Life

I grew up on a farm in Northern B.C. and although I’ve lived in cities as an adult, there’s always been a part of me that longs for wide-open spaces, rolling wheat fields, and expansive night skies filled with stars. My Remote Year journey so far has taken us to large cities throughout Europe and I’ve realized the places I love most are always just outside the city.  Belgrade, Serbia is no different.   Belgrade is the capital of Serbia and my home for month five. It’s a very walkable city, mostly flat with actual paved sidewalks! (No slippery, ankle-twisting cobblestones here – thank goodness!)   A rickety tram takes you around the city, mostly for free – there is no place to buy a ticket and you can’t pay on board. They say the service is so bad, no one pays, and the service doesn’t improve because they have no money because no one pays!   And it’s true – in the middle of traveling around the city, our driver stopped, got out and stood on the corner with a group of people and lit a cigarette! We all sat on the tram until she finished her smoke break and then carried on again. But we didn’t pay so we don’t complain.   The tram takes you right to the Belgrade Fortress, at the crossroads of the Danube and Sava rivers. It’s well preserved, with stone walls, draw bridges and hidden walkways. There are several museums, churches and restaurants inside, as well as a large park. The fortress is a perfect spot to watch the sunset…with sweeping views over the city and rivers.   I’m sharing an apartment this month out in the suburbs. There’s a high school across the street, grocery store and bakery on the corner and botanical gardens one block away. It’s a quiet, cozy neighborhood and suits me just fine.   It’s also close to a huge daily farmer’s market. There are rows and rows of vendors with tomatos, zucchini, mushrooms, lemons, raspberries and watermelon. I’m still figuring out the currency and thought my bag of peaches was 700 dinar ($7) but it was only 70 dinar – $0.70! Not even $1 for a full bag of peaches – how do they make any money?   There are the usual beautiful buildings – Parliament, St. Sava and St. Marks Churches, and Republic Square. I also love the pedestrian-only areas, where you can easily stroll through shops, sit at a fountain or eat lunch on a patio.   We had a chance to go kayaking on the Sava River, giving us a new perspective of Belgrade. There are several floating bars and I was surprised their nightclub district was on the river. Surely someone drinks too much and falls in on a regular basis, right? I’m always amazed at the different safety standards around the world!   But my favourite activity in Serbia so far was heading an hour outside the city to a small town called Novi Sad. Its city centre is small and easily walked within a half hour, including the park. We grabbed a fresh pressed juice and strolled along, seeking out shade and stopping to listen to local music.   We then headed to Petrovaradin Fortress, another well preserved fortress with stone walls, tunnels and moat. It is also the site of the annual EXIT music festival, an event that brings over 500,000 people to Novi Sad.   And finally, we wrapped up our day at a traditional farm. Driving past fields of sunflowers and corn, I knew I was going to like our destination. When we arrived, they had a long table set up under a huge tree – outdoor dining, my favourite!   Everything they served was homemade and delicious. A welcome drink of rakia, corn bread, cabbage and cucumber salad, fresh egg noodles with beef stew, and chocolate cake. Amazing food, stunning views and fresh air – what more could we ask for? Puppies!   Yup, they had puppies and dogs running all over the farm! Some were curled up for naps, others chased their tails and some played with toys but all of them stopped long enough for ear scratches, tummy rubs and snuggles.   Strolling through the fields, the farmer explained if you ate the dried cherries, you would fall in love with the man who gave them to you. He slyly mentioned this after I’d eaten the cherries he offered!   At the edge of one pasture, I noticed a few friends sitting on straw bales so I walked over. One guy had brought his guitar so we sat around listening to him sing, lazily watching the clouds float by and gazing over the fields.   Time seemed to stop. Dogs came and went. The breeze kept us cool under the shade of a tree. Cows mooed in the distance. I was aware of simply being alive.   Breathe in, breathe out.   There was no past haunting me… no future worrying me… there was only this moment – the only moment that mattered.   These are the moments I remember, the moments I cherish. The stillness. The peacefulness.   When you know you are exactly where you are supposed to be. When you remember why you chose this path. Where you can return to in your mind anytime you need to find peace.   I feel the country girl inside me growing restless, reminding me who I am and what feeds my soul…and gently showing me a way of life that suits me best.   I don’t know what life looks like after Remote Year but you can bet I’ll be seeking a wide-open space, with room for friends and dogs, and laying on a blanket looking at the clouds.     What about you – where do you feel most at home?

