Author name: Michelle

Colombia - more than just coffee
REMOTE YEAR

Colombia – more than just coffee

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After falling in love with Peru, I was sad to leave for Colombia. After all, it’s not on the water and the only thing I knew about the country was they grow coffee and have a reputation for drugs. I reluctantly packed my bags and boarded the plane for the three-hour flight.   After spending two weeks here, I can honestly say I love Medellin!   True, it’s not on the water but it’s surrounded by mountains, full of palm trees and lush green plants, with a river going through the city and a consistent spring-time climate. Plus, the people are so friendly and the food is delicious!   But the final piece that makes me love this city?   They love Christmas as much as I do!   There are extensive light displays in every neighborhood, much bigger than anything I’ve seen at home. Nearly every house and apartment building is decorated, fireworks take place each night and Christmas music proudly plays in stores, offices and streets.   We heard about a holiday parade taking place on Friday night and headed out. We arrived just in time to see a marching band, including flag bearers and gymnasts, performing under thousands of strings of lights. We followed along, clapping and singing and taking photos.   I couldn’t stop looking around – there were families and children enjoying the festivities, food trucks and stalls with Christmas cakes and cookies, street vendors selling toys and whistles, and lights everywhere.   We followed the path and discovered lights hanging from trees, lights in the shape of cupcakes and candy canes and hot air balloons, lights covering the grass and river, lights on the fence and street posts, lights, lights and more lights!   I smiled and laughed and giggled as we strolled along. I couldn’t get enough of the Christmas spirit. People asked me to take photos of them and I asked others to take photos of me.   Why is it everyone is so much more friendly this time of year?   I realized we were making a circle around a lake and in the middle was a big stage and light show set to Christmas music. I stopped to soak it all up – the lights, the music, the night sky, the people surrounding me.   And I started to cry.   There is just something so terribly romantic about the holidays and I longed to be strolling along holding hands with the man I love.   (I haven’t found him yet but he’s out there somewhere…hopefully dreaming about holding hands with me and strolling along under the holiday lights…)   When we decided to head home, we couldn’t find an Uber or taxi! There were too many people, too many vehicles, and roads closed for the parade.   As we stood there waiting, our toes started tapping and we realized all of us were grooving to the music pouring out of a nearby bar. We decided to go for one drink and then try to find a ride home.   We walked over and sat down on the chairs outside. People were standing around, cooking over an open fire or setting off fireworks in the street.   An older gentleman brought over four beers and set them on our table. I tried to explain that I didn’t drink beer and he directed me to a fully stocked cooler inside the front door.   As I went over to see what they had, I realized there was a bedroom across the hall…and a living room…and…wait a minute!   We were in someone’s house! This wasn’t a bar at all!   We had just walked up and sat down at someone’s house and they served us drinks and food – as guests! We laughed at our mistake as they warmly included us in the festivities.   The older gentleman invited each woman to dance and we took our turns dancing and laughing and watching the family celebrate.   We said our goodbyes and hopped into a taxi, marveling at the generosity of strangers and the random adventures that happen when you say “yes”.   One of the other things I love about this time of year is giving back, in whatever way I can. So when we heard about an organization looking for volunteers to work with kids, I jumped at the chance.   We met in the morning and took taxis to another neighborhood, where we then hopped on a bus and headed straight up the mountain.   We arrived and were taken to a small building, which turned out to be their community hall. Children were lined up against a wall and looked up at us with big eyes.   Oh my goodness, I wanted to scoop them all up!   Our goal was to make a traditional holiday dessert, play with the kids and then give each child a present. A few people headed outside to build a stove to make the dessert and I sat down near the kids.   We were in an empty room – no toys, no books, no balls, nothing at all to play with. The children were three years old or younger, some still in diapers and a few still holding their moms’ hands.   A little girl came over and sat near me.   I love children but I wasn’t sure how to communicate with this little girl. My Spanish is basic, and she didn’t know any English. The only thing I could think to do was play “patty cake”. Her eyes lit up as we clapped hands and soon she began singing. She had the sweetest, softest little voice and I encouraged her with smiles and laughter as we clapped our hands together.   Someone found paper and crayons and we started drawing Christmas trees, tracing our hands and making paper airplanes.   When I got to present her with a gift, her brown eyes got even bigger and she

