Glasgow

I am in Glasgow today in a very good mood, upbeat and excited for the unknown. I had a great time and the BBQ last night and it makes me sad to leave. Everyone has been so kind and welcoming to me, which makes me regret that plane ticket in some ways.

We are now in St. Mungo Cathedral, where I am blown away each step I take. The stained glass is so vibrant and some live organ music just started playing. In the lower part of the church there are a dozen chapels and with their own interesting mantle. The skull and bones styled chapel reminds me of the religious life exhibit in the museum that we just saw, comparing death and afterlife in various religions.

On the bus ride back to Edinburgh I took a nap, which was a mistake after my long BBQ but I eventually made it to Philip's place. The more I think about these CouchSurfing experiences the more I am grateful to be able to go on this trip, to meet these people, to know that this can exist, and I can do it. I have visited 7 cities, CouchSurfed in 5 of them (not counting Marc's "unofficial" guest room in Newcastle), met loads of people that I have promised will meet again. I am going to keep that promise.

The Meaning of Life

Today is some pretty crazy shit. Well, that just came out, so I guess that's what's on my mind. I was surfing at James' place last night (I had no idea he was 21! Such a smart, worldly guy for 21) and I had a really good time. I really don't have one complaint about Edinburgh, well besides the situation with Ryan.

This is a very complex situation and a few things have been misunderstood. I have tried to smooth things over, work on helping him understand couchsurfing and the way I travel but we are bashing heads. I am not naïve about travel partners; I have had my fair share (Connie, Aurora, James, Amanda, Laura, Cory, Jacob, Lauren, Mike, Aaron, Danielle, Amy, and more I can't think of), but this is like two people trying to prove who is angrier.

I wanted to find a solution but he wants a way out, so there we go. I am sitting on a street bench in the Newington neighborhood getting my thoughts together. Marc's discussion with me about distant friends is coming to mind right now.

As I wrote before, I notice the little details, the mannerisms, the looks people give, the tone. I get it: I am sensible and can see and hear things that others barely notice.

All this 'I' talk is rather disconcerting, you can note that, yes. Walking across the city was great and I plan to do it again.

Next time I'll be easier on you, I say to myself. I am transient, yes transient. Graham would laugh at that statement and I am not judgmental. I am transient as I told everyone in late April as my ideas for attempted travel solidified.

I think about Gary with this entry. He and I are so similar, but he uses magic and I use this skills set that Kai so values about me. It's not work hard, play hard, ha! It's work hard, take pride in that, know your efforts are meaningful, useful.

I am bridging the gap between solitude and social darwinism in some way. I want to sit this one out, stop riding it out, and watch them struggle. What was the name of Dan's game again?

Balance

I have not had a chance to really get my bearings in Scotland yet. It hasn't been a wild crazy ride, but I am adjusting to having someone as my travel partner.

Right now I am in Cramond Village in suburban Edinburgh at the beach where there is much forrest. I climbed up a tree and I feel very relaxed. I'm not overwhelmed by this place, in fact I am politely content.

I feel a little stressed about finding couches because it is festival season but it is difficult writing these requests day in and day out. It exhausts me, CouchSurfing is real work. But I will land on my feet again because I have this bizarre good luck following me.

I miss New York and people back home. Ryan has reminded me of those and his thirst for adventure complicates mine. We are trying to get a balance, which is hard when both of you are used to being on your own.

I am feeling lackadaisical, swearing to myself that this was part of it all. I am feeling good, happy, content, ready, wondering, all the feelings you should have on an unchartered course. I thank CouchSurfing and my great friends for this.  I miss Connie and Aurora, but I will see them very soon, just as everyone in the States.

Let's not take ourselves so seriously and take a deep breath when we need it.

Traveling

Harrogate is passing me by outside the window on this nine hour journey to Newcastle. I see a man with a cob pipe sitting at a bus station, looking austerely at me. There is much greenery because of the rain, Paul tells me.

I just ate some sea salt and balsamic vinegar chips. The British are really good at chips, so many flavors, so pungent.

The man sitting across from me, he's probably 26, looks like he does some form of manual labor; dust and dirt all over his clothing and arms, he probably sees me ogling. He is reading a magazine called Zoo which looks like Maxim: rating girls in underwear, plus the requisite Mach 3 ads and random news articles, such as "Incredible Bear Rescue!"

The green is so bright, older couples walk hand in hand through the field. I've seen horses, cows and sheep in the pastures, farmhouses sprinkled along the way.