100 days is a milestone. We see it in politics (the first 100 days in office) and in personal projects (choose one thing – gratitude, yoga, walking – and do it for 100 days).   I recently celebrated 100 days of leaving behind my job, family and friends to travel the world, spending one month in 12 cities with Remote Year. My fellow remotes gathered around a campfire in Sofia, Bulgaria to reflect on how we’re feeling and to set our intentions for the remaining eight months.   The feelings were mixed.   Some people said it’s been the happiest time in their entire lives; others said they felt alone. Some said they had achieved nearly all the goals they set for the year; others said they felt they hadn’t even started pursuing any goals. Some never set goals at all and simply wanted to see where the year took them. Some people started relationships; others ended them. Some had friends and family come to visit; others returned home for quick visits with loved ones. Some left the program and others wonder if they’ll be able to stay.   And how do I feel?   It’s been…interesting.   I started the program with lofty expectations, with big goals and plans for all the things I thought I could accomplish if I wasn’t working a 9-to-5 job and wasn’t concerned with the daily tasks of owning a home and a car and being a responsible adult, good friend and helpful daughter.   I thought I’d have hours every day to master meditation, practice yoga, eat healthy, write in my journal, build a communications business and explore each city.   But things take much longer in a new country with a foreign language and no transportation. Sometimes you can spend half a day just trying to mail postcards! And often it takes hours to get groceries.   Everything is new – new apartment, new roommates, new workspace, new currency – and my brain is in overdrive. I know it’s important to vary your routine so you don’t go through life on autopilot. When I was home, I often drove a different route to work or brushed my teeth with my left hand to keep my mind sharp.   But Remote Year takes my brain to a whole new level.   Each month we throw ourselves into a new city and try to figure it out in 30 days. Our brains don’t have time to adapt, there is no routine, there is no habit – the nervous system is constantly firing, trying to figure out what we’re up to!   Yes, it can be exhausting (hence afternoon naps and regular massages) but it is also exhilarating. My mind and body feels alive!   I’ve experienced a range of emotions over 100 days – some things have been harder than I expected, other things have been easier but I’ve never once doubted my decision to make this journey.   I know deep in my soul that this was the path I had to take, lessons that must be learned now and growth I was ready to embrace.   I’m a third of the way through my adventure and I’ve tossed out my original goal list. It was written by an ambitious but naïve woman.   Instead, I’m focusing on how I want to feel every moment, every day.   I want to feel joy, I want to feel alive, I want to soak up these moments and store them away to savour when I’m 90 years old and remember the woman who was brave enough to leave everything behind and wander the world, guided only by a whisper telling her…   …yes!    