Friends Peru Remote Year
REMOTE YEAR

Forging friendships at Machu Picchu

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When I saw my itinerary included Peru in month 9, I began planning my trip to Machu Picchu. I didn’t realize all the ways you could arrive there – everything from one, two, and four-day hikes, the classic Inca Trail, the short Inca Trail, the Salkantay/Inca Trail combo and more.   As I read about the effects of higher altitudes and was honest about my current level of fitness, I decided the best route for me was to take a train, then a bus, then explore the actual ruins.   Five girlfriends and I boarded a plane in Lima and took the 1 hour 15 minute flight to Cusco.   Although I typically don’t take medicine unless absolutely necessary, I gave in to my friends concern and took an altitude sickness pill before landing. (Cusco’s elevation is 3,400 m or 11,200 ft.)   We checked into our hotel and headed off to find lunch. As we walked along, we noticed we were all short of breath and our energy was low.   We stopped at a nearby restaurant to give ourselves time to acclimatize.   Part way through our meal, one of our friends pushed her plate back and said she wasn’t feeling well. All the color drained from her face and we barely caught her as she passed out.   Our waiter came over quickly and began fanning her, another staff person brought some rubbing alcohol and slowly our friend came to. But then just as quickly, her color faded again but this time her lips turned blue and she started convulsing.   I’ve never been so terrified in my life.   We got her on the floor, one person called International SOS to find us a hospital, someone else called a taxi, someone paid our bill and I grabbed all her belongings. We got her in the cab, two friends jumped in with her and they sped off.   Adrienne and I stood on the sidewalk shaking like little leaves.   What just happened?          Was that altitude sickness?                      Could it happen to us at any moment?   We showed each other where we kept our medical insurance cards, confirmed we both had the SOS app on our phones and made a plan in case one of us passed out.   Then we slowly walked to the textile museum to check out the ancient art of weaving, and hopefully calm ourselves down.   Eight hours later, the hospital released our friend and gave her permission to carry on to Aguas Caliente, which is a lower altitude. (She had high-altitude cerebral edema – which can be fatal if not immediately treated!)   Exhausted and relived, we boarded the train for our 4.5 hour journey to Aguas Caliente (aka Machu Picchu). The train ride was stunning, with a full glass roof so we could see all the mountains, rivers, valleys and towns.   Too excited to sleep in, we were standing in line at 5am waiting to be whisked up the mountain to see our first glimpse of Machu Picchu.   The bus ride may seem like the easy choice compared to the steep climb up, but it had its own element of danger.   The drivers roared up the mountain like race car drivers, fish-tailing the bus around each switch-back, and leaving us hanging on to the seats for dear life. The dirt road is only wide enough for one bus in most spots, although we somehow squeezed by when an approaching bus came barreling downhill.   With no guard rails and a long way down, I kept my eyes on the horizon and the sunshine hitting the peaks of the mountains.   20 minutes later, we got off the bus and joined the line to enter the main gates.   Our guide led us along the path and made a quick left – up a series of stone steps, climbing higher and higher. Some stairs were a small step up, while others were a big step up and required a helping hand from friends.   Finally, we were at the top. I walked around the corner and there it was – the Machu Picchu you see in all the photos. Only more beautiful in person.   The sun was shining, the sky was blue and all of Machu Picchu laid out before me in lush greens and smooth sand-colored rocks. It was breath-taking.   I stood there and stared. I breathed in the fresh mountain air and marveled at the series of events that led me to be standing in this very place.   The dreams you have, the planning you do, and then the moment it all comes together. It’s magical.   Of course we took hundreds of photos – photos of Machu Picchu, photos of just me, photos of our group.   We carried on for three hours, our guide explaining the history, the culture, the purposes for each section of the citadel, the perfect placement of windows and rocks to line up with the sun and stars. It was fascinating.   Then our group divided, half deciding to climb Machu Picchu Mountain (4 hours of gruelling stone stairs) and the other half continuing to explore Machu Picchu. (Guess which group I chose? Yup, no more stairs for me!)   We wandered through the ruins looking for the perfect spot to do a meditation together. We found a room we hadn’t explored before, sat down on rocks that seemed meant for the purpose and closed our eyes.   Warmed by the sun, lulled by a gentle breeze, I soaked up every sensation and felt my heart full of love and gratitude – for the journey, for the women I shared it with, for this beautiful place.   The next day Amy and Adrienne headed back to hike Huayna Picchu Mountain and the other girls stayed in town. I decided to head back

