#elcaminodesantiago theway hiking meditation beyourself beme Icandothis fear wild eatpraylove goal blame nonjudgment story gof

[dreweric]

July 2016, Backpacking Europe, my Journey-of-Self-Discovery

  Facebook, August 21—Drew posted a photo— 

“It’s ok to not have everything figured out”—unknown 

  A little about my crazy head—a peek into my travel mind.

My mind is all over the place. So many questions arise while I am backpacking Europe—not  the common questions you might think:  Should I visit the Eiffel Tower or the Louvre Museum today. But difficult questions: Will I like my couch surfing host, or can I overcome my fear of missing a plane/bus/train or, how do I make friends on the road?

  Facebook, August 27—Drew posted a picture— 

“You are emerging from the cocoon of your former self. There are no limits to the extent of transformation that’s possible for you”—Marianne Williamson 

  I arrived in May and it’s now early September. I have moved through 13 countries and countless cities so far. I walked “El Camino de Santiago” through Northern Spain, flown a couple of times, went underground through the Chunnel from England to France and have ridden in cars, buses and trains. Still I don’t have all the answers on how to travel.

I love mystery novels. I am always looking for insights and clues that will help me see the truth through the words of the story and lead me to solve the puzzle that’s unfolding. In other words, I am approaching this journey as if I am Sherlock Holmes or Hercule Poirot, looking for clues to uncover the secrets to traveling Europe.

When I learn something new I try to submerge myself, really throw myself into the oceans deep end, of whatever it is I want to learn. I take notes, try new things and swim in the sea of the unknown until I arrive on the shoreline with answers. Here are a few of the questions I have found in a bottle on the shoreline of my mind.

Can I: 

Rely on my Spiritual practice and find peace on my journey?

Face my fears/challenges and overcome?

Make friends while traveling?

Understand the nuances of couch surfing?

Navigate new cities and countries with ease?

Figure out when to go home?

Let’s start at the top and I will give you a clue on what happens in my travel mind.

Can I use my spiritual practice and find peace on my journey?

I follow the teachings of “A Course in Miracles-ACIM” which basically tells you not to believe what your crazy ego and insane mind tell you to believe. My ego mind wants me to be on high alert, DEFCON 2-Red: Next step to nuclear war. (The DEFense readiness CONdition (DEFCON)

ACIM teaches you to avoid making up and believing in illusions. My DEFCON rating is an illusion since I am always safe and prepared. The foundation of ACIM is you’re always in the right place at the right time, doing exactly what is best for you.

Knowing all this and having a spiritual practice still doesn’t lower my DEFCON rating to 5-Blue: Lowest state of readiness. For me, only time and repetition seem to reduce the anxiety of trying something new. What my spiritual practice does do is to remind me I am safe, everything will work out and all will be exactly how it should be. I just might not like the result.

Can I face my fears/challenges and overcome? 

I made a decision in preparation for my journey; I want to put myself in as many uncomfortable situations as I can in order to grow spiritually.

When I was planning my trip I couldn’t comprehend traveling without an itinerary, direction or schedule of any kind. How do I backpack Europe with no plans? My first thought was to visit a girlfriend who recently moved back to her hometown of Keil, Germany. The idea of starting my trip visiting the home of a good friend was perfect and safe. I was considering at the time, possibly staying in Germany for an extended period—all to be safe and close to a friend who speaks German and could assist me in navigating my adventure.

As my plans progressed and I started to envision my adventure with a little more confidence, I was reminded of “El Camino De Santiago” a pilgrimage through northern Spain, walking from France to Santiago over 500 miles. Immediately my excitement grew because there was one thing I knew. “I can walk 500 miles.”

From that moment on, my trip began to take form. The Camino is well supported with hostels so you really have no worries about housing and food with restaurants and supplies all along the way. I no longer had to worry about my first month in Europe. All I would have to do is walk, walk, walk.

Once I finished the Camino and began exploring what else Europe has to offer, the stress and anxiety of doing something for the first time was overwhelming. I mediate, do yoga and consider myself a pretty chill guy. So this level of fear and stress was new for me. I had no idea I was capable of such a high level of anxiety. I was on DEFCON 2 teetering on DEFCON 1-White: Nuclear war is imminent. At least it felt that way to me.

Doing so many things for the first time contributed to my stress. I just began couch surfing, navigated travel arrangements, tried Airbnb, car-ride sharing, started using my new Mac book Air leaving my windows computer.

As with flying, my crazy ego mind attempted to convince me of all the possible things that could go wrong when changing countries, i.e. taxies, purchasing the wrong tickets, transportation to and from the airports, arriving on time, luggage, customs and the list goes on. I have only taken three flights on this trip so far, regardless of worrying; I made all the flights without a hitch.

Every time I change cities it’s as if fear and challenges knew I was coming as they both are waiting for me at the station ready to escort me into town. As a first time solo traveler, all the potential pitfalls could stop me in my tracks if I listen to my crazy ego mind and let my fears and challenges lead the way.

Can I make friends while traveling?  

Friendships have been a lifelong challenge for me and the Camino was no different. I knew going on the Camino I would have to face and overcome my attachment and separation issues. When I meet someone and instantly fall into friendship, I want to stay in the comfort of their company and never leave. When the friendship is complete I have a difficult time walking away. I pine over a relationship once it has ended, way past an appropriate amount of time. I miss people from my past and I miss the connectedness we once shared.

I also attach easily to people and want to be their “best friend”. This I have done since I was in grade-school. Moving around to six elementary schools prior to 4th grade, taught me to move fast and connect quickly because next semester I could be in another school.

In addition, I have a big personality. Sometimes I come on too strong while making new, best friends. While walking the Camino I knew friendships, attachment, separation and toning down my big personality to a manageable level was my work. It was hard in the beginning but it got easier as I made new friends and let them go. Each time I walked away I learned and got stronger.

The Camino really helped heal this part of my past. However when I left the comfort of the Camino and began my journey through Europe on my own, I felt like I was starting over again.

There were built-in people to meet and befriend, walking in the same direction while on my pilgrimage. Crazy people just like me that thought walking 500 miles was a good idea. I knew I needed to figure out how I was going to manage this new leg of my trip and make friends when they weren’t so readily supplied. Where and how do I walk upon someone and make a new friend.

I tried everything I could think of. I asked other travelers how they meet people on the road and where are some good places to meet other travelers? I learned hostels are a great place and www.couchsurfing.com has events on their website for meet ups and activities. So I went to as many meet-up’s as I could and talked to many travelers in hostels about what was happening, where to go and what to see.

In Paris I attended two meet-ups on the River Seine. I put my new found people skills to work and made some real progress. I settled into a comfortable space of acceptance with everyone I met.

I learned you can talk to someone for a minute, an hour or several days. You never know how long a friendship will last or if you will ever see them again. You can think your friendship is going well, you’re looking forward to what you will do together then; the next thing you know they disappeared in the crowd and you never saw them again. How did I lose them?

I have trained myself to enjoy a conversation as a complete package each and every time. Like a moment capsule (a moment in time that is contained and complete). If you’re lucky you get to repeat the experience. If not, then it was complete at that moment and all is well.

When I make new friends I wonder how we can enjoy our capsule of time. Are we:

Drinking mates?

Deep conversationalists?

Sightseeing pals?

Travel buddies?

I seem to want them to be all four, but I settle for one or two of my choices. Sometimes the gods are kind and I get all four and it’s heaven. But when I want them to be deep conversationalists, I might only enjoy a drink with them. Or, if I think they’d be travel buddies, I share only a great conversation in a park. My Spiritual work is to accept and let what is be all that it is.

Can I understand the nuances of couch surfing?

This is an unusual one to figure out since most people aren’t invited into stranger’s homes. Picture it; you’re staying in someone’s home for free, in exchange for conversation and companionship. You aren’t there to be too needy, require too much assistance or be a nuisance to the host. You are just supposed to know exactly what each host’s requirements are and the level of help they are willing to offer.

Every time I enter a host home, I am on high alert in an attempt to figure out what the host needs and wants and how they fit my needs and wants. Sometimes this can be disappointing. However my spiritual work tells me not to have expectations and send everyone I meet love regardless of how I am being treated or mistreated. When I leave a host home, sometimes I have mixed feelings and questions; did they like me, did I contribute to their life in a positive way, or vice versa.

One of my strongest fears prior to my trip was being stuck with a person I don’t find rewarding or doesn’t positively contribute to my life. With couch surfing this is a legitimate fear. The length of time I am staying with them is approximately 3 full days and 2 nights. If we aren’t compatible and the purpose of my stay is to be a friend and companion to them, this can be a real uncomfortable situation.

This is a cross section of couch surfing I have observed:

Sometimes you get a key and can come and go freely, other times you rely on them being home to let you in.

They offer you food, drink, coffee in the morning and even laundry. The opposite is also possible.