There is this Turkish guy in the back checking me out, creeping me out. He asks me for the time then grins for an extended period of time, and I walk back to the bus. The girl I was sitting next to has the left the bus in Leeds, and I think about exploring Leeds on my journey back to Belgium. There's no time, next time.

I keep telling myself how I am going to be more organized next time. I will, I promise.

London Calling

I just bought a dress. It was £3 and beautiful and now I am getting veggie English breakfast at a cafe in Notting Hill, oh to be so posh. I could get used to this. I am alone today, wandering around London to find James' friend's store nearby, and it always feels great to explore a new city on my own. Understand the transit system, watch how people act, speak, all of their mannerisms.

I haven't taken my videocamera anywhere. For some reason this trip is just about writing, recording with my own eyes; I cannot rely on someone else's eyes. Whatever I observe I try to write down, though there is a delay since I cannot always take my notebook out to jot something down. Here goes nothing.

Rinse; Repeat

It's 4am and I am on the ferry to London. I just exchanged nine euros to pounds, oy vey, the exchange rate just sucks. I bought food at Katy's cheap grocery in Amsterdam, so those costs will definitely be covered while I am in London for these three days; however, I need English breakfast at least once, and a chip shop of course!

I was questioned at the UK border for what seemed to be 20 mins. I had no idea that doing travel writing was so risque in the eyes of border control authorities. It seems like hitch-hiking is the preferred mode of transportation for the travel writer in Europe; less hassles, more adventure.

The new plan has involved several cheap bus, train and plane tickets up Northern Europe. Once I am in London I have a host who seems very nice with another CSer. I am planning on attending a curry dinner to meet the London CS scene tomorrow night. I know not a soul in this city, as will be true for all my next travels until the Boom Festival.

Over the weekend I am going to visit Marc Read, favorite physics professor, high school advisor, and I am overjoyed at this prospect. We have been keeping in touch a bit, but of my own fault in my busy/non-business neglect of e-mails, especially good pen pals. Julia, my other European pen pal has not answered any of my e-mails so I am not sure if I will get to see her on this trip, unfortunately.

Marc lives in Newcastle-upon-Tyne and from there I am journeying up to Edinburgh, another exploration. On these solo routes, I believe more writing will be accomplished as well as some significant flaneury (all activities included).

I have to "go out and see Europe," but this is a journey no matter where I am. I lose myself, get scared, land on my feet, then repeat.

Amsterdamned

Amsterdam is becoming a blur; not exactly limbo, but close to it. Where am I exactly going next, with whom and why exactly? Over-run with 18 year old pot heads, this place is funny. We've made some weird friends, including Kevin who describes me as someone who "likes the little things in life." Where he got that impression I'm not quite sure. Anyhow this was a short visit and I didn't go to any museums, but again walked the entire city.

I wished for some actual people from Amsterdam to speak with, but I could find none at easy disposal. I suppose I did not go searching the streets, I just thought this would be more organic like the other cities.

I am not disappointed in Amsterdam, far from it. It was cold, rainy, easy to get lost, but the buildings were absolutely gorgeous and the parties were really a lot of fun.

I didn't feel so alien with the language, since everyone speaks English and Antwerp's trance culture breeds in this place as well. Amsterdam seems easy to inhabit, but not call home. Not inherently alien in the same way as NYC; no one is completely alone, even it if feels that way (in a lost meaning). Amsterdamned will be my next pilot for NBC, a story based on Katy's job and room at the hostel. I will be rich someday (unrelated rant).

No sleep right now, better luck next time. New favorite song: Beautiful Life by Gui Boratto.

Good Luck

I never know what time it is when I start writing. It could be anywhere from 8am to 11am right now, but yesterday we had luck.

We left Antwerp later as per usual in our lazy daze. It really only took us two hours to get there as we arrived at a delicious diner party to meet our host (rather, potential host). We ate and drank and relaxed, though I was a bit worried about the likelihood of us finding a host that night. But our luck kept going and Yaap offered his place for the next two nights.

Right now I have to figure out what I am doing for my last month abroad. I bought my way too expensive return ticket back to New York from Lisbon. This means I am going to an even bigger electronic music festival, the Boom Festival from Aug 11-18, my final week away from home and my final week with Connie and Aurora.

My plans right now are to go to London next weekend and plan further escapades from there. Money is tight but I am here and I am doing this, not questioning myself anymore.

Antwerp

Business and nonbusiness have taken a hold of me this weekend. The last time I was online was the moment we got to Wannes' house on Friday eve for about five minutes, just enough time to write quick notes to people I needed to write back to.

