foreign travel experience #2

You know that feeling when you bite into the best burger of your life and you're savoring every bit of it and then... it's gone. You finished it. You leave the restaurant thinking, yep. I'm definitely coming back here! I felt that way about traveling alone. Only on a way grander scale!

I started to think about my second solo trip. Where should I go? Definitely Europe again (I'm in love with all things European) but Europe is expensive to fly to! I looked into Istanbul, Santorini, Canary Islands, Prague, Denmark, Sweden... everything was so expensive. And then I remembered some friends of mine talking about their trip to Iceland. YES! I looked up flights in July and it was totally doable. I booked my flight (3 months in advance) to Reykjavik and happily awaited July's arrival.

I had learned a really important thing about myself in Barcelona. Although, I like to think I don't need structure and that I go through my days and my life taking experiences as they may come, that is not exactly grounded in reality. I went to Barcelona with not one thing on the itinerary. I didn't have an itinerary. I did have a list of cafes and restaurants but that was about it. It turns out that walking around, eating, reading, and writing gets old and makes me feel anxious. So, with this new knowledge in mind, I began researching the fuck out of Iceland.

I made an itinerary for myself that I ended up sticking to, give or take a few things:

Sunday- arrival day: checked into my guesthouse, took a shower, had coffee on a rooftop and talked to an English gentleman, walked to this random flea market they have by the bay on weekends, sat at the duck pond, walked around a bit, ate a burger and talked to these guys about where to go, and went to bed super early. It was hard to sleep that night because I kept waking up and thinking it was the next day (midnight sun!)

Monday- went to a quiet cafe and ate delicious rye bread with havarti and drank coffee, climbed up to the top of a tower and took pictures, went horseback riding, soaked at the Blue Lagoon (drank red wine from the swim-up bar), went back to Arni's Place (guesthouse), tried to wash the sulfur out of my hair (harder than it seems; my hair was stiff for days from that lagoon water), went for a glass of wine and to do laundry at a convenient spot called the Laundromat cafe.

Tuesday- woke up and went for coffee, lunch at the Laundromat, walked around, and then left for the Golden Circle Evening Tour. I saw waterfalls, lavafields, drove through this random, interesting town, and saw my favorite thing in the natural world: geysers. Geysers are the most amazing thing in the world. I could have stood there all day and happily watched water bubbling and then shooting up from the earth every few minutes but my bus was leaving and so I said goodbye to Geysir, the most famous geyser in all of Iceland.

Wednesday- Landmanalauger. A little tour to the South east of Reykjavik. Another set of lavafields (turns out Iceland is filled with lavafields) and saw Hekkla up close. She is the most unpredictable and active volcano on the island. She is beautiful. I also soaked in a warm and beautiful natural hot spring. It was super cold and I couldn't believe that people were camping there and hanging out outside but some travelers are tough like that. I got back and had wine at Laundromat.

Thursday- didn't have anything on the agenda but I did want to go for a swim. I walked to this pool that was highly recommended. It was about a half hour walk. It had a giant slide that I waited in a line to ride. You walk into a doorway. You are standing in, basically a covered spiral staircase and the walls are brightly colored windows. You circle your way up to the top and when it is your turn, there is a traffic light that tells you when to go (safety first!) and you go shooting down a twisty, turny, pitch black, insane slide for what feels like forever- until you plummet back into the pool. And then you're just basically in a normal pool for the rest of the time. Oh! But they did have hot tubs to soak in. There were five (I think) hot tubs in a row, lining the swimming pool, each one 10 degrees hotter than the one before it. I tried them all. I don't know, I guess I'm just crazy like thats! I also ate some candy that day. That was fun. Iceland has similar candy to Spain- super into marshmallow and gummy candy, except that in Iceland, it's not as fresh...

Friday- I shopped. I walked. I ate. I went on a tour to the Gull brewery and learned about some Icelandic history- prohibition lasted pretty long!