sand dunes in peru
REMOTE YEAR

Falling in love in Lima

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I started off my year-long journey with one goal – to fall in love. Maybe to fall in love with a person or maybe to fall in love with a place, an activity, a lifestyle. I wasn’t sure what it would look like but I was open to the idea of love.   Every month my travel mates ask me if I’ve fallen in love and sadly I say, “not yet, but I’ve found lots of things I really like!”   But arriving in Lima, feeling the tropical air, smelling the salty ocean, seeing the pink and purple and red sunsets, I can officially say I’m in love!   The last few months I’ve slept in and my energy felt low but now, each morning I bound out of bed at 6am, throw on my shoes and head to the beach! I simply can’t wait to get near the water, to hear the waves rushing in, to gaze out at the horizon and dream big dreams.   When you’re too excited to sleep, when you wake up eager for each new day, when you can’t stop smiling – you’re in love!   And if I needed further proof, my apartment is a five-minute walk from Parque del Amor – the Park of Love!   I spend time every day strolling the boardwalk along the ocean, watching the sunset and taking pictures of palm trees. If I didn’t know better, I’d think we were in Maui.   I was still exploring my new neighborhood when our group posted an event happening on Saturday – a visit to the sand dunes and Huacachina oasis, a four-hour drive south of Lima.   Something felt familiar as I read the description and I remembered something I’d heard years ago.   The famous Nazca Lines are four hours south of Lima!   With a bit of research, I confirmed my thoughts and decided to combine both sights in one trip.   We booked a tour that included a private driver from Lima to Ica, a 70-minute flight, lunch, one-hour sand dune buggy tour and return to Lima. It was going to be a long day but so much fun.   As we headed outside Lima and along the southern coast, the landscape quickly changed from lush, green parks to endless miles of sand and rocks. Our driver told us that it never rains here so anything we saw that was green has been watered by hand!   We pulled up to a tiny airport and headed through the gate, where we saw even smaller airplanes. Our plane held 12 people, six rows with one seat on each side. We chatted with the other passengers and nervously laughed at the size of the plane we were about to board.   The co-pilot handed us a map, explaining the route we were going to fly and the images we would see. 13 images total including the famous astronaut, spider, hummingbird and more.   We climbed in and set off for the 70-minute flight. It was blue sky and sunshine, which gave us stunning views over the valley.   As we approached the Nazca Valley, the co-pilot reminded us that the plane would bank left first, so people on the left side of the plane could see the image, then the plane would bank right, so the right side could see.   Sounded good, everyone gets a view, right?!   I love flying and wasn’t nervous at all, until the plane banked hard left and my stomach flipped. We banked right and I knew I was in trouble. I was so nauseous I couldn’t even look out the window to see the image he was describing.   Oh no, that was only one image?! How many are there? 13? Ackk, I’m not going to make it!   I stared out the window, took some deep breaths and willed myself to be okay. The feeling subsided but I knew I was on the edge.   I looked down, took photos, and reminded myself how much I had wanted to see these images. I chose this adventure!   When we finally saw the last image and the captain announced we were heading back to the airport, I started to relax.   Back on the ground, we piled out of the plane and breathed a sigh of relief. Turns out I wasn’t the only one on the verge of being sick!   Our driver was waiting and whisked us away to lunch. We arrived at Huacachina Oasis and sat on a veranda overlooking the small lake. Our fellow passengers where there as well and we chatted about the flight, where we were from and upcoming travels.   Then we were climbing into dune buggies and heading out to explore 55 kms of sand dunes.   I’ve never been in a sand dune buggy and I imagined we’d be flying along but I didn’t realize how fast we’d really go…or that it would feel like you’re about to fall off the side of a mountain!   I was sitting in the front and had the full view of roaring to the top of a dune, only to fly over the top and roar all the way down. My screams only made the driver go faster!   I quickly learned a valuable lesson – keep your mouth shut or else you’ll be eating sand!   Sand was going everywhere – in my hair, in my clothes, and in my mouth. I couldn’t stop laughing – it was just so much fun!   We stopped for photos, admired the view and marveled that we were still in Peru. It was sand as far as you could see. It felt like we were in the Sahara Desert.   All too soon our adventure was over and we were back in the car heading to Lima. It had been a fun day and I was so happy we got to explore this amazing country.  

