thankful and grateful that we had the opportunity to meet such an amazing household. We slept on her extremely comfortable futon bed and had an amazing dinner of bangers and mash. When we left today I wanted to leave them something to show them how thankful I was for their hospitality and selflessness but I couldn't think of anything to leave. I will.

When we were at their house last night I tried to book some bus tickets to Cambridge using a back up credit card that I had brought. (Thank God I had!) It was also declined. To top that, Egil went online to check his bank account to find that the teller had charged his card but hadn't given him the money. He was (and still is) now $800 short. Let's just say that yesterday was one of the most exhausting, emotionally draining, and confusing days of my life.

Also, I emailed the woman we were supposed to stay with in Spain and explained the emergency. I apologized for the circumstances. It has been almost two days and I haven't heard a thing. I also tried calling her and no one answered. Very strange.

This morning I worked everything out with my debit card. A new one will arrive on Monday. I am using my credit card until it does. Egil is getting his money back by Tuesday.

We left for Cambridge this afternoon. The bus ride was about two and half hours and Egil got motion sickness. Oh well. Cambridge is twice as big as Canterbury and we have not yet had a chance to explore. (We fell in love with Canterbury and want to go back as soon as possible!). The hotel we are currently staying that is based about ten minutes ( by car) outside of Cambridge. It's stunning. Our hotel room overlooks a creek and green fields. It is so extremely relaxing. We are going to take the next couple of days to simply unwind and take a breather. Just being out of London is a huge relief.

Time for A Change!

This trip has felt like three months in the time span of two weeks. We have done, seen, and learned so much that I feel as though we haven't even had a chance to reflect on anything that has happened. Being in London is so incredibly fast paced. Days go by and I forget what the date is.

Egil and I both woke up feeling sick today. Actually, he was feeling much worse than I was. Sore throat, painful nostrils (weird), and just extreme exhaustion. He kept me up all last night due to his constant tossing and turning. In fact, he's trying to sleep as I write this by sandwiching his face between two pillows. I am not quite sure if it's working.

We leave for Canterbury tomorrow! It will be nice to see another side of the U.K. So far we have only been inside of the city. I have heard that the countryside is stunning. We leave on a bus at 9:30. 

Canterbury will be our home until Thursday. On Thursday we fly to Spain. We will be staying in the southern part of Spain, probably about an hour north of Malaga. Our new home will be in a hostel that is located in a very small village. It is known for it's incredible views, rock-climbing, and hiking. Even we don't speak the language I know we will get by somehow!

We cannot afford to stay in the U.K. Everything is so expensive. It's unbelievable. Also, the lifestyle does not fit my personality at all. I still feel trapped in some ways. Looking out my window all I see are more buildings, more people, more concrete. I have yet to see an animal besides the stray squirrel or bird. Don't get me wrong, London is incredible in many ways. I just need more space and nature around me in order to be happy. 

I had a dream about someone I haven't talked to in about a year and a half last night. He was on a train and the yellow light of the sun was illuminating his face. The rays from the sun caused everything around him to be red and orange. Trees blurred past the window. The look in his eyes was indescribable. They were almost empty with no thoughts. My heart hurt when I looked at him. It still does when I think of his face. I wonder why he is still in my head, as he shouldn't be. Sometimes I want to call him and just say hi. I don't think he would ever answer the phone. I hope that wherever he is, that he's actually happy. He was a good friend.

This trip has put Egil and I through the ringer so far. We are hoping for some sort of break. Although, this has been one incredible adventure. I hope it continues to be that way!