Saturday- There was this awesome parade. I'm not a fan of parades, usually, but this one was cool because, well, let's face it: Reykjavik is filled with hip, attractive, cool people. Anything they do is going to be cool. Later on, I went to see a one woman comedy show about the history of Iceland.

Sunday- Said goodbye to the most beautiful place I ever had the pleasure of knowing.

In Iceland, I learned that when I'm busier, I am less anxious. I didn't feel uncomfortable the entire time I was in Iceland. I was ok with those moments of quiet because it is so serene and beautiful there.

And the hot people totally help.

foreign travel experience #1

Recently, while thinking of my life (which i do quite often), I came to the realization that I've never been anywhere alone. Oh, I've been places. Growing up, we took family vacays to Maryland to visit family, Florida to visit family, New Hampshire, Arizona, California, New Mexico to visit... well, you get the picture. I think I got it in my head along the way that when you travel, it is best to go with family/ friends and to know a person when you get to your destination.

As an adult, I went to college upstate, knowing somewhere there. I studied in London for a semester and my college sweetheart came with me. I landed an internship in Alaska and a friend did too. I moved to Oregon with a friend, and finally to NYC where my boyfriend (now ex) was waiting for me.

I decided it was time to go it alone. Not only was I ready, I was hungry for it. I hadn't been out of the country since 1998. It. Was. Time. Plus, my psychic said she saw foreign travel for me in 2011. I had to prove her right so I could continue to see her.

February 2011. I have a week off from work. I do it. I book my flight to Spain. I packed my bags and got on the airplane full of nervousness and high hopes. When the plane landed, I realized that I was in a place where I didn't know a soul; and the idea of that freaked me out to no end.

Let me back up a little. Early February, I went to a bar for a girl's birthday dinner. I had met this girl once and thought she was nice and decided to go. I'm not often like that. I'm much more aloof. But I went. A friend of the birthday girl shows up. She said she lived in Barcelona and gave me the email address of a good friend of hers. She said this girl would love to show me around; that she is sweet and amazing and she wouldn't give me her email if she thought she wouldn't be open to it. I emailed the girl and got a nice response. This seemed promising, but I'm a jaded New Yorker. I am from Generation X... everyone's a flake in my mind. Turns out this girl was not.

When I got to Barcelona, I had this feeling of restlessness. I didn't quite know what to do with myself. It is a city, after all. I didn't really know where anything was. I don't speak Spanish very well (un poquito solomente) and I'm not willing to be super outgoing. And so, I wandered along. I walked around Barrio Gothic until it started to get dark. I started getting scared, my head filling with all the stories I have heard of the amazingly talented pick-pockets. Also, there are aggressive prostitutes everywhere. I decide at 6:00 that I would sit in a coffee shop, drink hot chocolate, read, write, have a cigarette, and call it a night. That's when my phone rang.

Araceli thought that sounded terribly stupid and convinced me to come meet her for tea and to go out after. After much deliberation, I got dressed and walked in the dark to some place called macba to look for a girl I didn't know. I didn't even know what she looked like. Standing there for a few minutes, I hear a girl with an adorable Catalan accent say, "Laura?" I excitedly hugged her, so happy to have someone know me! Long story short, she became my fast friend, my tour guide, my week-long saviour. She introduced me to people who could drive me on their motor bikes to sites too far out of the city, like Park Guell and Sagrida Familia. She met up with me during the day to take me to traditional Spanish meals. We met up every single night to do all sorts of things; karaoke, a squater warehouse for a variety show, sitting at a bar, eating tapas, listening to live music, and riding bikes to different neighborhoods along the beach. She even taught me how to sneak into amazing seats at the opera house without spending more than 20 euros.

From this experience, I came home feeling really content. With myself and with the universe. My very first trip on my own, ever, and the universe put into effect a series of events to ensure that I had fun and felt comfortable.

The universe does provide. And sometimes I forget that. I need these experiences to remind me of this. And so, thank you Barcelona. I love you.