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Day 30: I'm Going Home

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Pretty much me this entire trip, even after I got accustomed to the time zone.

theAwkwardYeti.com

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Day 29: Pressing 'Pause'

So, tomorrow I fly home. I'm thankfully not in as much pain as I was even two days ago, but even traveling between my Airbnb, returning the car, and moving onto my new hotel was a trying and exhausting experience. Continuing on while I feel this way distresses me greatly, and the downsides to doing so as opposed to the downsides of going home aren't nearly comparable. So I'll stress my body once more tomorrow, when I take the train 3.5 hours back to Oakland and take a red-eye flight that leaves at 9:15pm and gets into NY at 5:30am. I'll lay low for two weeks, and if I'm fully recovered (and I expect to be), I'll travel with my boyfriend to New Mexico and continue the last leg of my trip as I would have. If I don't recover, well then it's a good thing I went home when I did, right? :) I've accomplished so much of what I set out to on this trip. I learned to be more open to strangers, and made some amazing connections in the process. I learned to lean on myself in completely new ways, and I learned how strong I really am. I was a total champ alone at the hospital, in good spirits and not having a breakdown even when I didn't know if there actually was a blood clot in my lung. I've problem solved, I've been independent. I saw SO MUCH beauty, in cities and in nature. I've done all of this, and so I know that I will come back and complete the two weeks I am skipping at another time, because I've proven to myself that I can. Not only that I can travel alone, but that I LIKE traveling alone. I love waking up with no set agenda and going places on a whim. I like not having to answer to anyone else's desires, or expectations, or having to go at their pace and not mine. Of course, I love traveling with others as well. But I never thought I'd love solo travel the way that I have. Even when sick, even through this, I don't regret a single moment. Including deciding to go home. I'll keep updating here, and once I'm back on the road you'll be among the first to know! It's been a pleasure sharing my bits of travel with you, and this is not the end!

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Day 27: It Wasn't A Pinched Nerve

After waking at 4:30am with bad chest pains and an inability to take a deep breath without very painful consequences, after a morning in Urgent Care, followed by an afternoon in the hospital to rule out a blood clot in my lungs, I've been diagnosed with Pleurisy, which is an inflammation of the membranes on my plural cavity. Essentially, my lungs are rubbing against my inflamed lung cases and it feels like someone is stabbing me in the chest when I take a deep breath, and like someone is sitting on my chest when I'm just sitting here being alive. Apparently the cure for this is NSAIDs and rest. Right now it means a lot of pain and a complete inability to exert myself in any real way. I'm gonna lay low for a couple of days and hope to recover, but this may spell the end of my travels for the moment. I'm feeling sad, but most of that is being in pain and alone and nearly 3,000 miles from everyone I love and who might take care of me if I were with them. Then again, part of the point of this trip was to be able to handle the hard shit on my own, and I'm pretty sure I did that today. When they told me I needed to go to the hospital, that I could have a pulmonary embolism from the hiking I did in high altitudes, I didn't panic. I ovaried up, took my broken self to the hospital, and made sure to joke with all the staff to get the best possible care. I didn't cry, or get down on myself, or get full of self-pity because I was alone. I just went about my business. I'm not gonna lie, I cried a little afterward, but to be fair I really hadn't eaten all day and I was exhausted and in pain. So that's where I stand right now. Tomorrow I'll lay low in my Airbnb in nowheresville, which at least has a sweet full soaker tub. Friday I move onto my 'splurge' hotel, which is a Holiday Inn with a pool. I'll see how I'm feeling from there, and start to make decisions. I know I've said it a lot, but thank you to all of you who have kept up with me. It's been really fun knowing that there are people out there who have been living vicariously through me. I hope I can continue to be your vassal.

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Another picture to appease my minor fan base: Alcatraz! It was so surreal and overgrown there; I definitely recommend the trip!

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Day...26? It's Day 26, right?

Lady dudes, Bro girls, followers of all shapes, sizes, genders, gems…I’m dropping the ball. Obviously. I hope my apology duck has soothed you some, but I had to share with you my current situation.