You can have freedom to come home when you like or you must be indoors when they go to bed.

They want you to make your own plans or they want to show you the town themselves.

The space can be as large as a full apartment or as small as a single bedroom with no real room to hang out in.

They could want you around to chat and hang out or be too busy to talk while you are in their home.

All this has to be “figured out” each time I enter into someone’s home. Clearly my observations skills have to be on high DEFCON alert and intuition comes into play. I joined couch surfing just before I left America and happily was invited to a host home in Barcelona. It was my first time living in a stranger’s home and I was just plain old scared, of everything really. Overall it went well, although I was somewhat of a burden especially after I lost my phone. He saw the fear in my eyes and wondered how I was going to survive backpacking Europe.

  Facebook, August 28—Drew posted a photo— 

“No one knows your path more then you do. Intuition is very real. Trust yourself more.”–unknown 

  Can I navigate new cities and countries with ease? 

After the Camino I had to figure out what I wanted out of my European journey. In the past I had a husband and didn’t really put to much thought into my needs or what I wanted. Now I had to figure out as a solo traveler in a foreign country what I wanted.

Do I want to:

See the sights?

Meet people, hang out and connect?

Drink too much or not at all?

Create art, take pictures and do pastels?

Keep up my yoga practice?

Experience a city like a local and do what locals do?

What I am figuring out is that I want all of it, delicately balanced. Fear of missing out(FOMO), is rearing its ugly head again. This has plagued me over the years and now it’s a daily challenge. If I stay out too late drinking with friends I feel guilty I didn’t sightsee the next day. If I go to bed early and leave my friends out on the town, I feel I missed something fun. If I see the sights solo, I wish I had friends to share with. If I see the sights with a friend, I might not have time to take all the photographs I want. If I do something like the locals I wonder what landmarks I’m not visiting.

My Spiritual teaching tells me to accept what is. This is my constant battle with my ego mind. I am trying to get to know myself and figure out what I want and what would I like to do and see. So I constantly evaluate/judge what I have done and think, could I have done it better and squeezed just a few more sights in, met more people, hung out longer, did more local stuff. This judging, negatively impacts my memories of the experience. I am learning not to judge in an effort to have more joyful memories. You are always in the right place at the right time, with the right people doing what you should be doing.

  Facebook, August 29—Drew posted a photo— 

“Stop over thinking. You can’t control everything, just let it be.”—unknown  

  Can I figure out when to go home? 

I have a return flight on September 29th to America. I have less than a month left. I am on a bus traveling to Venice to spend a few days. After Venice I will spend some time in Croatia then Budapest, Hungary to visit a girlfriend whom I met on the Camino.

When I arrived in Europe I received a 90 day visa over a 180 day period, allowing me to stay in countries that joined the Schengen Treaty.

Wikipedia: The Schengen Agreement is a treaty which led to the creation of Europe’s Schengen Area, in which internal border checks have largely been abolished. 

Having 90 days means I can pop in/out of the European Schengen area as many times as I wish as long as I don’t surpass 90 days over 180 day period. I am running out of Schengen time and I am now facing a tough decision whether I am ready to return to America or postpone and extend my flight. Venice, Italy is in the Treaty along with Hungary however Croatia is out of the Treaty. As you can see I am using the popping in/out of the treaty literally.

The question still remains, do I want to spend an extra couple months out of the Treaty here in Europe and automatically receive another 90 days in the treaty or return to America?

After Hungary I will head back to Croatia (out of the Treaty) and figure out the next step on my journey. I will consider looking for work, work exchange, coaching, teaching yoga, helping at a hostel or anything else I can find. I will consider traveling outside the Treaty waiting for another 90 days, at which time I will go back into the Treaty area.(The Balkans, Old Yugoslavia, is out of the Treaty)  Or I could go home to America, stay a couple months, attend a friend’s wedding then come back to Europe. I am open for all possibilities…

  Facebook, September 1—Drew posted a photo— 

“To love ourselves and support each other in the process of becoming real is perhaps the greatest single act of daring greatly”—Brene Brown 

  I often find myself scratching my crazy ego head while traveling; I have no idea what I am doing. Some days I am thrilled, while some days I am sad and lonely. Some days I have both feelings several times going back and forth from sad to happy to sad to thrilled. There is no predicting.

I feel guilty if I have feelings of sadness or unhappiness. As if I am supposed to feel thrilled and joyful every day, all the time, since I am in Europe on the trip of a lifetime. Why aren’t I happy all the time? Why can’t I just instinctively know what I want do it? I certainly can’t tell my friends at home, “all my days aren’t joy filled days”, some days yes, some days, sometimes. Being happy all day everyday is an unattainable goal. My spiritual work tells me to move past these feelings of guilt and shame because they are unnecessary emotions that don’t help my overall wellbeing, as I remind myself often.

What I know for sure is it’s a mixed bag. I am uncomfortable every day. I am scared at one time every day. I am happy every day. I am sad every day. I am emotional and vulnerable every day. I don’t know if I will every figure out what I want because what I want seems to keep changing. I do know I will get better at this. Traveling wonderfully sucks! Traveling is terribly terrific. Traveling is fantastically horrible, every day.

My spiritual work tells me not to judge. I have learned now my judgments are getting in the way of my happiness. If I spend so much time judging everything, It has a negative impact on my experience during my travels. If I just accept and enjoy life as it comes and treat everything as the adventure it is, I am much happier. That takes a great deal of work and concentration.

  Facebook, September 2—Drew posted a photo— 

“The greatest challenge in life is discovering who you are, the second greatest is being happy with what you find.”–unknown

  So now I am coming clean about how hard my travels have been. It’s a roller coaster in the dark, thrilling and disappointing when its over because you want to do it all over again with your eyes open. I haven’t practiced yoga but a few times on the Camino. I meditate, sometimes. I read “A Course In Miracles.” I have done one pastel and I struggle learning how to use my Rebel Cannon camera. My art supplies and camera add at least 10 lbs. to my backpack; it’s my burden to carry.

  Facebook, September 3—Drew posted a photo— 

“One day you will be at the place you always wanted to be. Keep believing. Keep moving forward.”—unknown 

  I work at being positive. I have been judgmental far too much. I have been angry, disappointed and hurt many times. I have been lonely and sad. I have also loved, been kind and thrilled to be alive. I am alive and I am feeling emotions I haven’t felt in years.

I also know I will continue to do my Spiritual work and overcome all my trepidations and obstacles and maintain a positive attitude. I will continue to meditate, read “A Course in Miracles” and remind myself, all will work out. A quote from “A Course in Miracles” says: “Trust and all problems are solved, now.” I remind myself to trust every day because God and the Universe know better than I do what is best for me. Universe, take the wheel!

I believe the answers I need will come as I continue searching for them throughout Europe. I can do this, I can learn from the road well traveled.

  Facebook, September 3—Shannon—

Drew, I am so intrigued and inspired by your experiences and how you press on, even though your comfort zones are few. I just got back from a week in France with dear friends, and the traveling days were the hardest part! I was so relieved to be back in the US where I didn’t have to worry about language barriers and worrying about getting to airports/gates/ etc. you are of very strong character to keep this journey up for so long! Keep experiencing everywhere and anything you can! And thank you for sharing all of  it with us! ️

—Drew— Thank you my love. Yea its pretty hard sometimes. Then days like yesterday are amazing. It’s a roller coaster of terrible fun. LOL. Trying to make money over here scares me but I am willing to consider it as an option. 

—Shannon— Go for it! When will you get the chance again? If it doesn’t work out, you know you tried! Best of luck!  

learn about my crazy head... July 2016, Backpacking Europe, my Journey-of-Self-Discovery Facebook, August 21—Drew posted a photo—  “It’s ok to not have everything figured out”—unknown 

[dreweric]

July 2016, Backpacking Europe, my Journey-of-Self-Discovery

Can I do this; can I learn how to navigate long-term traveling? 

London and Paris in 18 days, this is what I learned…

I arrived in London on July 25th and spent two weeks there. I drove down from Scotland in a rented car with the Gnarly BIGAM Crew. We traveled together for 13 days total, which is an amazingly long time hanging out with travel buddies you just met. Sadly, after three days in London together we all went our separate ways.

After my friends left by train, I moved in, for another week, with a friend I met on the Camino who lives in South London, Peckham Rye.. After London my friend and I headed down to the beach town of Brighton for Gay Pride, the U.K.’s biggest Pride Festival. 

So much learning transpired. Once the travel buddies split apart I was left to find my way as a solo traveler again, although I wasn’t exactly alone. I was technically living with a friend who was working and had existing plans in the works. So my time was still my own, touring days and some evenings and weekends.

I knew it was going to be difficult to make decisions and figure out, without my travel buddies to help me, what to do every day. After the Camino, I only spent about a week alone and that was traveling between four countries. I was on my own in Amsterdam and visited the Van Gogh Museum and Anne Frank house, but when I arrived in Dublin Ireland I had no plan other than a scheduled flight back to the Netherlands two weeks away.