horseback riding in Argentina
Life, REMOTE YEAR

Exploring new ways to live

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Spending one month in twelve cities is a great way to try on different lifestyles. You get a better sense if you’re a city person or a small town person, if you like to be on the water or surrounded by nature, if you value space or amenities.   Wrapping up my time in Argentina, I had the chance to observe two different lifestyles – one in the wide open foothills of the Sierra Mountains and the other tucked away along a river with 4×4 access only.   We had a track event that involved a two hour bus ride and a full day of horseback riding so it was the perfect fit to explore outside the city and spend time with horses.   When we arrived at the ranch, the horses were already saddled up outside. It was the skinniest bunch of horses I’d ever seen!   The gauchos matched us up and I trusted I’d have the perfect horse for me but when he led over a tall white horse, I hesitated.   I’ve never trusted white horses and find them high-spirited. But I hopped on and had a little chat with my horse. I talked about the great day we were going to have together and how excited I was to see his home.   We started off as a group but slowly found myself at the back of the pack.   As we walked by a farm, a dog ran out and staring barking furiously at us. My horse stopped. He was frozen (this was not good – a trail horse afraid of a dog?)   The other horses continued on and my horse got nervous. He threw his head and whinnied but refused to move.   I calmly told him it was okay and urged him along – but no luck. A few minutes later, a couple horses came up behind us and we joined them (maybe my horse just didn’t want to be alone?)   As we continued along, my horse veered into the bushes, causing me to duck under branches, and scratch my arm on the prickles.   Then we passed through a gate and he moved over at the last second, pinning my leg against the fence post!   Hmmm…what’s going on? I was getting the feeling he didn’t want to hang out with me.   Eventually we caught up to the rest of the group and got back in line…until some of the other horses decided they wanted to gallop.   I held my horse back, preferring to walk, but he had other ideas.   He started throwing his head and bucking, determined to get me off his back and go for a run!   I managed to stay on, as the gaucho came galloping over to help me. Still my horse wouldn’t calm down and continued to jump and twist.   Then I saw him eye up the fence and knew we were in trouble. If he decided to jump, one of us was going to get seriously hurt.   I had tried to bond with this horse, I had talked nicely but we just weren’t meant to be.   I jumped off and decided I would rather walk than continue to ride this crazy horse.   The gaucho explained it was a long way to go so I would have to ride something. Thankfully my friend Brandon offered to switch horses.   I gladly handed over the reins and mounted his quiet horse.   The rest of the ride was smooth as my new horse calmly walked along, carefully choosing his footing as we went through streams and down rocky trails.   More than once I glanced around and saw Brandon off the trail and trying to get the crazy white horse back in line.   After a 2.5 hours ride, we stopped for lunch and then had the option to ride back in the blazing sun or take the van.   2.5 hours was enough for me.   Half the group stayed to nap under the trees and the other half got back on the horses for the return ride.   I noticed the gaucho hopped on the crazy white horse, determined to keep him in line on the way home.   Even though I didn’t ride all day and I had to switch horses, I still enjoyed seeing the lifestyle of an Argentinian gaucho. They are brave and hardy – charging down hills and over rocks without a second thought. The wide-open space and fresh air appealed to me, but I know I need to be near water to feel happiest.   The next day, we headed two hours in a different direction to visit an eco-village called Umepay.   It was a gravel/dirt road so bumpy even our driver was concerned about where we were going. We stopped every oncoming vehicle and asked if we were on the right road.   As we approached several gates, I jumped out to open and close the gate behind our van (something any kid raised on a farm instinctively knows to do), and eventually we pulled into a quiet oasis.   We were warmly greeted by two women and a cute little boy named Tandoori.   We followed them to benches around a campfire pit, under the shade of a tree and listened to the story of how they created Umepay.   A group of 11 friends were fed up with housing costs and the rat race of working just to pay the bills.   They decided to sell everything, pool their money and buy a piece of land. They agreed to only develop 30 per cent of the land, leaving the remaining 70 per cent to nature.   Slowly they built homes and eventually a community hall for workshops and retreats. They shared sustainable values and worked together to create a lifestyle they loved.   It’s a peaceful place with hammocks, a meditation labyrinth, and daily yoga classes on the

rhythm changing seasons
Life, REMOTE YEAR

Finding rhythm when everything around you changes

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I was born and raised in British Columbia, and other than a brief stint in Alberta, I’ve always lived in B.C. One of the things I love about the West Coast is experiencing all four seasons.   I know that after the heat of an Okanagan summer, we move into the cool crispness of fall. I know the snow will come but it won’t last long and we’ll shift into the early signs of spring.   I’ve experienced this cycle over and over and my body relaxes with the certainty of this knowledge.   Living in one province also means you start to know the rhythms of nature during each season.   I know when the garter snakes arrive on the Mission Creek Greenway (and don’t walk there then!); I know what time the sun blazes down on Paul’s Tomb and makes the trail too hot to hike; I know you can usually find blue sky on the mountains, even when it’s foggy in town.   We take these natural cycles for granted. You don’t even know they are happening – until they change and throw everything out of alignment!   I left Kelowna in March, the start of spring, so it felt normal for me to land in Croatia when they were starting spring as well. I flowed along throughout Europe as we moved from spring into summer and gladly embraced the heat of Spain in August.   After a month of 40 degree days, my body was ready for the gentle ease into fall. After all, this was the cycle I’ve experienced by whole life, this was all I knew.   But our itinerary was to leave Europe and head to South America in September.   South America – that’s warm, right?   Oh no – South America is just finishing winter and moving into spring in September!   The cold weather was a shock to my system. There was no easing into a cool autumn – we were thrown back in time to do spring all over again.   Back to wearing layers, as the weather changes every hour. Back to dark nights, as the sun sets earlier. Back to trees with no leaves.   Walking to the post office early one morning (to mail my monthly postcards, which is always an adventure in itself), I noticed kids heading to school and adults off to work.   I saw a woman wearing a black cardigan with her dress pants and I got emotional – I was suddenly back home, getting dressed for work and longing for winter to be over.   I remember the feeling well – you’re so ready for spring, you pack away coats and pull out dresses, willing spring to arrive.   There’s still a chill in the air but you refuse to wear a coat so the little cardigan gets worn every morning (often left at the office as the day warms up).   It’s funny – it’s like seeing that cardigan was a signal to my body that it was spring.   Things started to click into place and I let go of longing for fall and it’s changing leaves and pumpkin spice. I slowly started to embrace the idea of spring after summer, of buds appearing on trees, of flowers blooming.   Although I miss fall (my favourite season), and I know it will be strange to skip winter (I won’t miss driving in snow), it’s a fun, new experience to have two springs and two summers in one year.   I don’t know if there is a snake season (I hope not!), I don’t know when the sun gets too hot, I don’t know the signs of a coming storm.   But I do know I’m having an adventure and my brain and body are working overtime to adapt.   Everything is unexpected, everything is new, everything is unfamiliar.   And I find the best thing to do is let go, be curious and find your own rhythm as it unfolds.

