Trusting Yourself - Travel

This another blog in the #Trust30 initiatve series - cant believe i'm up to prompt #5 already...

( From Chris Guillebeau ) Not everyone wants to travel the world, but most people can identify at least one place in the world they’d like to visit before they die. Where is that place for you, and what will you do to make sure you get there?

As a teenager - and especially one who suffered from depression - i constantly had my head in the clouds, dreaming of the future ( which, in my mind, would no doubt be much better than my present... ). And these future adventures quite often occurred in exotic locations, foreign destinations as far from my rural town existence as i could get. I did a lot of day-dreaming, so choosing just one place that i'd like to visit before i die hasnt been easy.

I've been fortunate enough to be able to have travelled a little. I lived and worked in suburban New Jersey, USA, which allowed me to spend a lot of time in New York City ( and doesnt every film loving teenager dream of going there? ); i did a four day trek through the Andes to Machu Picchu and experienced not just the majesty of Mother Nature but the spiritual beliefs of a culture much, much different from my own ( its a long story ); and i've done the SE Asia thing, spending a few weeks traipsing through Vietnam, Cambodia and Thailand. At one point, my short term life goal was to have visited at least one country on every continent before i turn 30 - with only 2 and half years to go i am only 2 continents shy of that goal but, unfortunately, a lack of finances has made achieving that goal impossible. So where do i go from here?

Morrocco

I move the goal posts from " ...before i turn 30 " to " ...before i die " and to achieve that goal i'd take my updated dream trip - a few weeks travelling from Morrocco , through Portugal, into Spain, and then across to France and finally Italy. So rather than the " place " referred to in the prompt question, i've gone with the one trip i want to do before i die. This trip crosses everything off my list - two continents, fantastic food, different cultures and languages and a broad range of experiences.

Spain

 Its a trip i could do with my husband ( who is still currently my fiance ) when our children ( currently only one but we'll work on that towards the end of this year ) are grown; something we can aspire to do when we retire, or earlier if circumstances allow. It will mean dedicating small savings to a specific account, sacrificing frivolous things would could have in the here and now, knowing how amazing the end goal will be. It means cheaper, smaller, domestic holidays as a family, quality family time spent in our own backyard, saving that big overseas trip for us as a couple - a reward for a job well done in raising a family. ( Presumably ).

Italy

And it means that i keep dreaming of the colours; the aromas; the rushes of excitment - and live my life as if that dream is only a day or two away...

* All images from http://www.weheartit.com/  - and i hope the bullfighting picture doesnt offend anyone, i just wanted something that was quintessentially Spanish...

Trust me on the Sunscreen

So yes, i have been quite the past week but you'll just have to forgive me because i have been away on a little holiday. To the coast. With beaches and stuff. Jealous much ?

Ok, dont all hate on me at once. In truth it was just a very simple getaway for a few days. My uncle was getting married ( for the THIRD time... ) on a Sunday, and seeing as how i would have had to have taken the Monday off work i decided to take a whole week off. It's the first full weeks holiday i have had in over a year, so i figure i deserve it - even if two of the days would be taken up with driving to my destination. Yes, we drive places around here -thats one thing i never could get over when i lived in the US. People never to seem to drive far there ( like we went for a weekend away, to a place only an hour and halfs drive, and the boys needed a a DVD player in the back ).

But i digress. So my convoy and I ( that would be my parents in car#1, my sister and I in car#2 and my brother and his family in car#3 ) got up at 5am to be ready to leave for Wollongong at 6am. That sounds kind of early but when you have a 7hr trip in front of you, you might wanna leave a little early. We had to stop a few more times than would be usual because we had a 3 yr old and a 7 week old with us, but overall the drive down wasnt too bad. The wedding on Sunday afternoon was quite nice too but my apologies - i forgot to take my camera so until my rello's come through with some photos, i have no pics of me in my dress, my cute flowergirl neice or the idyllic beach location.