I floundered for a couple of days thinking about how I wanted my adventure to unfold. Am I a sightseer with a list of sights to check off? Do I want to walk around the city and get a feel for it? Do I want to sit in coffee shops, write and people watch? Do I want to meet people and make friends?

I heard about travel buddies from blogs but never imagined what that would be like or how I would  manage that new experience. It was beyond my comprehension since I was so inexperienced in traveling and making quick friends while traveling. Making friends is something I have shied away from with the fear of their NOT being a good fit and then I am stuck with them.

I tried the dating sights and that didn’t seem to attract any sustaining friendships. I looked on Facebook for some groups in Dublin but didn’t have much luck. Then looked at couch surfing and found events section and noticed there was a couch surfing meet-up Thursday. I decided to give that a try.

Prior to attending my first couch surfing event I was pretty confused about what I wanted for my adventure and a little down. On my way to the event, I made a decision to be open to any possibilities that might arise. My theme on this trip is to remain open versus closed to possibilities. It is very easy to shut down and stay safe by doing what I have always done. But bars and dating sites don’t seem to bring me satisfaction.

So when one of the guys at the event asked if anyone was interested in renting a car for the weekend and driving around Ireland for sightseeing, I jumped up and said YES and traveled with 3 other guys. It turned out to be an exceptional trip, so completely thrilling. I learned so much about myself and acquiring travel buddies.

Having travel buddies spoiled me a bit. I thought every event would be like the one in Ireland. I would continue to meet amazing people and make friends and pick up new travel buddies and adventures. This hasn’t always panned out but I will continue to remain open for the possibility.

I visited London and Paris once before and had several of the required sightseeing experiences. So this time, solo, I came with a new perspective. I really wasn’t sure what I wanted out of my adventure.

I did know I wanted to experience London like a local resident. I didn’t want to just run, run, run and see the sights. I wanted to drink coffee and relax a bit. After spending almost every night out in Ireland and Scotland, I was ready for some rest.

When I arrived at my friend’s home I chose to have a more regular schedule. Go to bed before midnight, wake up early and start a regular routine of checking email, going on couch surfing looking for events and figuring out how to travel, meet people and see some sights. Most importantly, I started using public transportation, i.e., subways, busses and trains. England has a multi-use card for all three called the Oyster which made it easy.

I am dyslexic and learning anything new takes twice, if not three times longer than average. One of the symptoms of dyslexia is short term memory retention problems. I have to work really hard at keeping something in my short term memory. For example, verbal directions, phone numbers and people’s names just don’t stick. I have to work hard at name association. I don’t even bother with numbers. Directions I can do really well with a map/visual assistance.

  Facebook, August 15—Christy— 

Sounds like an amazing adventure! And from reading this I now realize I think I have dyslexia memory problems and anxiety too.  You are doing great!!!      

Facebook, August 15—Kitty— 

OMG you sound just like me, say someone’s name and I smile and shake their hand and by the end of the shake I’ve forgotten it. I check and recheck things like stops/directions over and over and over!

  Happily, there is an app for getting around Europe called “Citymapper.” What a great tool. You put in an address, whether it’s a home, business or park and it tells you how many options you have between walking, busses, subways, trains and always the combinations of those you will need to take. Meaning, walk 12 minutes to bus stop bla- bla, ride the bus to subway stop bla-bla, take the subway to this station then exit the station and walk another 12 minutes to your destination. Huge help for someone like me. Love it!

Spending eight days in South London and being forced to use public transportation really helped me get comfortable. I have anxiety when learning anything new. Clearly, I have fears around getting lost, making the wrong choices and, in general, screwing up. Being forced to use public transpiration has now eased the anxiety.

Let me give you an example of a subway experience so you can clearly understand what it is that happens in my mind and why I am so anxious. I put in the address, check it three times (occasionally it takes you to the wrong place). I follow the walking directions to the station. I check continuously I am moving in the right direction (I have had to u-turn). I arrived at the station and have to figure out which line to get in to go the direction I need to go. Yes, I have gotten on the wrong train now several times, but with much less stress.

  Once on the train, I count the stops and look at the app to confirm the first stop. I do this no less than four times because I have forgotten all the information due to  short term memory loss. I feel like Guy Pearce in the movie “Memento” from 2000. He has complete memory loss and has tattoos all over his body to help him figure out the mystery unfolding in his life. Really well done movie but it has not inspired me to start tattooing myself to help me remember things.

So I sit on the train, I can’t remember how many stops I have left so I constantly look at the map, read the stop names outside on the train platform and quadruple check all the details over and over and over again. Eventually I arrive at my destination. I’m not kidding, this is for real, it’s crazy obsessive but the only way I function.

  Facebook, August 15—Karen— 

Traveling is such a great adventure. When I was in Germany I would opt for the bus over the subway. That way my travel app would work & I could see landmarks. Underground I would lose count of the stops. I totally agree you need to count the stops, but that can be tough to do especially at the end of the day when you are tired. Travel safe & have fun.

  The good news is I have been doing it for so long now the stress has subsided and it’s become more routine. If I make a mistake I just go get on the opposite train and do it again. Even when I somehow was on my way home for a short half-hour train ride in London, I somehow managed to get on the wrong train and it cost me an extra hour. It happens, c’est la vie.

  I took my first car share leaving London for Paris through the Chunnel. I was terrified I would miss my ride, not find the driver or any other unforeseen possibilities. It was super high stressful. I showed up 20 minutes early looking for the restaurant, “Nandoos,” where I would meet the driver. I looked and looked without finding it. I called him three times to clarify but he speaks little English and we got disconnected. I text him and sent him a picture of what I look like with my backpacks on, I’m telling you high anxiety.

When he arrived a few minutes early he walked up to me and called my name. Whew, I’m safely with my driver, but I still was getting in a car with three strangers. He went to point out the Restaurant “Nandoos” and realized it was gone, that would make sense why I couldn’t find it. By the way, did I mention I had one hours sleep that morning leaving Brighton Pride?

A little about the night before: I was in Brighton Beach Gay Pride. We enjoyed the Festival all day Saturday. As the evening went into the later hours, I had to choose—take a short nap or just stay up. I choose the short nap, of the 1 hour variety, figuring I could sleep in the car to Paris because my train back to London was early that next morning where I would grab the rest of my belongings. Then find my way to the car share. In other words, I left the house in Brighton at 9 a.m. and arrived in Paris at my hostel at midnight. Luckily the car ride was silent and I slept most of the way, or tried to at least.

I arrived just outside of Paris and was dropped off at a rail station to train into Paris and find my hostel. With the app, I knew I would be ok. However my phone only had 10% battery life when I left London.

A little bit about what I have learned with using phones. You have to conserve your battery as much as possible while traveling. So, endless checks on Facebook have to end. No more checking in on the dating sites, couch surfing sights or any other interesting diversion. You can only use your phone for necessity and you must always carry your cord charger and European plug adapter for emergency charging.

Recently I thought my European plug adapter was faulty because my phone continually wasn’t getting charged to 100%. I have now switched cords and it works fine–faulty cord. That was frustrating. I also bought a battery charger in London for 15 Euros that stopped working. Equally frustrating. Now when I see 10% battery life I think, perfect, that will get me home without a problem. All I have to do is stop endlessly looking at the phone, turn it to airplane mode, and close the apps along with lowering the light. Done!

In Paris I saw someone sitting next to a bus stop with his phone plugged into the bus stop bench. Woo hoo, I found a place to charge my phone if I run out of battery. It’s the little things that make you happy.

As you can see, I rely on my phone for a lot. Without my Citymapp app I would never be able to get around town. I can’t even remember the addresses or names of the places I am staying. I learned to take pictures to help my short term memory. I do have a keen sense of direction though. But still, no phone, no bed and I don’t want to sleep outside.

I learned with my travel buddies, seeing the sights with companions increases the joy in the experience. This is something I accept about myself and I am consciously working on making friends to share experiences. I know it will make for a much better experience and memory when I do.

Every city I land in I go on the couch surfing events page looking for meet-ups. I did so well at my first event in Ireland I wanted to continue looking for meet-ups in order to be around other sightseeing travelers looking for connections. Apparently there is a tribe of tourists traveling around Europe all doing the same things. Looking for connections is my new part time job.

My first couch surfing meeting in London proved to be worth it. I was interested in doing something outside London and wanted to find a buddy for the ride. I met a man my age from New Zealand and asked him if he was interested. We settled on Stonehenge. In just a few moments, while at the restaurant, I Goggled “transportation,” found a cheap tour, and booked a ticket for both of us for the next day. He was a bit surprised and uneasy but after a beer he was all in.