  How do you know when your fear is irrational and something you should “get over” or if it’s your intuition telling you “don’t do it”?   Over the years and through traveling alone, I’ve developed a strong sense of intuition and rarely do I question the gut feeling that tells me not to walk down a certain street or to turn left instead of right.   But I’m not traveling alone and sometimes it’s easy to get swept up in others enthusiasm and write off that niggling feeling as simply nerves. There’s a feeling of wanting to belong, of not being left out.   I thought I had a solid sense of who I was but realized you can still have moments when you forget.   The city team organized a day of white water rafting and many remotes excitedly signed up. I had zero interest, as I’ve had friends who drowned so the idea of getting into an inflatable raft and purposely bouncing off rocks in rushing water didn’t sound smart.   It’s also month four of our 12-month journey so people are reviewing their finances more closely, including myself. I was chatting with a friend about all the activities and mentioned that I wasn’t doing some of them due to costs.   A dear friend overheard part of the conversation and thought I wanted to go white water rafting but couldn’t afford it so she bought me a ticket!   She was so excited to surprise me and I was so overwhelmed by her generosity, we stood there crying and laughing and hugging…and I didn’t have the heart to tell her I didn’t want to go. I thought maybe this was a sign that I should go and get over my fear.   I tried to smile but noticed my heart rate had increased.   Over the next two days, I couldn’t sleep. I tossed and turned and woke up drenched in sweat, panicked from dreams I couldn’t recall. I prayed for bad weather so the event would be cancelled.   When the list came out to confirm who was going, my name wasn’t on it and I secretly rejoiced – did they overbook and there wasn’t room for me?!  But no, they had listed another Michelle by mistake and I was confirmed. Crap!   The morning came for us to go and I was a wreck. I considered backing out but put on what I hoped was a brave face and met the group for the two-hour drive.   The bus was silent as everyone fell asleep but that wasn’t an option for me. I stared out the window at the beautiful scenery and tried to control my breathing.   When we arrived, I tracked down our guide and explained my fears. She assured me everything would be fine. I suited up and we headed down to the river for the safety demonstration.   I’m sure they have to cover every possible scenario which will likely never happen, but as the list of things went on and she continued to say “if this happens, don’t panic”, I could feel myself already panicking and tears starting to escape from my eyes.   But the clincher came when she asked the group to separate into two rafts – one for those who were a little nervous or beginners and one for those experienced or who wanted more thrills.   Everyone stepped away from me and I stood at the beginner raft all alone.     No one wanted to come with me.     At that moment, I never felt so lonely – so homesick for my friends who would have stood by me and put their arms around me for support.   It felt like hours that I stood there alone until I heard someone say, “I’ll come with you, Michelle”.   I looked up and saw one of the youngest, most athletic guys walking towards me – someone I knew wanted to be in the “thrill” raft. He gave me a hug, told me everything would be okay and the floodgate of tears opened.   Slowly our raft filled with others and we were off. My body was visibly shaking but I pressed on.   Forward, back, forward, stop – our guide continued to yell instructions as we went along. Our first rapids approached and I held my breath. We made it without issue but I felt nauseous. The guide asked if I was okay and I said “no, this is not fun”. She simply smiled and said, “it’s okay.”   The second rapids came up and I was terrified. We hit a boulder, knocking one of the girls into the bottom of the raft, and then started going backwards as a huge wave crashed over the raft and I was paralyzed with fear.   Our guide moved us to the side of the river and looked at me – do you want to get off?   Hell yes!!   I scrambled out of the raft, knees shaking as I tried to climb the bank. The rest of the group carried on down the river and I rode in the van with the photographer, trying to calm my racing heart.   When we met again at the end of the river, I was relieved to see everyone safe and sound. I enjoyed hearing their adventures and never once doubted my decision to get out of the raft early.   It wasn’t a fear I needed to “get over” – it was my intuition telling me it wasn’t right for me. Your body knows the truth, you just have to be willing to listen.   Next time, I’ll remember to speak up in the moment. If I had told my friend from the beginning that I didn’t want to go, I would have saved myself days of anxiety. I’m sure she would have understood but I didn’t want to appear ungrateful.   Lesson learned – you