Monday we hit up the waterpark i mentioned in my previous post. I hadnt been to theme park or waterpark for a few years, so i have to admit i was kind of excited. It turned out to be good fun - except the sunburn part. Let me just explain something to you - apparently teh sun also hits the lower half of your body so you should probably apply sunscreen to your legs aswell. I was so diligent with my shoulders, back and arms - the places i usually cop the dreaded red burn - but i completely ignored my legs and feet, which resulted in a lobster red calves and feet that looked like they had been painted up some kind of chilli bbq sauce. I'm one of these girls who wear long, surfing style board shorts ( especially when their is the chance of getting a huge wedgy down a speed slide ), so i know have a distinct difference in colour between the top and bottom halves of my legs. ( Again, my apologies, no pictures for your amusement ). Oh well, live and learn i guess.

Aside from general exploring of the area, the only other activity we got up to was shopping and snoozing, two of my favourite things to do. Its nice to go hit the shops when you come from a smaller town - the bigger places have outlets that we dont and besides, i could shop anywhere, anytime if given the chance. Same applies to the napping really.

And thats about it. I suppose in a future post i could do a rundown of the great stuff i bought ( two pairs of shoes, silver and garnet ring to add to my collection, cute new handbag, a few long 'grandpa' cardigans for winter.... ) but without pictures, who would care ? Til then though, i have two more days off before i'm back to work. Poo to that.

P.S For those of you who find the title of this post familiar, click here. Or here.

Shiny, Happy People...

Uh...person. Meaning me. Yes, this is a feel-good, everything-is-going-great, you-cant-get-the-smile-off-my-face kind of post. I have just had a really good day, and again i'm not exactly sure why. Just lately, say in the last 6 or 7 weeks or so, I have found myself smiling, whistling, humming all the time and i have really been enjoying my job. I've come to realise that i love talking to people and i especially love advising people on the fashion aspects of getting glasses. Sure, Yogi and The Bell still get to me, but not to the point where i want throw the towel in anymore. Its a relatively new feeling - this shiny happiness. I like it!

I'm starting to become one of those incredibly chirpy people that i used to loathe. Is this a good or a bad thing ? Is it good that I'm consistently happy, and enjoying the conisistent happiness? Is it a bad thing that i used to really dislike people like that ? Either way, it doesnt matter - what matters is things are on the up and up.

Lets see: I've bought property and have a million and one ideas buzzing through my brain about how to decorate it; I'm loving my job at the moment and, i think consequently, have really brought my store up in the business side of things; I have the next week off work, during which time i will be attending a wedding, going shopping and spending a day at a water park; and i have a casual lunch date next Saturday.

Seriously, i know this post is sickly sweet and your all sitting back going " Oh God, what is she so happy about ? Seriously, all this sap makes me want to throw up ! " - but smile people, and embrace the happy....

Short and Sweet - Its Been On My Mind

Dear Dr S - Anaethetist,

What is up with you charging me so damn much for your services ? If I knew you were going to make me pay through the nose, I would have drunk myself into a stupor and knocked myself out. But i suppose its the old supply vs demand thing isnt it ?I needed the needle and you could supply that; however you dont need the money ( which i dont exactly have to supply ). Therefore, I'm going to pay you in installments - let you sweat on it a little.
How do you like them apples ?
Amy
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Dear She Who Feels So Hard Done By,

You're joking, right? I hate to tell you, but you reap what you sow. How you could expect love after giving no affection, respect after years of thinly velied insults, and admiration without innovation is beyond me. Perhaps if you'd made all these efforts ten or fifteen years ago, the end result might have been different. As it stands, your probably better off cultivating relationships with the new little people in your life.
Better luck the second time around,
Amy
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Dear P,

So glad you had a happy birthday! Thankyou for indulging my need to go out for brunch; sorry we got sunburnt. Also, thanks for taking me to see your neice - she is too gorgeous! I get so carried away in m own two neices, I forget how cute other peoples kids can be. My fingers are crossed that you have your own cute little kidlets by the end of this year.
I'll get back to you about my birthday wish list,
Amy
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Dear Chadwick,