The next day we met and all went off without a hitch. He even paid me for the adventure. Stonehenge was amazingly beautiful and I made a friend on the two hour ride over and back. We had some great conversations and the whole day was fantastic. We are still keeping in touch on Facebook and whatsapp, another communication app that travelers use.

Facebook, August 15—Ray—

You have learned this – trust yourself – in doing so you take chances , but isn’t everything about life chances? The mere fact that we as humans being here on this rocky planet, that has an average star as a companion is a chance, a big chance. Appreciate chances. It’s all we have

Not every couch surfing event is as fruitful. Not all people I meet turn out to be fantastic. We have different views, politics, personalities and opinions. I am learning this is ok. I used to be really fearful of getting mixed up with someone I didn’t want to spend time with. Now I just talk to anyone and I am completely open to them letting the situation unfold and present new opportunities or new learning. Sometimes it works great, sometimes I get stuck with a political opponent. It doesn’t last long and I just roll with it. One thing I have learned is NOT to engage in any negative conversation or try to sway someone’s opinion. That is not why I am talking to them. I am here to make friends and travel buddies. Not convince someone that my opinion is the correct one.

Facebook, August 15—Drew— “Would you rather be right or happy”—A Course In Miracles 

I did realized finally how this traveling thing and making friends thing works. I am completely open to meeting these people for one minute, five minutes, one hour or longer. I am also realizing someone can be a fit for an hour, then, the next hour it takes a turn. This is perfectly fine. At least for the first hour it was fun. That is better than being alone wishing I had someone to talk to.

I also realized and accept that I am not a perfect fit for everyone. I work hard at accepting that. I work hard at not making assumptions about why I might not work for someone. Who cares, in a few minutes I will never see them again. I follow the principles of Miguel Ruiz book “The Four Agreements” religiously, or I try hard.

Be impeccable with your word.

Don’t take anything personal.

Don’t make assumptions.

Always do your best.

I learned when you are making new friends and you think you might like them and want to see them again you go ahead and exchange all the necessary contact information. Whatsapp is first, then Facebook. Once you establish future contact points you start working on what you might want to do in the future.

This could work out or you might not ever see them again. There really is no telling and that’s ok. Sometimes they don’t respond and sometimes your don’t feel like meeting up with anyone and that’s ok. At least you made the effort and for a few bright moments you had something potentially wonderful to look forward to.

Once I was talking to a girl and realized I was being negative. I couldn’t stop. I knew I was tired and I wasn’t at my best for conversation. She eventually struck up a conversation with someone else and so did I. I never saw her again but it was a good learning for me. Sometimes I am not at my best and that’s ok. Sometime later she Whatsapp messaged me asking where in Europe I was. I was happy to hear from her. Apparently I wasn’t as harsh as I thought I was.

My biggest learning at all these events is to keep talking, keep being vulnerable and keep opening up to all the people around me. It is so much more enjoyable then isolating myself with fear of meeting the wrong people or fear of being the wrong person for someone else. I am letting all that go and just opening up on a continuous basis all in an effort to connect with others.

Facebook, August 15—Ralph— 

Everything that happens is happening for you to evolve. Bring those wounds of feeling alone and unsure of where and what to do next, bring them up and sit with them, let them release. Begin to go with the flow – the Universe is for you, not against you.

Drew— I practice that every day

Ralph— Good – I am learning to let go and embrace the powerful person I am – there are no limits. For me it is a long slow process. I am a slow cooker for God, but when it is done and all has marinated together – WOW.

Drew— Yay, for me it was fast fast, fast on the Camino. Now even faster

Ralph B.— I’m a crock pot for God. No microwave for me. I’m a slow cooker. Sounds like I have a hit song brewing in me today. “Jesus crank up the crock pot.”

Ralph— Yea – you are kind of a fast food guy. But we can’t always be in the drive thru. Sometimes we have the need to be in the slow lane. I am in New York City next week. Will experience first-hand trying to navigate unknown territory. It all happens outside your comfort zone, right? That is where you really are alive. This is my first baby step in preparation for next summer in Europe.

One of my favorite moments is when a conversation really hits home with someone. I can tell because I start telling my story, about my book, my life, the Camino and or all the above. I see a shift in their attention with me. They slightly adjust their posture towards me and I notice a subtle deeper interest in me and my story. Several more minutes in and I get the question, I want your Facebook information so I can follow you.

WOW! This has happened several times now. I love it when it does. It usually follows with them having to leave or my having to leave and never seeing each other again. In just a few minutes, I managed to deeply connect with someone to the point where they want to follow my life even knowing we might never meet again. I am open to this. I want more of this. It’s way cool.

I met a young man recently at a couch surfing host home. I was a little uncomfortable with the host and wasn’t really sure how to feel or what to do. The young man said loud and clear something I will always remember on this adventure through Europe, “It’s all a part of the adventure.” He is right.

I won’t let the stress of forgetting everything while moving from place to place ruin my adventure. I just left Paris and I feel like a public transportation master now. I am on my way to Brussels for a couple of days to learn a new transportation system. Then off to Germany to learn theirs, and so on and so on.

I still have no solid plans on this journey. I do know one thing; each forward step leads me to a future that will create a foundation supporting me for the rest of my life.

Looks like I can navigate long-term traveling.

London and Paris in 18 days, this is what I learned… July 2016, Backpacking Europe, my Journey-of-Self-Discovery Can I do this; can I learn how to navigate long-term traveling? 

[dreweric]

July 2016, Backpacking Europe on my Journey-of-Self-Discovery

Can I do this, can I surrender to the will of the Universe? 

What is BIGAM? 

  Facebook, July 12—Drew— 

When the need to control takes grip, hold up your hands, open your fingers and surrender all. Peace will quickly find you.—Drew Eric

Facebook, July 12—Drew added new photos in Dublin, Ireland— 

Ok I made it safely. Once I got off the bus an overwhelming calm came over me, very surprising. I still didn’t have a place to sleep, I do now. I am here for two weeks. I really need to relax, everything has been moving so fast. I haven’t felt stable, grounded in a week. The last two days were amazing though—my host family in Amsterdam was incredible. I am so looking forward to not doing anything for a couple days. My hostel is a shared room with ten people—an improvement from 50 people on the Camino.

–Kitty— Whoot! An Irish blessing for you! —

May you always have walls for the winds,

a roof for the rain, tea beside the fire,

laughter to cheer you, those you love near you,

and all your heart might desire. 

Facebook, July 12—Drew— 

Comfort food then a comfort beer. Garlic cheese fries. I’m in heaven. 

–Pedro— You gonna gain some pounds. Who cares! Not regrets man! Lol

Facebook, July 14—Drew added new photos at O’Connell Bridge— 

Taking a walking tour.

–Peter— It’s about time you got some exercise.

–Drew— Right, 500 miles wasn’t enough.

Facebook, July 14—Drew— 

I arrived on Tuesday and found a hostel. Wasn’t crazy about it and left the hostel the next day. I spent some time looking on couchsurfing.com for a place to stay. Finally I was offered a place for the weekend, which is nice since the beds at the hostel go up in cost over the weekend. I have someone offering me a room on Sunday also, if that pans out. Finding cheap lodging is a full time job. I like the hostel where I am now. It’s clean, nice and I can use the kitchen—which cuts costs on eating out. Tomorrow I check out of this hostel with my 50 lbs backpacks and hopefully get a bus or something to the new couch surfing host. Wish me luck.

–Christopher— You’ll be fine for sure…always go with your gut.

–Drew— The Sunday room did not pan out.

–Sherry posted a photo— Stress makes you believe everything has to happen right now. Faith reassures you that everything will happen in god’s timing. 

  I flew into Ireland three days ago and took a well needed vacation from my vacation. I know, it sounds crazy but yes, I needed to ground myself and get centered after two flights and four countries, in four days. Moving so fast does that to me. Now that I have rested, I’m finding myself curious how the rest of my journey will unfold. I am just off the Camino where traveling was easy. Basically there was no thinking involved. Everything was laid out for me—food, lodging, sights to see and a constant flow of people to meet. Everyday I would walk with someone who could be a potential new best friend.

However I am not on the Camino anymore and I am observing that life in the real world isn’t as easy as it was while on the pilgrimage. I walked for 32 days figuring out how the whole thing works, how to live in the flow of the Camino. Now I have to learn how to navigate Europe and let the Universe guide me in whatever direction it sees fit. The act of surrendering has proven to work for me. I learned this from “A Course In Miracles” and whether at home or here on this trip, I do not know what’s best for my personal growth but the Universe/God/Holy Spirit/Destiny does, if I let It.

About midway through my pilgrimage, I observed my own fight against the Camino. It became apparent, I must surrender to what the Camino (Universe) wanted for me versus what I wanted from the Camino. This transpired right out of the medieval gate at Saint Jean Pied de Port when I met the young man who would so significantly impact my life. My heart was closed after my divorce and meeting him opened my heart to me and with everyone I came in contact. I feel in love with me and by doing so this allowed me to love others.