On Monday, I packed myself up from a relaxing weekend of downtime in Oakland (finally saw Wonder Woman!) and made my way down to Yosemite International Hostel…which was, unfortunately, a mistake. I did manage to make friends with a girl who was in just for the night, so there was a bright spot in all of this. But this hostel…ugh. The mattress was two inches thick, and directly on top of a plank of wood. The ‘pillow’ wasn’t even half as thick as that. So, while I slept pretty uninterrupted while in a room with 7 other people, I managed to wake up with an unreasonable amount of pain in my shoulder, running down my arm. I’m pretty sure at this point that I actually pinched a nerve in my neck, given that this pillow could barely support it’s existence, let alone my head.

Listen, I don’t want to come off as a prissy little bitch who cant take roughing it. This made the 11th night in the past 14 that I had slept in a hostel. I never had a problem the previous 10 hostels. This. Place. Is. A. Shitshow. Locks on the doors are laughable, since everyone just leaves the doors open anyway. They do not provide towels, even on a rental basis. They want you to pay $5 for something no bigger than a tea towel. You must pay $10 for laundry. You must pay your entire fee in cash, up front. There was no hot water for my shower, and I had to kill two cockroaches in the bathroom before I even went about my business.

I pushed on to Yosemite today, but honestly that didn’t go well either. The altitude kicked my butt (I started a hike above 8,600’) which triggered an asthma attack. I tried to make the most of it by stopping at scenic routes along my way back, getting in some good pictures on the way. The scenery really is mind-glowingly beautiful. But by the time I was driving back, the pain in my shoulder and down my arm was so excruciating that I drove most of the way back in tears. I had already booked an Airbnb for tomorrow and Thursday, but had resigned myself to another night in the hostel when a friend convinced me to blow my budget on a night in a hotel and the chance at some restorative sleep.

So now I find myself in Jamestown, California, which may as well be nowhere. I’m staying in a 'cottage’, which does indeed have a kitchen. The only a/c unit is in the bedroom, so when you pass through the kitchen to get to the bathroom it’s blazingly hot (did I mention it was 104 degrees when I arrived? AT 5PM?). But the best part of this place? There’s no way to turn on the overhead light in the bathroom OR the kitchen. I’ve scoured every surface and there is simply no light switch. At this point, all I can do is laugh.

Tomorrow, barring a miracle of a good night’s sleep curing this pain, it’ll be off to the emergency clinic to see what they can do for me. The way things stand right now, it’s painful to carry my day pack, so hiking is pretty much out. My traveling backpack is much heavier than the day pack, so once I’m out of my rental car things should get very interesting very fast. I’m hoping the pain goes away, or that there’s a way to help me, because if rest is what I need then I’m not sure what that means for the rest of this trip.

Wish me well, good readers (all like…5-10 of you?). Fewer readers means more of my love to go around!

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I know I’ve neglected you, dear readers. Please accept this apology duck on a leash, who rode on BART with me from San Francisco to Oakland. Not pictured: her owners, who each had teacup chihuahuas in little purses slung over their shoulders.

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Day 13: Tummy Troubles

I'm laid up in my hostel today, not feeling so hot. Did over 8 miles of walking yesterday, from my hostel in NW Portland through Forest Park (largest city park in the world) up to Powell Mansion and back via Salt & Straw where I ate (and adored) OLIVE OIL ICE CREAM. Then the hostel had an excursion to a local bar with live music, where both bands that played had an accordion player. Portland, amirite? Anyway, I had to coin the term 'cemetery folk' for what I was hearing, and it's maybe my new favorite genre of music. But all that exertion seems to have thrown me off, and now I'm lying in my top bunk just resting. I made a plan to go tonight to a place called Kennedy School which is a former elementary school converted to a hotel/pool/several bars/live music venue? Hopefully I'll be up to it.

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Day 10: Fell a little flat.