Argentina adventure
REMOTE YEAR

Argentinian adventures continue

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We arrived in Córdoba after a nine-hour bus ride through the Argentinian countryside. The highway from Buenos Aries reminded me of driving in Saskatchewan – long, straight, flat, see-for-miles.   I instantly liked the city. Even though it’s a big city (second largest in Argentina), it has a small city feel. It’s easy to walk around, the people are friendly, you feel safe.   We did a walking tour the next morning and discovered the city is quiet on Sundays, with most shops closed. But we explored churches whose beauty reminded me of Europe (Córdoba, Argentina is named after the Córdoba in Spain and you can see the European influence).   There were stray dogs everywhere and one cute black dog followed me the entire walking tour – sitting or lying at my feet when we stopped for photos and walking beside me down the streets. I took it as a good sign that I would love this city!   Last month I wanted to visit Iguazu Falls but the flights were expensive, and I was so sick that it didn’t happen. But my friend Jesus (from Mexico, not a religious reference!) found a website with cheap flights and a few days later we were on our way!   A wall of humidity hit us as we walked out of the airport and I felt my hair getting bigger and bigger. We were definitely in a rain forest and now it felt like vacation!   Our hotel was a former Jesuit Mission at the end of a dirt road and overlooked the river dividing Argentina and Brazil.   As it was Adrienne’s birthday, Jesus had secretly arranged champagne to be waiting in our room. It definitely makes it easier to plan a surprise when your travel mates don’t speak fluent Spanish!   We were excited to explore the next morning, but Adrienne had to work so Jesus and I headed out to the National Park on our own.   Jesus had heard about an extreme boat option and quickly signed up. After my white-water rafting experience in Bulgaria, I easily said “no, thanks” and we arranged to meet in a couple hours.   Armed with my map and a bottle of water, I headed off into the park to explore alone.   I quietly strolled along at my own pace, taking photos and enjoying the warm breeze. Every so often I heard a rustling in the leaves and my steps quickened!   I saw black monkeys (which I stayed away from after warnings about getting bit), coatis (which look a bit like raccoons except with long noses, and equally as mischievous), large iguanas (who moved much quicker than you’d think), and hundreds of butterflies.   As I walked along, I caught glimpses of the main waterfalls, smaller waterfalls and rivers. I saw a speedboat cruising along and heard people screaming.   Yup, I had made the right decision to skip the boat ride!   I met Jesus at our agreed spot and he was soaking wet with a huge grin. We were both happy and swapped stories about the great day we had as we headed back to the hotel for dinner.   We walked down to the restaurant and sat outside in lounge chairs to take in one of the most beautiful sunsets I have ever seen. The sky slowly turned pink, then red and orange, and finally a deep purple as the sun set lower. We sat there speechless, except for me saying “wow!”, “can you believe it?”, “stunning!” – yes, I’m my mother’s daughter!   The next day the three of us headed back to the National Park. There were several trails we hadn’t explored so I thought we’d start with those…but Adrienne had other ideas. She really wanted to do the boat trip.   I mistakenly thought I could send her off with Jesus but she gave me her best puppy dog look saying; “All I really want for my birthday is for you to come with me!”   Ackk! Not fair! How could I refuse a birthday wish?   I reluctantly agreed and we headed off towards the river. I had to admit the views were amazing as we walked down the trail. The waterfalls are three times as wide as Niagara Falls and surrounded by lush rain forest. Absolutely stunning.   Arriving at the boat launch, they handed us a waterproof bag for our belongings, strapped on a life jacket and helped us in the boat. I looked at Adrienne with what I’m sure was terror in my eyes but she was so excited and I tried to focus on that.   We sped off down the river, wind whipping through our hair and I thought – I can do this, I like the water, this will be great.   But as we turned towards the rushing waterfalls, my heart started racing. I was committed, there was no escape. I grabbed onto Adrienne, closed my eyes and remember hearing her shrieks of laughter as waves of water washed over us.   “Again, again!” she screamed, and the driver turned the boat around and took us through again. Cold water rushed down on us, taking my breath away and completely soaking us. “More, more!”   Ackk! Really?!   With the initial shock over, I relaxed a bit and opened my eyes for the third time through.   I’ve heard that when we’re frightened, our senses become heightened. The main thing I’ll always remember is the sound of Adrienne’s laughter. She had loved the adventure and isn’t that the best birthday gift a friend could give?   The rest of the boat ride was calmer as we zipped along the river to a second boat launch and climbed out – wet, tired but smiling.  I had done it and it wasn’t so bad!   We met up with Jesus to join a tour over to the Brazil side of the park. Sadly, we got stopped