Living in the flow of the Camino, I observed, was a struggle for many others on the pilgrimage as well. People who were fighting the Camino had injuries, illnesses, all kinds of blocks preventing them from achieving their selected goals, i.e. finishing the Camino by a certain date, walking at a certain pace, finding peace.

Eventually, after surrendering, I learned how to live in the flow while walking my path. I recited a mantra from “A Course in Miracles” every day in an effort to open myself to all the Universe has to offer.

Universe,

Where would you have me go?

What would you have me do?

What would you have me say and to whom? —ACIM

The Universe provided for me life lessons beyond my imagination. I came on this journey to open up, to grow and learn. I intuitively knew this trip was exactly what I needed to kick start my life after the divorce in early 2015. So far, just over six weeks, the personal growth and self reflection has been deep and powerful along with unsettling and difficult, as most lessons are.

By reciting my mantra often throughout the days of my path, I consciously chose to be open and accepting of the flow, the unknown—all while feeling confident the Universe will bring to me exactly what I need to be my best Self and have the most amazing life altering pilgrimage. Where will I walk? Oh the sights I saw were breathtaking from the mountains to the valleys. Who will I meet and share with? I made some beautiful friendships, and ended some new acquaintances. What new experiences and growth will I have today? More then I bargained for and it was completely worth it.

Now that the Camino is in the past, I don’t want to lose that new found excitement of living in the flow and surrendering to the unknown. I learned when I want or need something, all I have to do is ask the Universe and it will be provided, Flow. Every time I tested this theory it proved accurate. What I noticed, all I have to do is get still, observe where I am closed down, open myself up and ask for possibility. Sometimes I am more specific and while other times I am more vague, not limiting what the Universe wants for me since the Universe knows best.

I have been enjoying some alone time this past week through my fast moving travels. It was greatly needed after my intense experience in Spain. It’s easy to get some quiet time for self reflection while moving around so quickly from Santiago Spain, Lisbon Portugal, Amsterdam Netherlands, and finally landing in Dublin Ireland in just four days.

However, now that I feel more grounded and centered, I’m noticing I have begun to feel isolated. I am longing for my Band-of-Brothers and the amazing time we shared when our paths crossed. It felt amazing to be “One of the guys” since I never felt that way growing up. Being a sexually confused young man I tended to shy away from other boys in fear of being seen as potentially gay since I was so unsure myself. With my Band-of-Brothers I was just another guy, not the gay guy, just a dude.

That morning I began to wonder what I was doing to limit myself and just how am I living outside the Flow. So I decided to get still, present and ask the Universe for help.

I am a social person by nature and I accept my need to meet and make some friends along the way. I read blogs about meeting travel buddies, although I couldn’t envision the concept, I am open to the experience. My plan is to backpack Europe for several more months, seeing as much as I can, meeting new people, make some lifelong friends and memories. How will I do all this with my social anxieties, can you see my confusion?

  Facebook, July 14—Drew— 

I am getting some helpful advice how to meet people while traveling. Hang out in the common room of hostels. Go to meet-up groups, do walking tours, do bus tours. All good advice I will put into action. 

  Through my research I found couchsurfing.com to be very helpful. The website has a social component with a calendar where you can look up events in whatever city you find yourself. Here in Dublin, low and behold, there is a meet-up at an Irish Pub this evening. On the way to the meet-up I recited my mantra “I am open for all possibilities”. I decided if anyone ask me to do anything, I am going to say “Yes.” I will not be crippled with fear and social anxiety, I will remain “open to all possibilities” and surrender to the flow. The Universe knows best.

Once I entered the pub and located the meet-up, I ordered a beer and found myself next to a friendly English bloke. We spent some time chatting over our Guinness, I could feel my social anxiety loosening it’s grip on me.

Eventually our conversation waned and we joined the rest of the travelers and locals at the meet-up. A short time later, I was in the middle of conversing with a young couple when my new English friend found me and shared what he just heard.

“Hey, another traveler inquired if anyone was interested in renting a car and exploring Ireland over the weekend, what do you think?” he asked with a tentative, uneasy look on his face.

This was my chance, insert mantra here: I am open to all possibilities, don’t say no.

“Yes!” I replied emphatically.

As it turns out, the Brit, I and three other guys showed interest and, like the Guinness in my glass, a plan began to bubble to the top. After a few minutes of conversation we decided to form a Whatsapp group (a texting and calling application that uses Wi-Fi) and make some plans for the following day. I left the meet-up feeling a little excited and anxious at the same time about a possible car share over the weekend with four strangers. If I live in the Flow, what can go wrong?

The next day we gathering at a hip place called Library Bar. It had the feel and appearance of a 200 year old, private smoking club. It’s described online as “Plush embroidered armchairs, open fires and leather sofas dot the inside of this calming hotel bar.”

We jumped right in with the planning and getting to know each other. After a very few minutes we were laughing loud and enjoying each other’s company. I was thinking, “This could work, still nervous, but this could work.”

  Facebook, July 15—Drew with 4 others at Library Bar in Dublin, Ireland— 

Ok, here I go again, my life is so cool. Last night I met four guys at a meet-up for couch surfers, host and travelers. One of the travelers suggested renting a car on Saturday and driving to Cork. All five of us said yes, what the hell.

Joe— I have driven all over Ireland, watch out for livestock!

Laurie— Oh Dear! Good Luck. You are making me nervous.

Drew— lol, don’t take on my anxiety you have enough of your own. Isn’t this crazy. I was actually feeling sad and concerned about not meeting people on my new adventure. Now I’m on a road trip with 4 strangers.

Ron— It all sounds perfect! You guys are displaying how the world wants to be in community together. So sweet to see the progress of your journey!!!

Jenna— That is what traveling and being in Europe is all about. If only more people would leave this country and open their hearts and minds to people from other places and new experiences we’d have a lot more love and tolerance in the world. Or here. Enjoy every second my friend xx

Ronald— I agree with what Jenna said

  I spent the last month on the Camino making friends and learning how to travel with them. I felt this prepared me for a new bunch of men. I saw the Brit, typing something on his phone, then he chuckle, hand his phone around everyone did some laughs, then it reached me. The Brit wrote a post for Facebook wanted my approval. I read it.

  Facebook, July 15—The Brit— 

The gnarly crew, A Brit, a Mexican, a Homosexual, an American and an Italian (he’s in the boot) in a VW all around Ireland. What could go WRONG!

  I laughed out loud and thought how wonderful it was he could make such a joke not knowing how I would react as the “Homosexual”. Clearly his view on me was as just another guy. I told him I loved it and thought to myself, “This weekend is going to be good, I can feel it.” Maybe I can live in the Flow, off the Camino, maybe I just need to surrender and see where this car ride takes me. As the Brit’s famous last words said, “What can go wrong?”

Not all of us were there at the Library Bar, the Italian from the meet-up was at work and wasn’t able to make it to the planning meeting. Unfortunately this meant he was a bit more vulnerable to our jokes. We couldn’t exactly remember his name and started calling him Fellatio (Google it), his name is Feliciano, you can see the similarity. We couldn’t stop laughing each time we said Fellatio and we weren’t even drunk, yet. This was the closest I felt to being with a new Band-of-Brothers, and I liked it.

The Brit fancied a name to call our group. This made sense to me since I named my last group of guys the Band-of-Brothers. We started throwing around letters seeing if we could create an acronym. We had a British guy, a Mexican, two Americans, 1 gay guy and an Italian. We ended up choosing “British, Italian, Gay, American, Mexican or BIGAM” and the Brit coined “The Gnarly BIGAM Crew” as our official name. They were all under the age of 27 with my being the oldest at 48, so yes, I was thinking this is crazy and I surrender.

It was time to head over to the rental car. “Are we really doing this”? I thought.

When we arrived it was just before closing time. There weren’t many cars and getting the cheaper rate seemed to be out the window. After discussing it with the rental company and amongst “The Gnarly BIGAM Crew” we decide it was just too expensive. The manager overheard our discussion and chose this time to offer us a deal just to get us in a rental so they could close.

My mind exploded with, “Whoop, whoop, we have a rental car, living in the Flow! What can go wrong, we are The Gnarly BIGAM Crew”! I had possible plans this weekend with a couch surfer host, but nothing committed. I am making a conscious decision to see this through, wherever the car takes us. The only solid plan I have for the next week and a half is a return flight to Amsterdam. Let’s see where this goes first before I make any further commitments. Hell, I could be in an Ireland prison before the week is out. 🙂

  Facebook, July 15—Drew with 4 others— 

Today we have rented the car till Monday morning. We will start the road trip tomorrow. We are planning on visiting six cities in two days. So to recap, five strangers, an Italian, Brit, Mexican, and two Americans that don’t know each other will be driving through three cities on Saturday, doing an overnight somewhere and three cities on Sunday then arrive back in Dublin, completing a circle around Southern Ireland. What can go wrong!