When you reach a certain age, it can feel like many of your “firsts” are over – first car, first love, first home, first stamp in your passport, first time talking all night and watching the sun come up. I think that’s why we write bucket lists – a list of “firsts” we still want to do or see in our lifetime.   And then there are the “firsts” you weren’t expecting and never wrote on any list. My time in Bulgaria has added a few surprising “firsts”, including getting naked in public!   It was Monday morning and our track activity was described as “a meditative walk around the lake and enjoy the mineral baths”. It sounded like the perfect way to start the week.   Leaving at 7am, we drove to Pancharevo Lake, a man-made lake 12 kms outside of Sofia. As we started walking around the lake, our guide, Asen, stopped at a trail and said, “now we begin the silent hike”.   Hike? Umm, I thought we were doing a walk?!   Turns out we were going to walk up the mountain for a lovely view of the lake. (Reminder – traveling involves constant adjustments to your expectations…)   We were encouraged to not talk – simply follow the path and enjoy being in nature. As a single gal, I often walk/hike alone so I’m quite comfortable with silence and soaking up my surroundings.   As we walked along, I quickly found myself at the back of the group, alone. I have a naturally slower gait but I also enjoy taking my time to look at the flowers, appreciating the sunshine breaking through tall tree branches, stopping to listen to the birds sing, and simply standing still for a few deep breathes and feeling my heart beat in the coolness of a forest.   I eventually got to the end of the trail, where the group was posing for photos, enjoying the scenery and popping open a bottle to celebrate a friend’s birthday. From our vantage point, we looked across the lake, over the mountains and back towards the city. One lone red kayak was a tiny dot below, quietly slipping through the water.   The group was more boisterous on the way down, until we got to the mineral baths and were informed it was mandatory to be nude.   Wait – what?!   Surely a bathing suit is fine?   Oh no, you must be naked to enter the healing waters.   We hesitated, looking around at people we’ve known for just over three months and still had eight months travelling together. Were we really ready to see each other naked?   Our guide noticed our reluctance and said, “don’t worry – there’s a boys side and a girls side”.  Well, that’s a bit better.   We looked at each other and said “…when in Bulgaria…” and off we went.   Agreeing there would be no mention of tattoos seen or any other discussion about what may or may not be about to happen, 14 girls stripped down and we walked through the door to the mineral baths.   Now you might be thinking – okay, no big deal, just make a bee-line for the pool and jump in.   Oh, no, no, no – there is a full process and a very stern lady to make sure we followed procedure (and continually “shhhh” our nervous laughter).   You start with a shower, then walk over to the 37 degree mineral bath, where you stay for five to ten minutes (there’s a light that goes on/off to keep track of time). Then out for a full body exfoliating scrub, back in the shower and then over to the 42 degree mineral bath for another five minute soak. Back out, scrub again, back in shower….so basically, a whole bunch of walking around naked!   Fortunately, there were several (naked) Bulgarian women in the baths so it felt more normal – although I don’t know if it ever really feels normal to be naked in front of so many friends and strangers.   As we tried to quickly dress and get outside to cool down, I felt more connected to these women I’m travelling with for a year.   None of us were comfortable being naked, all of us have things about our bodies we’re learning to love, and each of us embraced a new cultural tradition.   Getting naked with friends and strangers wasn’t on anyone’s bucket list for this year and I’m pretty sure it was a first for everyone!   And I guess that’s the beauty of this journey – we have our own agenda but sometimes you’ll be asked to do something way outside your comfort zone and you’ll have to choose.   Will you try the wild and crazy thing or will you play it safe?   Sometimes I choose wild and crazy (skydiving in New Zealand – yes!) and sometimes I choose safe (white water rafting in Bulgaria – no!) But on this day, I chose to be vulnerable and not take life so seriously.   And now I can scratch off “get naked in public” from future bucket lists!     Your turn – what wild and crazy thing have you done that you never thought you’d do?!                