uruguay
Life, REMOTE YEAR

Counting countries and letting go

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Several people I’m traveling with this year have a goal of visiting 30 countries before they turn 30. I was a late bloomer and didn’t start travelling until I was 30 so that goal wasn’t an option for me. But it got me thinking – how many countries have I visited since I turned 30?   As I reviewed the list – from Australia to Cambodia to Bali to Norway – I realized I was sitting at 29 countries.  So close to 30!   Where should I go next?   Looking at the map, I was only an hour ferry ride away from Uruguay. That’s it – Uruguay would be my 30th country!   It was Thursday and no one was free to join me so I hopped in an Uber and headed down to the ferry terminal alone.   What should have been a ten minute drive turned into 45 minutes as we hit rush hour traffic. I was getting nervous that I’d miss my ferry.   As I checked the time again, I realized I was worrying about nothing. If I missed the ferry, then it wasn’t meant to be!   I believe things happen for a reason and in that moment, I decided to focus on how I wanted my day to go instead of being anxious about things beyond my control.   I closed my eyes, took a couple deep breaths and thought about how I wanted to feel.   I wanted a relaxing day, to stroll along at a leisurely pace, to stop and enjoy anything that caught my attention, to meet kind and trust-worthy people, to be safe and healthy, and to appreciate the beauty of a new country.   With the shift in my perspective, we soon arrived at the ferry terminal and I walked inside to get my ticket.   There was no one in line.   As I went upstairs to go through customs, again, there was no one in line.   I smiled at how quickly my surroundings had changed from chaos to peace.   As I left the customs area, I saw two women waiting for their passports, chatting about their plans for Uruguay. They saw me and smiled – “you speak English, right?” “Yes,” I replied. We had a brief conversation and I wished them a pleasant trip.   I sat on the ferry, looking over the water and memories of so many other solo trips flooded my mind. I decided to stretch my legs, walked around the corner and heard a friendly “hello again!” It was the mother-daughter duo I had seen in the customs area!   They invited me to sit with them so I sat down and we swapped travel stories.   Karen and Elizabeth were from Washington, DC and had lived and traveled all over the world, spending time in Africa, Australia, France and Germany to name a few. I instantly liked them – their casual nature, their positive attitude and the fun dynamic between moms and daughters, especially when travelling.   Our conversation continued as we got off the ferry and it went unsaid that we would explore the city together.   We grabbed maps from the tourist office and headed out on foot. We laughed and joked and stopped for photos, admiring the ocean views, the tall palm trees and the brightly colored houses.   We had so much fun!   Karen wanted to peek in every shop, try things on and look for gifts. Elizabeth encouraged her mother to move along and I laughed as I say the same things to my mom.   We posed for photos, laughing at how I was going to show up in the family photos when they looked back years from now.   Deciding we should stop for lunch, we found a cute café, sat outside and ordered a bottle of wine – why not?!   I learned about their careers, their family life, their beloved dog who had just passed, their future plans. The time flew by and I felt like we’d been lifelong friends.   We walked the cobblestone streets, climbed the lighthouse, ate ice cream, strolled through the church and museum, took numerous photos, bought souvenirs and thoroughly enjoyed the quiet town of Colonia.   Walking back to the ferry docks, I smiled at the amazing day we had. It was what I had envisioned…and more!   We exchanged contact information, said goodbye and had a group hug. It had been a wonderful day and I believe they enjoyed my company as much as I had enjoyed theirs.   Not only did I reach 30 countries visited since I turned 30, but I made two amazing friends and I know our paths will cross again one day.   That’s the beauty of traveling, of setting your intentions, of being open to how the day unfolds – sometimes you get even more than you asked for!     P.S. This also happens to be my 30th blog post – how cool is that?! Thanks for your support! xo                            