  We went out that night for some “getting to know each other” quality time prior to our full-on adventure the following day. I was still a little nervous with my new mates, but I didn’t focus on my nervousness. After an evening of fun and jokes I chose to head back to my hostel early as to get a good night sleep, early meaning midnight. I believe the rest of The Gnarly BIGAM Crew, stayed out late, or early in the morning, whichever way you look at it.

As morning arises, I receive a message and make it down to the car for them to pick me up. I then found out about the adventure they had to send a message to me. They had to tailgate a public bus to access the bus’s Wi-Fi in order to send me the message. They recounted a hilarious story about their working hard to not hit the bus while keeping their Wi-Fi connection.

I feel that we’re off to a good start. It’s only been 24 hours and already jokes and memories abound. Ireland better watch out, The Gnarly BIGAM Crew is touring a town near you.

When we were at the rental car place I spoke with one of the agents inquiring where in Ireland we should do some sightseeing. She gave us some recommendations and a direction to drive, looping around Southern Ireland from Dublin, on the East, heading south, then crossing west, driving up the West coast until we circle back to Dublin in two days.

Let me remind you that Ireland drives on the wrong side of the road. The two Americans are the designated drivers, which is funny since the person used to driving on the “wrong side of the road” was the Brit and he is 24, too young to drive a rental car.

We five strangers worked together in an effort not to get killed while driving around Ireland—hilarious. The four of us are working in tandem as backseat drivers, with different responsibilities in order to keep us on the road and safe i.e. staying in the left lane, where to look when turning right, left and keeping an eye out for red lights and stop signs. There are so many things to see and watch out for while you’re driving on the wrong side of the car and the road.

  Facebook, July 16—Drew added new photos at Abbey HSE with 4 others— 

Checking out the sights. 

Ann— Finally you look at peace… You have made an awesome change. Don’t let anything bother you when you return. Remember where you’ve been, how you got there, and where you are now. You did this! And it worked… Be safe my friend. You look fabulous… You are a long cry from a break up… Whether you see it or not…

  We made our first stop at the ruins of a monastery. Our first group outing included a tour in a beautiful setting. We took pictures, made jokes and generally poked at each other like school kids on a field trip. “Classic”, became our go to phrase when referring to any one of us. As if we knew what “classic Drew” really is or what “classic Mexican” really means, since we only met two days ago.

  Facebook, July 16—Drew checked in to Kilkenny Castle with 4 others— 

We have made it in one piece. The American drove first with the Brit giving directions. Next up Drew the American driving with the Italian giving directions. We are eating lunch, seeing the castle, walking the town a bit till we head to Cork with me at the wheel, God help us all.

Facebook, July 16—Drew, eating fish and chips at Dinos Kinsale with 4 others— 

We got the grilled fish and garlic cheese chips. Along with curry chips and battered sausage. Yummm!

Facebook, July 16—Drew, with 4 others in Kinsale— 

Should I be driving on the wrong side of the road? Oh goodness. The 

Gnarly BIGAM Crew made it to Kinsale. I am still driving poorly and they are nervous and they are making me nervous.

  Continuing on our road trip, we enjoyed a lunch of “Fish & Chips”  at a small fishing village, strolled through a shopping town named Cork, then on to our final destination, Tralee, where we will spend the night. We choose a hostel—only one available—and it has less then desirable ratings online. We are actually excited for the adventure this poor rated hostel would deliver.

  Facebook, July 16—Drew with 4 others— 

Back in the car! Hoping we make it to the hostel before it closes and we get a bed to sleep in.

  Once we arrived, the host recommends we stay as a group with several other guests in a big room, leaving no empty beds. We inquired about a room of our own since there were five of us and she informed us that we don’t want to share a room with the other two men in the only other room available.

She stated, “They’re a bit dodgy, and for your safety, I wouldn’t recommend it”.

  Facebook, July 16—Drew, was drinking beer at Roundy’s Bar with 4 others—  

The Gnarly BIGAM Crew made it to Tralee and checked into our hostel. All is well but one of the bunks looks a little dodgy, not mine though. It’s the Brit’s; hopefully he doesn’t get crushed in the bunk bed while he sleeps.

Shannon— Dodgy, eh? Yep, you’re definitely hanging around a Brit!

  We took her advice. When we ran into them later that night her suspicions were confirmed. One had a black eye and both looked a bit, ruff, quick darting eyes and a walking pace with purpose.

With the Brit’s bunk bed concerns, he chose to pull the mattress on the floor rather than lose his life in a bunk bed mishap in Tralee. He chose wisely.

It was Saturday night and “The Gnarly BIGAM Crew” decided to see what kind of nightlife is to be had in Tralee. I was a mix of nervousness and excitement since I didn’t want to stay out too late and feel hung-over on our second day of the road trip. I also didn’t want to abandon my new crew so off we went into the night in search of a happening place where they have girls (for them) and Guinness for all of us.

Wow, is all I have to say about Tralee. These Irish folks like to DRINK. I saw quite a few passed out drunk, throwing up, dressed up, partiers out on the town. I was concerned for my safety while at the same time found comfort knowing I had a crew that had my back, just in case this evening goes awry.

While out, we had some beers and the boys attempted to flirt with girls, possibly dance with them and attempted wing-men services for each other. This became our pattern, drink, be a wingman, try to meet girls and flirt. I was the only odd man out since very few men in these pubs were interested in other men, but that was ok with me, I am here for the ride and excitement it will bring.

After midnight we called it and headed back to the hostel, laughing, recounting the girls they flirted with and making plans for the next day. We decided to get up early and visit the “Ring of Kerry”. The Ring of Kerry is a scenic drive around the Iveragh Peninsula in Southwest Ireland. It’s a 179km-long, circular route that takes in the rocky coastal landscapes and rural seaside villages.

  Facebook, July 17—Drew added new photos— 

On the way to Kerry and skellig Ring, stopping for a quick photo op.

  The Ring of Kerry included a short ferry ride on one side of the ring, giving us an opportunity to take the rental on an ocean voyage. Eventually we find our way back to town for lunch then on the road again. Next stop is “The Cliffs of Moher” which is a mountainous cliff edge jutting 214 meters (720 feet) above the Atlantic Ocean. We will experience spectacular views of the cliffs and hopefully see the ocean splashing at the shoreline many frightening feet below.

Once back in the car a magical thing happened. The other American “A” of BIGAM asked some in-depth questions that gave us a chance to get to know each other on a more personal level. We have been together a little over 2 days and with these new insights, a shift happened, so subtle we didn’t even notice. However it had a huge impact on the rest of our road trip. Closeness was formed, a deeper bond, a connectedness that felt more spiritual in nature. My anxiety almost completely disappeared and I now saw these guys as true mates. We all felt the same way it seemed.

The American could have easily been the G in BIGAM because his family is from Guatemala.  However I got the G for Gay so he was dubbed the American. He is a kind man, super easy going. He is a little shorter, more of the Latin type, tan with dark hair and a warm smile—good-looking guy. He has an interesting way about speaking that is calming, direct with little expression. He almost speaks in a monotone with little to no fluctuation. It’s interesting to watch him talk since I tend to be more animated with my expressions and personality. He makes you feel relaxed in his presence he is so easy.

His best friend is gay and he and another girlfriend are meeting up with him in France for a couple weeks. He describes himself as being extremely comfortable with his sexuality, so comfortable in fact he has no problem cuddling with his best friend. He even shares his bed at home when they have a sleep over after a night out on the town. Hearing this surprises me since I haven’t met many men in my life so comfortable with themselves. It’s refreshing. Clearly he is a kind, warm, friendly man and I enjoy his company immensely.

The Brit: Is dirty blond, with greenish eyes and a real charming smile. He has fair skin, probably easy to burn in the sun. He kinda has this devilish grin that draws you in. Super sweet guy however in typical British fashion, I would say he isn’t as comfortable with the touch of a man—which, of course, encourages me to attempt to push those British buttons. He is always up for the adventure, willing to go anywhere and do anything. He is super friendly and easy to get along with. I would probably say he is the most reserved of us all, proper even, again, in typical British fashion. Still, a very likable guy.

The Italian: Is attractive with thinning hair and a very typical Roman nose, appropriate since he was born just outside of Rome. When he speaks he can’t quite pronounce his R’s so when he says Rome it sounds more like Woooome leaving out the R all together. I believe he doesn’t quite understand everything we are saying, especially if we are talking fast. Back in Wome, he lives with a girlfriend. He is temporarily working in Ireland at the moment and will be back in Wome when the summer is over. I find him attractive honestly. Maybe it’s the Mediterranean thing he has going on and his adorable smile. He exudes a warm friendly feeling that is comforting.