  We arrived in colorful Lisbon, Portugal on a Saturday night. After a cold, wet month in Prague, I was really looking forward to some sunshine and beach time. Loading up the vans with everyone’s luggage, we were finally off to check out our apartments for the month.   We pulled up to a cute green door in a bright yellow building and I was pleasantly surprised to learn we were on the first floor (although the steps were steep). Our apartment is adorable and has been nicknamed “grandma’s house” due to the mismatched antique furniture, floral seat cushions and unusual artwork.   The ceilings are barely 6’, with the kitchen and bathroom even lower.  But there is so much natural light, with three double-doors overlooking the street and even a reading room complete with cozy couch, fluffy blankets and a full bookcase.   My favourite spot requires a bit of maneuvering as you step up and duck your head at the same time, then shimmy through a doorway, eventually leading to a private backyard terrace. I see myself enjoying breakfast, afternoon tea and a good book out here.   Due to our late arrival and having no idea where a grocery store would be, everyone decided to meet at the Time Out Market for dinner. Turns out 11pm is prime time for dinner and the TO Market is the place to be!   It’s an upscale food court with over 20 restaurants and rows of tables and chairs, plus dance club music blasting. The girls were dressed up in high heels and the guys were looking sharp with button-down tops – this was the place to start your night out. (We’ve since learned that restaurants don’t even open until 8pm, and many clubs open at 2am – staying open until dawn!)   The next morning, we joined a free walking tour of the city, which included restaurant recommendations, best viewpoints for photos and tips on things to do during our stay. Overall, a great tour, however I still lacked a sense of direction, as Lisbon streets are narrow, windy and very hilly.   The following day was a holiday in Portugal and we were told everything would be closed, including grocery stores and restaurants. We decided a family potluck was the best solution for dinner. Twelve of us gathered and brought what we could find – various types of pasta, cheese and crackers, fresh salad, frozen pizza and plenty of desserts. We were set!   Throughout the evening, I noticed my throat was getting sore and thought perhaps I was tired from the flight and settling into a new city. But the next morning I woke up completely exhausted.  Over the coming days, it grew into a full fledge spring cold and knocked me out for almost two weeks!   Each morning I woke thinking “today I’ll feel better!” and slowly my energy drained as the cold settled into my chest and my coughing kept me up all night. I snuggled into bed feeling sorry for myself as I gazed out the window and wondered what Portugal was like.   It turns out some version of this cold hit about half of my fellow remotes and we were all feeling miserable. It got me thinking:   …our bodies can only take so much adventure, …our minds can only handle so much newness, …our spirits can only step outside our comfort zone for so long,   until everything decides it needs a break, a time out to recharge.   Once I realized I had been pushing myself harder for longer than I ever have in my life, I knew what my body was saying – let me rest.   I let go of wanting to still see the sights while having coughing fits, of trying to meet friends for dinner while constantly blowing my nose, of saying “yes” when I knew I should stay in bed.   I gave myself permission to simply be – to sleep whenever I was tired, to stay in my pajamas all day, to drink tea and read books. And not worry about seeing everything Portugal has to offer. It will still be there when I’m ready…but for now, I needed a timeout to take care of me.   I’m feeling much better today (and wanted to blog to tell you I’m okay!) and am looking forward to sharing what I discover over the next two weeks in this beautiful country now that I’m rested and recharged!

It’s the start of month three on my year-long adventure and I thought I’d reflect on the journey so far, what I’ve learned, what’s been challenging, what I’m looking forward to.   I’ve gotten pretty good at packing and unpacking my life, finding the nearest grocery store, figuring out the public transportation system and converting local currency. I join a walking tour or take a hop on/hop off bus first thing in a new city to get my bearings. I notice landmarks near my apartment so I can find my way home.   I’ve learned to live with strangers, who are becoming friends, and I’ve learned to operate a dishwasher, washing machine and oven in three foreign languages. I’ve come to appreciate line drying my clothes, opening the windows to cool down the house and using church bells to tell time.   I miss driving. I love to drive and have rented vehicles in each country so far but still miss the freedom of having your own wheels. I’m trying to appreciate the beauty of walking and taking in the sights but can’t help feeling I could accomplish so much more.   Adjusting to a slower pace of life is something I haven’t mastered yet. I see so many inefficiencies and marvel that everyone is okay with something taking two months to complete when it could be done in two days. Maybe this is something I’m here to learn – not everything needs to be done quickly, sometimes it’s okay to go slow?   