I have now been offically gone for two weeks, the longest time I've ever departed New York since I moved away from home when I was 18. I am not lonely, I am not homesick, nor am I sad to be away. I am loving every experience handed to me, and indefinitely.

What this says about me, I'm not so sure.  I am curious, so let me be inquisitive about the world and all who encompass it. I can see everything if I want to or I can worry about how illogical this all is.

Yesterday, when I was dancing with Aurora at the Heron Festival (trance festival near Antwerp, Belgium), I asked myself, how am I doing all of this? I am dancing with my friend and meeting all of these great people, and I'm thousands of miles away from home; not to mention everyone speaking a language that is completely alien to me. Every time I am in a circle of friends I just look wide-eyed at everyone, trying to determine an idea or thesis that they are maintaining, usually falling short. Sometimes I'll hear "Macbook" or "Ben & Jerry's" then I get a subject, but reading this language seems near impossible, so we are lost in Dutch.

Nearly everyone speaks English so I can easily understand things when my own native tongue is spoken. However, such a language barrier incites misunderstandings, really simple ones actually.

I use the word annoying and such offense is taken because of blatant negativity. I met someone named Ingo who wanted my attention and he noticed my inherent honesty, perhaps that is the quality especially admired.

I appreciated it and I have enjoyed their circle, which reminds me so much of Portland, OR. Even the weather; mild, gray and rainy all year long. I miss Alnie.

New Vocation

I am staying overnight in a gas station. We have a safe place to stay that is warm, not bad, they say, 24-hour security in actuality. I am charging my computer so we can have music or maybe I can play solitaire or something. I wish there were internet so I could Skype maybe.

I am hearing harsh French but I'm not scared. I know I will get through all of this and have greater tolerance and stamina, stretching my limits.

What did I come looking for? An adventure, something to write home about, my destiny, everything. I write and record my own experiences, expressions. My talent lies in communication, relaying those common emotions; I get a sense of the everyday. I see this right now. I can read Connie's eyes as if they are the most transparent glass. I can tell a relationship just by looking at two people together in a photo or real-life mannerisms. This is my talent. Now what do I do with it? I have described situations before, short fiction and such, but I've never relayed this as my "skill" or my "gift".

This is the beginning. I need to find my calling, but it begins here, at 23. Rediscovering in only two weeks is very exciting. I still don't know what this means for me, touch and go, go forth. 

I have so many tools, but invention and I can work on this most definitely. All ideas are just shots in the dark, guesses to get me excited about something. I want something to get excited about.

Writing

It's like 6AM maybe. I keep drinking water to calm down my body, but nothing is helping. Connie and Aurora are sleeping peacefully as I writhe into eternity.

What is it, please tell me. Everything sounds 10 times louder than it should and nothing is
settled. My body is so confused by my mind and vice versa. I just need to keep writing and everything will be fine, right? Why such desperation?

My thoughts are running together and I don't know if my pen is catching them quickly enough. My body is over-heating, my head is about to explode. Was I drunk three hours ago? Yes. Explains it.

I want the day to start. I'll sleep when I'm dead.

Insomniac

I feel like I am alone again, and it's haunting me tonight. I can't sleep and it's 4:30AM, soon to be my last day in Paris and I don't know where we will be sleeping tomorr ow night. But that's not what's keeping me awake. It's anxiousness, not real anxiety, but some sort of fear to take the next step.

My real journey starts on Thursday when we head to Antwerp, a city where I know no one but my trusty travel companions. Yes they are trusty so the fear is not with them, but with a universal loneliness.

Tonight I think if there was something or someone to make me go back, I would go if only to take away this restlessness. I have a journey and I keep to my word, but why keep to your word when you are only testing yourself? Who is going to catch you in a lie when it is you who is lying to yourself?

So again, what is pushing me this way or that way? I am loving this intense freedom that is dizzying me all day long. Decisions are easy. Imagine if I had responsibilities. But I don't.

"Enjoy this trip, and get lost" but what if I can't be found again?

Aurora et Connie

Aurora et Connie have finally arrived in Paris as my Frenglish is getting better. A long escapade from Germany have finally led them to meet me and mentour journeys cross.

I have left Jeremy's apartment. It was nice enough, but I think I almost overstayed my welcome. I think he seemed a little worried, maybe on edge; but hey, first couchsurfing trip!

So now I am at Aurora and Connie's host, Nicolas in Issy les Moulineaux.