The Mexican: He is the quirkiest of us all. He is thin with long limbs and loves to dance around at a bar being unusual and fun. His English is good; I even forget his first language is Spanish. He has a brother who is gay and has no issue being physical with me or any of us. That is a quality I like most in the men I am meeting on the road. He is full of expression, moving around and using his whole body to talk. He even came up with a calling card when he wanted to find us. Cocoo, Cocoo, he would call like a bird searching for his mate.

When we arrived at the Cliffs, the fog had rolled in. The rangers said the parking lot for the Cliffs is closed due to the fog. We could drive up but there is nothing to see. Earlier at lunch the cashier recommended a private viewing spot just down the road from the parking area. She said it was private land, with a path running down the fence line to the Cliffs and is great viewing, very popular. We decided to give it a try. Amazingly, we actually found the location.

It was mid-day, gloomy with fog, not able to see but a few feet ahead. The path was wet from dew and rain with a mud trail running up the middle. We did our best to follow the path, trying not to step in the mud; however the grass gave way to large puddles. I eventually stepped directly in the mud ruining my H&M tennis shoes. Fortunately they were only seven Euros.

As we moved down the damp path through the horse pasture towards what we hoped—but didn’t want to fall over—were the Cliffs of Moher. We felt like trespassers walking towards our doom. Then, out of nowhere, we could hear the sounds of waves crashing on the shore and knew we were edging close to the cliffs and sea far below. I had visions of one of us dying on this very day. I could picture the breaking news article, “One member of “The Gnarly BIGAM Crew” fell to his death on a road trip to the Cliffs of Moher, due to deep fog, full story at 11:00”. All I could hear in my head was the Brit saying “What could go wrong?” which is a clear indicator that the shit is about to hit the fan.

Luckily we could see the cliffs edge. It was even better than expected. We spent almost an hour playing on the cliff, taking selfies, hanging over the cliffs edge and pretending to be Superman. There we were, standing as if we are on the actual cliff edge when there was a safe distance from it—all for the photo op.

There was no other human around; we were all alone on this private scenic cliff edge. It made for a special surreal feel and was the highlight of our road trip. Because of the personal sharing that morning in the car, I believe the Cliffs of Moher were that much more enjoyable.

  Facebook, July 17—Drew added new photos with 4 others— 

The Gnarly BIGAM Crew had an amazing road trip. Here are the photos. I love these guys, so much fun.

Summer— Dang, does the sun ever shine in Ireland lol?

Drew— Every other day, LOL.

  Once back to the car we made the long drive back to Dublin getting in that evening with plans to drop the car off the following morning. The Italian invited us over to his apartment for a final get together, farewell dinner of sorts. It would be our last time as the full Gnarly BIGAM Crew. Of course he cooked spaghetti and I brought the wine.

  Facebook, July 18—Drew, with the American and 3 others— 

The Gnarly BIGAM crew is having dinner at the Italian’s home. This is the life. You make friends and they invite you for an Italian dinner at home. We took the train to get here, it’s our Last night together. I will miss you all. Starting with the Italian since we are leaving him in Dublin. Good men, fun times.

  Over dinner we discussed our traveling plans and as it turned out, three of us are on longterm adventures. My backpacking experience has no end in sight, I do have a flight back to Amsterdam but no plans after that. The other American has another month while the Mexican also has no plans on returning home in the immediate future. The Brit has a flight back to London in a couple days and the Italian is remaining in Dublin with work.

Hmmm, maybe this doesn’t have to end in Dublin. Three of us hatched a plan to train up to Belfast, Northern Ireland and spend a day or two, ferry over to Scotland where we can catch a bus to Edinburgh. Stay in Scotland a few days then who knows, maybe head down to London from there to visit the Brit.

The Brit was even interested and said he would check flights to Edinburgh from London. Amazing, not only did I meet some great guys to drive around Ireland with, I also met some travel buddies who would go country hopping. My dreams are coming true. I now have a clear vision on how to meet travel buddies and make lifelong friends. Thank god I surrendered and went with he flow regardless of anxiety and fear.

  Facebook, July 19—Drew, with the American— 

BIGAM has mostly disbanded. It’s just GA right now. The two Americans are off to Northern Ireland, (Belfast) for an overnight then a ferry to Scotland. We shall be traveling together for the next week making our way down to London. However BAGM will be back together Friday in Edinburgh Scotland for the weekend. What can go wrong?

Beverley— what an adventure you are having!

Facebook, July 19—Drew checked in at Hostelling International N.I/Y.H.A Northern Ireland— 

  A little bit about Belfast—In the ‘80s there was the Catholic—Ireland, Protestants—Northern Ireland conflict. In Northern Ireland they are the descendants of 500 years of Protestants from England and Scotland with fewer Catholics, while Ireland is predominately Catholic. These two conflicted religious and culturally different areas struggled with the English rule and the country has been split since 1921. Ireland wants their land back from English domination and rule, while Northern Ireland has English roots and feels more tied to England. The English suppressed the Catholics with discrimination and regulations. Many years of bombings and fighting neighbor-against-neighbor ensued and the IRA (The Irish Republican Army) is blamed for more than 1700 deaths between 1969 and 1993. I had wondered what kind of condition I would be seeing when we arrived. To my surprise, Belfast was new and shiny with new buildings and shopping districts all around.

  Facebook, July 20—Drew, Drinking beers with the American at Morrisons Lounge Bar—

Hanging on our last day in Northern Ireland. Tomorrow we ferry over to Scotland, bus and train to get to Edinburgh and meet up with the Brit. Thursday to Sunday the three of us will be together. Sunday, the American and I are renting a car in Edinburgh, dropping the Brit at the airport, then driving a stick shift to London where we will stay together till Tuesday. The American will head to France and I will stay in England for a while to burn up some time out of the EU visa treaty. I made some friends on the Camino I plan on seeing in London and can’t wait. I read a blog once about meeting people and joining with them as travel buddies. I couldn’t imagine this for myself since I have struggled for so long with sustaining friendships. I have grown so much in the last two months that I was able to create this reality for myself. I have made some great friends and will have known them for 13 days and have been with the American continuously. Life is great. Bonds can be made over drinking a Guinness.

The Brit— Sweeeeeet! And thanks in advance for the lift to the airport, nice surprise!

Joe— Guinness !!!  ❤ THE Breakfast of Champions!

Facebook, July 19—Drew with the American at Titanic Museum, Belfast, Northern Ireland— 

Checking out the exhibit. This is how we roll in Belfast.

  After a restful couple days and a visit to the Titanic Museum—Titanic was built in Belfast—we caught the ferry to Scotland where we will rejoin the Brit and the Mexican for a few fun filled days in Edinburgh, Scotland. I can only hope the joy and excitement continues once we gather back together.

  Facebook, July 21—Drew is with the American, at Setlla Line, Belfast Docks— 

I am on my way to Scotland on a ferry. It’s like a small cruise ship. Really upgraded and nice. Life is so cool when you live it. 

  Recently I found out my Father is 67% Scottish making me somewhat—insert unknown % here— Scottish. I haven’t done my genealogy yet but I am very much interested. My excitement level is unusually high. I hadn’t realized how much I truly wanted to visit Scotland. I really had no concrete plans for my trip and wasn’t sure if or when I would visit. Now that I am on the ferry I am so looking forward to arriving. Just for this occasion I wore my kilt that I have been lugging around in my backpack since I left America. It weighs five lbs so I better get good use out of it. What comes to mind is the movie “Highlander” released in 1986. The beautiful countryside and landscapes were breathtaking. I saw it with my mom all those years ago. I have this Moorish ancient city fantasy in my head, with no real clear image of what to expect. This is all new to me, can’t wait.

  Facebook, July 21—Drew added new photos with the American at Stena Line, Belfast Docks— 

Ferry to Scotland-check, bus to the train station-check, first of 2 trains to Edinburgh-check. We are that much closer to Edinburgh. Funny thing happened on the windy deck. I gotta be more careful with my kilt. 

  What beautiful countryside we saw while riding the trains into Edinburgh. The American was staying at a different hostel; the rates were cheaper at mine however they only had one bed available. I dropped him off at his hostel then walked past the Edinburgh Playhouse in the direction of mine, which took me to the North Bridge with a spectacular view of the Edinburgh Castle in the distance. It was breathtaking. I felt like I was home. Ahead of me was a building with a sign on it that said, “The Scotsman”. I used it as a backdrop for a selfie and you can see the excitement of homecoming on my face.

  Facebook, July 21—Drew checked in at Cowgate Tourist Hostel, Edinburgh— 

I am loving Scotland. It is beautiful. Breathtakingly beautiful. 

Tammy— This was the best decision to take this trip. What amazing experiences you are having.

  It was still pretty early in the day which gave us enough time to do some sightseeing. The American and I visited the castle. Unbelievable views of Scotland can be seen from all around, rolling hills with the river in the distance and the city down below.