REMOTE YEAR

Galloping to the end in Buenos Aires

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With one week left in Buenos Aires, and finally over my cold, I decided to do all the touristy things I could and maybe find something I liked about the city so we could part on good terms.   I love to read and strolling through a used bookstore on a Sunday afternoon is one of my favourite things to do. When I heard about an old theatre that had been turned into a bookstore, I knew it was the place to start.   El Ateneo Grand Splendid is almost 100 years old and many of the original theatre details remain including ornate carvings, muraled ceiling, and heavy, red curtains. Even the box seats have been turned into reading nooks and the stage is a café.   It’s an adorable space than encourages you to linger, admiring both the books and the ambiance. No wonder it’s been named one of the most beautiful bookstores in the world.   My spirits lifted, despite the heavy rainfall and soaking wet shoes, we pushed on for more experiences to love.   Argentina is known for it’s Malbec and I have a soft spot for cheese so a wine tasting and cheese pairing event sounded perfect.   We spent the evening sipping various types of local wine, trying our best to describe the scents and flavours we were experiencing. We then moved on to cheeses, nibbling and savouring the unique textures.   Finally, we had to determine which cheese went best with which wine, but we didn’t have any left! Our host laughed and generously brought more bottles and cheese boards.   We walked home, arm and arm, smiling at our silliness and recharged after an evening spent with friends.   Next, I decided to better understand the history of Argentina. I had to admit most of my knowledge was likely from the movie Evita (yes, based on a true story but how much was truth and how much was movie-making?)   I went to a tiny café called Perón Perón, a restaurant dedicated to former president General Juan Domingo Perón and his wife Eva. Surrounded by memorabilia, I listened to a passionate Peronist tell his story of the political party, the people, the successes and challenges overcome, and the current state of the country. Although I’m not a political person, I appreciated hearing the history and details first-hand.   The only thing left on my list was to see a polo game. Not only do I love horses, but I heard the polo players were easy on the eyes too!   My friend Adrienne had an even better suggestion – let’s go play polo!   We booked a full day experience which included being picked up at our apartment by Sebastian, the veterinarian who also played polo. On the hour-long drive, he answered all our questions about Argentina, gauchos, breeding polo ponies and even why drivers constantly honk their horns (to which he shrugged – “welcome to Argentina!”)   We turned off the highway and down a long dirt road. My body relaxed as I gazed at the rolling fields, the quiet country roads, the pastures with horses. We pulled into a driveway, greeted by three adorable dogs.   I had found my home.   Sebastian led us over to the horses, where we first watched a friendly game of polo between professional players. The game is fast, with horses galloping from one end to the other, quickly turning direction in pursuit of the ball.   The riders hold two sets of reins in their left hand, the mallet in their right and only use their legs to stay on the horses at break-neck speed. I gulped as I realized we were going to be attempting this soon.   In between each chukka (period), we learned about the rules of polo and practiced swinging the mallet and hitting balls on the grass.   There’s a definite art and skill required. Holding the mallet correctly, swinging with precision and strength, avoiding hitting yourself or others was tricky enough on the ground – how were we going to manage it on horseback?!   The game finished and we met the players (yay!), took pictures with the horses (and players), and learned about the equipment before heading back to the main house for lunch.   The family welcomed us with a full asado – several cuts of grilled beef, each serving more flavourful and tender than the last. Plus salads, grilled vegetables, fresh baked bread and unlimited local wine. The Argentinians are gracious and generous hosts.   Other people had joined our polo adventure and I was pleased to meet two Canadians!   Originally from Thunder Bay, Ontario, Rick and Jake were childhood friends travelling through Argentina. (Rick had been working on a project in Bolivia and Jake joined him for vacation.)   It’s hard to describe the small joy it brings to find your countrymen when you’ve been travelling for so long.   Our stomachs full and our courage bolstered, we grabbed our helmets and mallets, put on team jerseys and leg protectors and headed out to try our own game of polo.   There was nervous laughter as we mounted, trying to balance the mallet and hang on at the same time – and the horses weren’t even moving yet!   We started slowly…even slower than a walk, as our horses decided it was a great time to visit friends and stand around in the sunshine.   With a lot of coaxing, and some prodding from the players, the horses started moving and we began to test our abilities to steer our horse, follow the ball, remember the rules and swing without falling off. Needless to say, it was a gong show!   We completely forgot the rule of following the line of ball and had our horses jammed up like a group of kindergarten students playing soccer – everyone chasing after the ball in a big group!   We had no idea

REMOTE YEAR

Buenos Aires and me – not a match

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My first experience of Buenos Aires was in January 2011 when I was travelling to the Antarctic, and it did not go well. (If you ever get a chance to visit Antarctica – go! It’s my absolute favourite trip I’ve done!)   Buenos Aires is a huge city and as a seasoned traveller, I confidently declined my boyfriend’s offer to hire a private driver. I had travelled across Australia and New Zealand, backpacked through Asia and explored Europe – I could certainly handle Buenos Aires on my own.   Wrong.   Let’s just say my trip ended with me jumping out of a moving taxi, with a cut across my face and pretty sure I had just avoided a kidnapping attempt.   So when I saw Buenos Aires on my Remote Year itinerary, I was less than thrilled. But I believe in second chances and decided to approach the city with an open mind.   Buenos Aires had other plans for me.   As soon as I arrived, I was hit with the worst cold I’ve ever had in my life. Things progressed so bad that I ended up at the hospital and discovered the cold had moved into my sinuses and then into my ear drums. Both ears became so infected I couldn’t hear.   I spent the next two weeks cooped up in my apartment, only hearing the sound of my heartbeat and breath.   I’ve never had an ear infection as an adult and have huge empathy for people who suffer from this regularly. It is completely disorienting.   It’s like you’re living in an alternate reality, a bubble all your own. You can see water running as you draw a bath but you can’t hear it. The sound in your head when you brush your teeth is like a snow plow clearing cobblestone streets. You forget you turned the kettle on for tea because you can’t hear it boil. You stand in a crowded room and feel isolated.   I watched the world through my window and wondered what lesson I needed to learn. I’m a big believer in things happening for a reason and sometimes our body gives us a time out when we haven’t been listening to its whispers.   What was my body trying to tell me?   Did I need to slow down and take better care of myself? Did I need to look inside for the answers to my questions about “what’s next”? Had I forgotten why I was on the journey?   Or maybe it was for protection. Maybe my body remembered what happened last time I was here and decided I needed to be kept safely indoors.   There are plenty of stories to support this idea. One colleague had her laptop stolen while sitting at a café, another girl told us of getting her cellphone stolen out of her hand while she was in a vehicle.   And just the other day, as I walked out my front door, I saw a vehicle stopped in the street with its back windows smashed and surrounded by police cars.   We asked what happened and were told the driver had just been to the bank. He put his bag in the back seat of his car and drove off. Moments later, two motorcycles pulled up beside him, smashed the windows and grabbed the bag – all while the vehicle was moving! How is that possible?!   There is a very different vibe here than any other city I’ve visited. There is tension in the air. There are long line-ups at bank machines, which often run out of cash. There is garbage in the streets and constant sirens. There is a feeling of mistrust and warnings to not walk alone after dark.   Some of my colleagues love Buenos Aires – they love the large steaks available in nearly every restaurant, they love the street art found all over the city, they love practicing their Spanish with locals, and they love the hustle and noise of a large city.   But Buenos Aires is not for me. I knew it the first time I visited and confirmed it this month.   We have just over a week left here and I’ll go see some of the sights my friends love – and then happily say goodbye.   I usually love exploring new places and finding new things to fall in love with…but sometimes, it’s just not a match. Have you ever visited a place where you felt didn’t belong?