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Day 10: I'm Off the Rails

Already the idea of going back through days 6-9 in excruciating detail seems exhausting. I'm beginning to realize that putting the pressure on myself to go back and recount every single moment is kind of counter-intuitive to the purposes of this trip. Or, at least, not doing that is productive to the purposes, in that I'm supposed to be getting in touch with myself and figuring out what I want and then giving myself permission to do that thing (as long as it's not going to be ridiculously harmful or anything). And so, I'm giving myself permission to not recount every moment to all of you. But obviously I'm not going to write NOTHING. So I'll say that Seattle was a really great city, though I spent most of my time within 10 square blocks. We stayed within walking distance of the Space Needle, and everything we did was around there. The Chihuly Glass and Garden, the Terra-cotta Soldier special exhibition at the Pacific Science Center, the Museum of Pop Culture. All really excellent, all highly recommended by yours truly. But nothing that really gets my literary juices flowing in terms of recaps. Though MoPop had a Jim Henson exhibit, and honestly I had no idea (though it doesn't surprise me) that the muppets were as funny at the beginning as they were when I first encountered them. I also had no idea that Rowlf was really the first commercially successful muppet, but good for him. He can lord that over Kermit! As my previous picture posts shows, I've spent the last two days just outside of Mount Rainier National Park, staying at a place called Whittaker's Bunkhouse which does have actual hotel rooms but I stayed in the actual bunkhouse: a little house with 6 beds. Mostly people have one night stays on their way to hike the mountain. The grounds hosts one of the companies that people can hire to take them up, and so mostly they'll stay in the house the night before and then leave to make their stab at the peak. I honestly can't imagine what that hike must be like. Yesterday I hiked from 5,300' in elevation to around 6,500' and that was harder than I'd expected. I've lived basically all my life at or within 100' of sea level, so probably I'm at a disadvantage to begin with. It wasn't even my body that hurt on the way up (thanks to my physical trainer!) it was the breathing I found difficult. I took more than my fair share of breaks just to return to a place where it didn't feel like I was laboring for every breath. Infinite respect to the two girls I met last night (when the power on the property went out..) who are attempting the peak within the next couple of days. The top is nearly 7,000' higher than I was yesterday, on a glacier that can crumble and slide and take you with it at a moment's notice. Probably they aren't thinking about that. So far I seem to have fallen into a pattern of getting up around 8 or 8:30, setting off to adventure, and then being back in my room by around 3 or so. The rest of the night I kind of just spend dicking around. I like to be in before the sun sets (though it sets late around here), and I like how rested I feel, how ready I am for activity. It's never been easy for me to get up before at least 9:30, but I get up easily and naturally on this trip so far. I haven't been lonely yet, and come tomorrow I'll be in a Portland hostel for four days, so hopefully I'll make some friends. I'll keep posting photos sporadically. I really can't completely figure out the formatting, and it's easier just to spam your feeds all HEY, LOOKIE HERE FOR A MINUTE. Not that there are too many of you following. Thanks to those who are! I look forward to sharing more with you as I go!

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Day 9 Preview: 6,500+ feet above sea level. Hello, beautiful Mount Rainier!

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Days 3 - 5: Victoria and Vomiting

Despite the title, this was mostly a successful and fun couple of days.

Day 3 had us departing Vancouver after our brief love affair with their Chinese food and heading to Victoria via a beautiful ferry ride out of the tip of Richmond (outside of Vancouver proper). The scenery was beautiful, and since I’m a bit nearsighted I went to grab my glasses to see it more clearly. Except, as it turns out, I packed my glasses case but NOT my glasses.

Driving from the ferry port into Victoria proper reminded me a lot of Long Island, for the most part. Lots of big box stores like the ones we have, a mall on the outskirts of town. But the brands like ‘Boston Pizza’ and a store offering ‘Vintage Hot Tubs’ definitely made it clear we were not in the States. (Because who’s going to Boston for PIZZA?)

We stayed at Hotel Rialto, which is about a 10 minute walk from the harbor in Victoria. It was SWANKY! They gave us a voucher for a free cheese plate in their tapas lounge, there was a towel warmer in the bathroom and robes for us to use while we were there. This was probably going to be the most luxury I would be getting on this trip, so I took full advantage. 

After we settled in, we still had some time to spare and decided to explore the neighborhood. A quick Google search told me there was something called the Miniature Museum a short walk away, and if there’s anything I love more than things it's SMALLER VERSIONS OF THINGS, so off we went!

It did not disappoint! This was at least 30 miniature dioramas of war scenes, the history of Canada, a carnival section, a fairy tale section, tons of doll houses and much, much more! There were buttons you could push that would make the trains go or turn the lights in the dollhouses on and off, and we all know I’m great at pushing buttons so I PUSHED THEM ALL.

Day 4 was quintessential Victoria: Butchart Gardens and tea at The Empress. The gardens were absolutely gorgeous, and where most people take 1.5 hours to explore, we took three (I like to linger :D). The most beautiful part was the Sunken Garden, which was created in an abandoned limestone quarry:

There was also a rose garden and a Japanese garden and an Italian garden (which has gelato that you MUST have if you go). The landscaper really outdid themselves.