My biggest challenge remains adapting from employee to entrepreneur. It’s exciting and liberating to be in control of your life, of deciding when you wake up and what your day looks like.   But it’s also scary and overwhelming to figure out what you want and how to get there. The first two months I joyously woke up anytime I liked and did whatever I wanted but like so many things in like, there needs to be balance.   Month three I’ve implemented a bit of structure back into my day. I set my alarm for 8am (which is much later than my usual 6am back home) so it’s a balance between forcing myself to get up too early and feeling like I slept away the morning. I usually wake up before the alarm but it’s there as a backup system.   I’ve also scheduled time each morning for meditation and yoga. This routine has always worked well for me and somehow in all the chaos I lost sight of it. Starting the day in a way that feels good to me helps the rest of the day flow how I want.   I’m still learning to embrace the uncertainty of where my next paycheque is coming from. I’ve always felt entrepreneurial and wanted to have my own business but wasn’t really sure what that looked like. Having a year away from work to sort it out is a gift and I’m trying to trust the process that everything will unfold exactly as it’s meant to. For someone who likes to be in control, this is a tough lesson and requires daily reminders!   It’s still easy to get wrapped up in the day-to-day of figuring out what to do, where to go, who to see and suddenly you’re sitting here at month three and realizing the whole year could fly by without accomplishing what you set out to do!   Ahhh, the balance of planning and being spontaneous.  A constant crossroads in my life.   Some mornings I wake up and have to remind myself where I am (Portugal!) and what an amazing adventure I’m on. I know it’s a once-in-a-lifetime experience and I don’t want to waste it.   I don’t want to spend a minute worrying about the small things (like landing another contract), or worrying about getting in shape (it’s happening naturally climbing all these hills), or worrying about what I’m missing back home (my friends and family love me and are cheering me on).   I want to make the most of this opportunity and look back knowing that I gave it my all – that I found a way to be true to myself (when it’s so easy to get pulled into what others are doing), that I took care of myself (even if it means saying “no” to other things I want), and that I’m living a life I love (and that it’s okay to define what that means as I go along).   I’m here, in this moment, doing something I’ve always dreamed about, something so far from the ordinary that I still wonder if it’s real!   It’s month three and I’m refocused, looking at the end game – where do I want to be in March 2018? How do I want my life to look? Who have I become?   I’m excited to share these answers as I slowly discover them myself!  

I’m a rule follower, I always have been. I use my signal lights, cross at crosswalks, and follow posted signs. I file my taxes on time. I read the owner’s manual for every appliance I purchase and review instructions before putting together furniture.   People laugh at my “10 and 2” hand position and tease me about how long it will take to get somewhere if I’m driving. But that’s okay. Being safe and organized makes me happy. (Yes, happy!)   I can focus knowing everything is in its place, I like knowing what I’m getting into before I get started and okay, I’ll admit that I like to be in control.   You might think that sounds dull or that I don’t have any fun. But here’s what I find interesting – while part of my life seems safe and boring, other parts seem risky and adventurous!   I’ve jumped out of a plane at 15,000 feet above New Zealand, I’ve back-packed through Asia alone, I flew half-way around the world to meet a man I’d only ever spoken to on the phone, I’ve packed everything I owned and moved to a new city on a whim and I’m currently traveling with 60 strangers spending one month in 12 cities around the world!   Yet these things didn’t seem risky when I made the decision (although friends and family would disagree, which is why I often don’t tell them until after!)   And this makes me think about life – is it true that how we do one thing is how we do everything? I’m not sure.   To me, traveling and having adventures is what I live for but I still crave structure and rules. Can you have both?   A few years ago, I was standing on a street corner in Hanoi, Vietnam unable to move. There were no crosswalks and traffic was insane – buses, trucks, motorcycles, bicycles, animals, people – all flying by without any sense of order or rules. I looked around, frozen.   As I stood there, a local lady grabbed my arm and kindly guided me across the street, stopping and moving our way frogger-style through the traffic.   When we reached the other side, I nodded my thanks and smiled. I realized what looked like chaos to me was in fact organized and natural to someone else.   So perhaps adventure and structure can exist together if we shift our perspective!   My fellow travelers still tease me as I wait for the light to change before crossing a deserted street or constantly ask what the speed limit is, and that’s okay – I’m here, I’m pursuing my dream, I’m having adventures.   And yes, I’m following the rules.   Do you follow the rules or make your own?