Life, REMOTE YEAR

Half way through Remote Year – what’s next?

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When I first joined Remote Year, the idea of spending one month in 12 cities around the world with 50 other professionals seemed daunting and exciting. Stepping out of your life – leaving friends and family, your home, and for me, my job – seemed like a huge leap of faith. And I love taking leaps of faith, especially ones that involve travel!   Month one flew by as we got to know each other and adjusted to our new lifestyle of working and living remotely. Months two and three were a blur, as we explored new countries and booked side trips. Month four was a reality check for many of us, and a chance to rest and recharge. Month five was a busy work month for me and then month six was here and it suddenly hit us that it was our last month in Europe!   I feel like I just started this journey but in fact, we’ve wrapped up month six with means I’m closer to the end than the beginning.   I’m feeling a sense of urgency. I had so many goals for this year away and I’m not on track to complete most of them – some I haven’t even started!   Perhaps it was too ambitious to launch a communications consulting company, develop a brand, build a website, write a weekly blog, research road safety issues around the world, be open to new cultures and new ways of thinking about life and work, be curious and adventurous, meditate daily, do regular yoga, learn a new language, …..   Okay, writing out this long list makes me realize how unrealistic it was!   The only goal that really matters to me now is being present for every moment of this adventure.   There have been high, happy moments (exploring the city walls of Dubrovnik, seeing the sunrise from a mountain in Bulgaria); there have been lows (wondering where the next client or pay cheque would come from); there’s uncertainty and doubt (Do I belong here? Can I really do this?); and kindness from unexpected places (invites to dinner, an arm offered walking down stairs, a hug on a tough day).   My emotions have ranged from one extreme to another. And I think that’s how we know we are alive. We are experiencing life – every single moment of it.   It’s not all happy and fun and games, (although I’m sure it looks that way to people back home!) but it’s real and it’s raw. We are learning things about ourselves and others that might be surprising.   People think I’m always happy, (which is mostly true) but those closest to me know when I haven’t had a good night’s sleep, when I need a snack, or when I simply need to sit down for a break.   It’s these insights we develop as we spend time with people we care about that makes life richer, fuller.   I’ve always been independent and have been single for awhile now so I’m not used to anyone taking care of me. It still feels strange but I’m learning to let go, to allow others into my private life, to ask for help or a hug or some chocolate.   The great thing about traveling with 50 new friends is that there’s always someone up when you’re down, caring when you’re homesick, listening when you need to talk, ready for an adventure or happy to stay in pjs to watch a movie.   And now the big question that’s started to creep into conversations is – what’s next? What do we do after Remote Year ends?   Will people return to their former lives/homes/jobs and carry on, remembering RY as that year they went traveling? Will people continue the digital nomad lifestyle, and keep traveling? Will people go back to the cities they fell in love with and start a new life?   For me, I don’t know.   Of course, I miss my family and friends and I can’t wait to go home and see everyone.   And yes, I miss my home and King-size bed with one solid mattress where I don’t fall in between, with sheets that fit, lots of pillows and a fluffy duvet.   But I’ve also come to love the freedom of waking up without an alarm clock, of choosing how to spend my days, of exploring new places filled with history.   I don’t know what life will look like in March 2018 but I do know this:   ~ There is more than one way to live a happy, successful, passionate life ~ Dreams, all dreams, are worth pursuing ~ Say “yes” to fun – whatever that means to YOU   We have six months left on this adventure and I intend to: experience every moment, continue to develop new friendships, be open and curious about ways to live a happy life, soak up nature and see the beauty all around me, wake up each morning grateful for a new day, and spread kindness and compassion everywhere I go.     I’m in South America for the next six months and would love to hear your tips, suggestions or questions!      

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