So good to hear from you! The best emails are the ones that come completely out of the blue - or the white, as it were, seeing as you've told me your snowed under up there in Canada. You need to get your arse down here to Australia and get yourself a tan. Although, as the public service ads here warn us " Tanning is skin cells in trauma ". I swear that ad makes me want tot throw up. But forget all that - we have to save some money and get our respective selves on another holiday. Seriously, you were the best travel buddy of the bunch.
Wanna hit up Morrocco ?
Amy
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( Thanks to this post by Andy for the " short letters " idea ).

Getting To Know Me- Its An Epic

You people know i love a meme or two so, in the spirit of particpation, I've decided to take part in Andy's " Getting to Know You Week ". And, in the vein of Andy's most recent post ( involving what may or may not have been a ghostly car chase ) I've decided to tell you all about a small part of my trip to Peru. The spooky part. Sure, the story is not from my childhood, but is from my past which is an integral part of getting to know me, so i'm going to assume Andy wont mind me slightly bending the rules. One or two of you may have heard this story before - for those of you who havent, hold onto your seats....


For those of you who are not up on your geography or world heritage sites, that is Machu Picchu, an ancient Inca city built into the Andes mountains. You may recognise it from Lonely PLanet guidebooks, National Geographic calendars or any of the 1001 travel shows being broadcast around the globe. It is, undeniably, a popular tourist destination - and the best way to get there ? On foot. Yes - foot: a four day trek through the Andes, starting at an outpost known as KM88 and finishing at Machu Picchu ( hopefully at either sunrise or sunset, if you time it right ... ). So that's we're i'll start my story - on the Inca Trail, on the 2nd day of the trek.

I'm not going to lie - the Inca Trail is no easy slog. Its not like i was some kind of ultra-fit, athletic superwoman . I was a slightly-larger-than-I-am-now trekking novice who'd never done anything at altitude before. But it promised to be the adventure of a lifetime, and who was i to turn that down ( even if it did feel like my lungs were going to explode ) ? Just making it into camp on the first day - accompanied by my all-male encouragement troupe, 3 guys i'd only known a few days before who insisted that singing " Eye of the Tiger " would motivate us up the mountain - was a Godsend. Day two promised to be harder. By mid mornng we would be ( slowly, painfully ) making our way to Warminwayusca, or Dead Womans Pass. This pass is 4500m above sea level and, as the highest point on the trek, is considered the toughest part of the journey. With the whole group having reached the summit, we stopped for a snack and a photo opportunity. It was from here that everything went downhill- both literally and figuratively.

My boys, after the trek - i believe they had moved onto Spice Girls songs by then

When our guide said it was time to pack ourselves up and get on the move, i tired sitting up but i felt all lightheaded and lethargic - it was like all the energy had been completely drained out of my body. I took a minute and tired to gather myself together but, when i looked a little wobbly on my feet, my guide and one of the other guys volunteered to walk at the back with me. Within a half an our, not only was i wobbly on my feet but i could barely seem to lift my arms - rather than walking with my walking sick, i was dragging it behind me in the dirt. My trekking buddy, Lachlan, said he'd carry my pack for me and my guide Jugo supported me on one side. I'd been drinking water and we'd only just eaten, so i should have all the energy in the world, but within another half hour, my vision had gone blurry and i was now being supported on both sides. I wasnt so much as walking, as being slowly dragged up the mountain side by an ex-Army recruit and a small Incan man. Mind you, all the guides are trained in first aid and a nurse in our group mentioned she thought i might be dehydrated or could possibly have altitude sickness.