Do you ever feel like you’re so far behind that you’ll never catch up? That everyone else is so far ahead you wonder if you’re even on the right path? I did…until I learned an important lesson this week after getting lost in a national park.   It started off with the realization that we’re half way through our month in Croatia and there’s still so many things we want to see! A group of ten of us rented two cars and headed north to Plitvice Lakes, the largest and most visited National Park.   It was an easy three-hour drive (on the right-hand side of the road) and we arrived before lunch. We paid the entrance fee and headed down the trail towards a large waterfall, along a series of wooden boardwalks. Walking over the rushing water sent shivers through my body – the power and beauty was breath-taking.   I should also mention that the lovely wooden boardwalks have no railings – very different safety standards than Canadian parks! So yes, the thought of wet wood being slippery and tripping into the waterfall crossed my mind but I remained focused on my steps while cautiously taking in the views. (Some of the guys were taking video footage as they walked along, oblivious to the potential dangers – I marveled at their confidence and tried to remember if I approached life the same way in my 20s…)   The group carried along and I found myself near the back, where the guys were taking their time to capture video footage and even launch a drone camera. We came to a fork in the road – to the left were very steep steps leading into a cave and to the right the path simply carried along. Naturally the guys sprinted up the stairs into the cave but I stood at the bottom debating what to do.   The stairs looked slippery and I was scared. I stood there looking on, while my mind filled with questions: Do I follow and risk an injury? Do I stand here and wait? What if the trail continues and I’m left behind? Did the rest of the group go into the cave or did they go right?   I waited several minutes but no one returned. I decided the guys were simply taking their time getting footage and the rest of the group must have gone right. I head back towards the path and turned right.   As I walked along, trying to hurry to catch the group but watching where I stepped so I didn’t slip into the water, my mind kept racing. Each corner I turned expecting to see my friends but the trail was empty. Maybe they didn’t come this way? I turned around and went back but that trail was empty too.   I was alone.   I had a map so I was sure I could find my way back but the thought of doing it alone made me nervous. I knew I didn’t want to go into the cave so I had to keep going forward. I turned around and started off again on my own.   Suddenly the boardwalk ended and the trail became dirt and rocks. A few steps down the trail I realized it was washed out – the water was over my shoes and I didn’t see any way around. Surely this wasn’t right? I can’t imagine the group came along this trail, did they? The image of the cave behind me reminded me I had to move forward so I stepped into the water.   As I cautiously picked my footing over roots and rocks, I heard voices behind me. Yeah, people! It was two older ladies and a black dog. I asked them if I was going the right direction, if they had seen my friends but they didn’t speak English. Not to worry, they were on the path so I no longer felt alone.   I followed behind them until we came to another fork – they pointed to the right for me, which led to the ferry, and they continued left. I was on my own again but felt certain I would catch up with my group at the ferry.   As I continued along the path (no longer covered in water but an actual smooth path!), I saw the ferry coming. I hurried along, as the ferry ran every 30 minutes and I was already so far behind my group.   I arrived at the ferry dock just as they were letting people on but I didn’t recognize anyone. Was I really that far behind? Or did they notice I was missing and went back to find me? I had no idea where they were and decided the best thing to do was follow the map and make my way back to the cars. Eventually they would show up at the cars, right?   I took the ferry, hiked up a hill then jumped on a shuttle bus which dropped me off at a view point and signs pointing back to the main entrance. As I walked, alone again, I felt calm. I don’t know why I became separated from my group but there was nothing I could do – I simply accepted it and hoped they weren’t too worried.   As I walked along, I saw stairs leading down, down, down into a cave and realized this must be the same cave they had gone into – there was an exit! They could be anywhere in the park by now so I continued with my plan to go back to the cars.   When I arrived, there was still no one around. Fortunately, I had the keys so I sat inside and waited. Nearly two hours later they arrived! After a group hug we pieced together what happened.   They had all gone into the cave but the cave led to other caves and they spent some