Next was high tea at The Empress, which overlooks the harbor. TBH, I’ve had better high teas, but seeing as those were in England I’m giving The Empress a pass. There was still two pots of tea and a tower of food, and we were very happy with it, and thankful for the walk back to the hotel to digest it all. :P

Day 5 was travel from Victoria to Seattle on a Clipper ferry, and here, dear readers, comes the vomiting. It turns out that Clipper ferries (which are passenger only) are much more subject to bobbing around, and these inner ears of mine were made for bigger vessels than that one. By the time we got to the hotel, I was done for the day.

To anyone that’s read all this way, or who continues to read the banalities of my travel life, THANK YOU! I’m sorry I’m so behind (it’s now day 8 as I write this) but hopefully I will catch up soon! Wifi has been spotty, but LOOK, I FIGURED OUT HOW TO NOT CLOG YOUR FEEDS so that counts for something, right? 

(It also seems that I can only post a certain amount of pictures at any given moment before the Tumblrs explode, so the only way to get you more pictures is to post them one by one. Say YAY if you want this!)

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Instagram

For those playing along at home who want to be sure to see photos (in the event that I can’t figure out a long term solution with my iPad) you can follow me on Instagram @jabrwoky27 :)

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Aforementioned fried rice cakes. Not at all what I was picturing but probably the best Chinese food I’ve ever had!

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Day 1 and 2 - Mishaps and Travel

It’s finally here! My very first post from what David has deemed my ‘walkabout’. I was originally meant to leave on July 7th, but my body wasn’t on board with that plan and so I switched my flight to join my mother who was flying on the 8th to meet me on the 9th to journey to Victoria. Alas, this meant that Vancouver and I had only the briefest of rendezvous, mostly involving their airport (which is less an airport and more like what you’d expect from the entrance to a Disney exhibit: large, stylized, native looking birds and boats with running water and piped in animal sounds). After our 6+ hour flight, we just wanted some hot food and to collapse into bed and fight the jet lag. Fortunately for us, there was a Chinese restaurant a block away from our hotel. When we walked in and saw we were the only non-Chinese people there we knew we were in for a great meal, and they did NOT disappoint! Something called fried rice cakes, which seemed to be little coins of gelatinous rice, fried with bamboo shoots and greens…I swear it’s what dreams are made of. If I could figure out how to post a picture in my post I’d do so, but as I’m doing this from my phone I’m not sure that’s possible.

As I write this we are backing out of the ferry port from Vancouver en route to Victoria. The water is calm, and you can see mountains in the distance almost everywhere you look. More updates forthcoming, but for now I’m going to enjoy the ride!

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An Introduction

I am a person who is afraid of change. Plans, living situations, relationships; they change and my stomach starts doing flips, I start sweating, my heart starts racing, and my brain tells me it's time to RUN, though my body never manages to get do anything but freeze up. I'm also afraid of doing things alone. I was alone a lot as a kid, and I felt the pain of loneliness acutely. While I can sometimes be an introvert, it's less about not wanting to be with people and more about not wanting to leave my house. I just invite everyone over! So obviously, big changes and decisions are never things I've embarked upon alone. I always need someone else's input, someone else's help, the assurance of SOMEONE ELSE that what I'm doing is right and good and what should be done. I also realized that this isn't the way to live my life. My support system is great, but I can't guarantee they'll always be available to me. I'm going to have to do thing on my own at some point, and as afraid as I am of change, it's also one of the things about life that's completely unavoidable. My solution? A solo trip. Several months long. Where a few loved ones might join me for a leg or two, but which I would mostly take alone. Also, before I left I decided I'd finally move out of the suburbs of Long Island, where I've lived basically my entire life. Once I returned from the trip, I'd finally move myself into the city, sometime I'd always dreamed of doing but never had the guts to do. Out of the frying pan and into the fire. I'll be documenting my journey here, for anyone who wants to follow along. The actual trip doesn't start until July, but I'll be making some posts here, mostly my thoughts and feelings about turning my life upside down, but also progress reports on the packing/selling/junking of all the detritus of my 4 bedroom/2.5 bath/full basement/1 car garage apartment. While this is a journey alone, I am excited to share it all with you in this way. Looking forward to the summer!