And so we stopped. Jugo radioed ahead for one of the porters to come back with some blankets and he sat me down on a very comfy rock on the side of the trail. He gave me me water and put me on an oxygen tank for 20 minutes. He also made me inhale some foul smelling yuck, which apprently alleviates the symptoms of altitude sickness. All of that and - nada. I could barely breath, by this time could barely see, and felt like both my arms and legs were being weighed down by concrete. To be quite honest, i wuld have been perfectly happy to curl up on that there rock and die. Obviously, leaving me to die on a barren hillside isnt wasnt exactly part of Jugo's job description so... they carried me. Yes, you read that right - Jugo, Lachlan and Alejandro, the young guide who came back with the blankets, carried me. On their backs, They tied me on with the blankets, just like Peruvian women do with their babies.Hell, they even ran! Lachlan was a big guy, but Jugo and Alejandro were typically short, small, Incan men, and they ran with my whole 60kg/150lb of weight on their backs. I was slipping in and out of conscious - the only thing i do clealy remember is catching up to the rest of our group and Jugo telling them they had to get me immediately to camp.

Which is where i woke up. I woke up with Jugo leaning over me, stroking my head, telling me i was going to be okay, not to worry, he was sending someone into see me. Yep, no worries - zzzzzzzzz. Next thing i know there is a " Hola, senorita ? Hola ? " at the opening to my tent and in comes this really old guy. Here comes the cool part - he props my head up and starts muttering, kind of chanting, in the local Incan language. I was already almost completely out of it, too far gone to make any objection to what he was doing anyway. So the old guy keeps up the muttering and then he lights up something a bowl until it starts smoking. Once he had his smoke going, he blew it all over me: directly into my face, over the top of my head, down the front of my shirt, everywhere. He rubbed whatever he'd crushed up in his bowl over my face and arms, finished up with his chanting, said " Buenos noches, senorita ", and disappeared. Two of my female trekking companions them came in and helped me put on more clothing layers and then - blackness. I passed out or fell asleep for a while and then rested very fitfully ( i;d say slept, but i dont think i really did ) for the rest of the night.

Morning comes and .... i feel awesome. I wake up feeling great, go out and eat breakfast with everyone - albeit while copping some very strange looks from my trek buddies. Everyone wants to know how i feel and Jugo takes me aside to make sure i'm feeling okay. And that was it, we set off for the day. No-one rally talks much about the day before, except to say that i looked terrible, all limp like a rag doll and one of our older members thought i might have been dead. No-one bothers to tell me what may or may not have been wrong with me, but it didnt really matter because i was doing fine. It wasnt until our first snack break that anyone decided to let me in on what went on the previous night. So, take a deep breath people, here it comes : I WAS POSSESSED. Don't re-red that to see if it makes more sense, it wont. Apparently, whilst i had been laid up in my tent, delirious, Jugo had taken everyone else aside and told them what was going to happen, because he didnt want them to think i was being taken advantage of or anything. He, and the other porters - all Peruvian indian men - thought i had been taken over by a mountain spirit, spirits that the Incan people believed kept guard over their trail. The elderly gentleman, who turned out to be one of our porters, was also a kind of Incan medecine man, was going to go in an perform some kind of exorcism ritual, and expel whatever spirit it was that had taken me over.

And there you have it - when all the scientific medecines didnt work, when i only continued to get worse, it was decided that i must have been possessed and only pagan magic could save me. And you know what ? It did. The oxygen, the foul smelling inhalant, the water and pills, none of that worked but the chanting and the smoke blowing had me feeling as fresh as a daisy. Not only did i not struggle with the rest of the trek, but i was the second person to make it to the gateway to Machu Pichhu. It was like i'd been suddenly blessed or something. When we had finished our tek and met back up in town with our other tour guide, Jonathon, he told me in full what had gone on. He said he had only heard of two other women in 15 years of leading tours who had got so sick, so suddenly, and in the same spot on the trek ( straight after Dead Womans Pass ), and the same smoke blowing, chanting, praying-whatever worked on them too. You can believe what you want but, having lived the experience and being of a hippie-dippie spiritual mind anyway, i'm like 95% sure something otherworldly happened to me up there.

Either way, it sure beats the hell out of most peoples vacation stories....