That day the Brit arrived making us a threesome again joining the American and me. We spent some time out, just us boys, looking for beers and girls for them to talk to. We ended up in a cool bar with a live band. I have to say, it felt pretty good to be with some 20-somethings out on the town drinking beers and being all normal. Something I didn’t get to do in my 20s so much as just another guy. Here I am doing it for the second time on my journey, thanks Universe.

Funny thing happened while we were out. My mates started keeping an eye out for guys for me to meet. They have been wing-manning for each other since we have been hanging out and on this night they started searching for me. I felt so honored to be included equally with the guys. I never thought young straight guys would be so comfortable around gay men. It never crossed my mind but here we were and they were treating me like anyone else, I was just looking for the same gender not the opposite.

As the night progressed they showed me a couple guys as they were chatting up the girls. That’s when it happened; a young man started talking up the Brit. It was innocent at first then he came back around working a closer angle. Just like these guys had been trying to do with the girls.

The young man said to the Brit “Hey, it’s cool, the whole gay thing is cool, no big deal to me”.

My friend, thinking he was speaking about me, agreed with him and kept on dancing.

The young man circled back again, this time asking how long we had been a couple, referring to the Brit and myself. My friend was like “No, wait, we aren’t a couple, I’m not gay”.

The young man nodded and took his empty glass back to the bar for another. When he returned he chose to get a bit closer this time. He spoke to me, asking if his talking to my friend made me jealous. He spoke to my friend again saying he wanted to make me jealous and my friend was getting a bit nervous at this point. This was all getting weird now.

At one point I had to step between them on the dance floor to save the Brit from this drunk Scottish guy making a move. Since I have no experience in straight bars or mixed bars I was very confused thinking, “Does this happen all the time? Do straight guys go Bi and hit on other guys in bars after a few drinks? I’m intrigued. Is this what I have been missing all these years?”

After I squeezed in, the young man proceeded to get further hammered and wouldn’t leave my friend alone. He got so confused about who he was and where he was, he tried reaching around me to grab my friend like a possession or a toy he wanted to keep for himself. This really crossed the line and was pretty funny at the same time, at least to me.

  Facebook, July 22—Drew with the American and the Brit at The Standing Order, Edinburgh (Wetherspoon)—

Having breakfast/lunch/beer, with me mates. First full day in Scotland, out till 3 a.m. and up at 12:45 p.m. This is the life baby. I’m living it. One of the boys, so much fun.

  In my hostel are a couple of guests, a sweet redhead from America—another American— and an Italian. The Italian was well worked out, muscled and good looking so I was more than happy to invite them both out for the evening. Being a wing-man, my work is never done. Here is a lovely Irish looking American girl, any one of my mates will gladly sweep off her feet. Also, the beds have unusual names like climax and cuddle, what kind of message are they sending I wonder?

The Brit once lived in Edinburg and works at a local shoe store. He mentioned his friends were heading out later and meeting up at a jazz club. But first let’s visit the one bar that’s open now.

  Facebook, July 22—Drew— 

Nightlife in Scotland. Funny thing, only bar open late is a Latin bar with salsa dancing, it feels like being back in Miami. Only in Scotland. We met some new friends in my hostel. An Italian and American and brought them out.

  We left the Latin bar venturing out to meet his friends. My buds pull me aside and told me they want to take me to a gay bar tomorrow. It’s time we are wing-men for you. I was flattered at the kindness and told them I am having a great time just watching you all.

  Facebook, July 22—Drew shared Positive Energy’s quote—

“A couple years from now, everything you’re stressing about won’t even matter. Keep moving forward”  —Last year I had so much stress, I don’t even remember. I wonder what I will be thinking in a year from now 🙂

  Our next local Scottish hotspot on the tour is a Jazz club that was rocking with a full live band, trumpets and all. They were playing Latin Jazz, whatever that means.

  Encyclopedia Britannica: Latin jazz, also called Afro-Cuban jazz, a style of music that blends rhythms and percussion instruments of Cuba and the Spanish Caribbean with jazz and its fusion of European and African musical elements.

Facebook, July 22—Drew checked in at The Jazz Bar in Edinburgh, Scotland— 

Wow, is this really happening? Am I really doing this? Is this really my life? Why yes, yes this is your life, your life is this cool, Latin Jazz cool! 

  It was one of the more surreal moments of my trip. Have you ever been somewhere doing something and thought to yourself is this real?

The energy was electrifying. The place was packed and you could feel the excitement in the air. The passion behind the instruments was strong, loud, and captivating. I just stood around looking and watching the band and the crowd with awe and excitement.

I noticed in the crowd a tall, very young, attractive man. He appears to be about 20 years old. I am not entirely sure what the drinking age is in Scotland. People are dancing and swaying, it is amazing how packed it is in here. I couldn’t see an inch between the people but yet everyone is having a good time, dancing and bumping each other—plain old rubbing each other—such heat, such percussion.

The boy looked up and caught my eye, we locked eyes for a second and I looked away towards my friends. Joining them I shared my excitement on how this place is making me feel. I shared with the Brits friends—some girls he used to work with—how I met everyone and the crazy time we had in Ireland. My mates were off flirting or talking or doing something, I don’t really know.

They asked if I found anyone interesting and I replied. “Oh, I’m gay and I couldn’t imagine anyone here also being gay, I’m great just having fun with all you guys”. With that I walked back over to the dance floor observing the crowd.

I noticed the young man again and he was somewhat near the middle of the dance floor, kind of swaying, kind of not moving much.  I was standing just one step up on a platform near the dancing directly in front of the band. He looked up and caught my eye again. This time I didn’t look away. The dance floor opened up a bit around him and time stood still. What happened next was very unexpected. It was like in a movie when the dance floor opens up, the crowd pulls back, the music softens and the only people that are in the spotlight are the two main characters. He looked up at me, starred deeply into my eye and before I had a chance to do anything he stepped forward, grabbed my arms and pulled me into him and onto the dance floor quickly wrapping me into an embrace of tangled salsa dancing. WHAT THE F*CK JUST HAPPENED?

“Ok,” I think, “This is happening. There is an adorable young man in my arms.”

Surreal didn’t begin to explain what was happening—confusion, dismay, shock and fear.  I immediately start scanning the room to get an idea how the crowded bar is handling two men salsa dancing in such an intimate way. No one seems to be bothered. I glance up to my shocked friends and they smile with thumbs up. So I return my brain to the young man, by now he is talking deeply into my ear.

“You are so good looking. Wow, you are a really good looking guy” he says while he has me so close I can feel his breath on my ear and feel his body up against mine, tightly as we move in a small circle on the dance floor.

He is talking again, what is he saying? “You really are such a good looking man, but I’m not GAY” he says.

Ah, he isn’t “GAY” but he is dirty dancing with me in a Jazz club in Scotland. Ok, Sure, I don’t care, I surrender. This trip is turning out to be far more bizarre then I ever imagined. I am living in the flow and if a 20 year old, “Straight boy” wants to dirty dance with me, in assumedly what is a straight, Latin Jazz club in Scotland. Fine, I’m game.

He keeps whispering, “If I was gay I would totally be into you, you really are hot.”

He goes to dip me and I take his guidance and throw myself back. My head probably gets pretty close to the ground and happily he doesn’t drop me. I teach yoga and backbends are my specialty, so I just blew his mind.

“That was the most amazing thing I have ever seen” he screams over the music into my ear.

“Yeah, want to see it again?” I say

He throws me back again and once more my backbend is spectacular. When he pulls me up he embraces me with glee and amazement repeating again how attractive I am and how he isn’t gay! He sure is protesting a lot.

This lasts for what seems like 20 minutes but probably wasn’t that long. Eventually he says he is going outside for a fag (cigarette). The irony of it all makes me smile.

As he steps outside I stumble back to my friends, dizzy and confused with a “I have no idea what just happened” look on my face. The guys are like cool, alright, go on then. The girls are asking what was that all about.

I told them all what he said and they unanimously agreed he didn’t look straight from their angle, which I agreed with “Right”!

I stayed with the group a while, trying to compute what just happened. It didn’t, but who cares. Twenty, thirty minutes later I saw him again near the bar. I decide, what the hell, I am going in for round two. I will put myself in his sight of vision. Let him know I am still around and… “Single”.  Let’s see if he takes the bait.

I step up next to him at the bar and order a Guinness. I resist the urge to say anything and he just smiles at me. Good, the lure is set, the hook is baited, let’s see if he bites me.

I cross the dance floor back to the platform with the group, all the while keeping an eye out for the young man. I drink my beer and listen to the amazing band and enjoy some small talk with my mates. I finish the beer and peer out to the dance floor. I spot the young man, not too far away.

As we catch eyes again the dance floor opens up, once more he reaches and grabs me, pulling me into him except this time he isn’t talking. He is no longer interested in protesting his “Straightness”. This time his tongue is deep into my mouth searching for mine.

His hands are moving all over my body while he passionately kisses me. I glance around the dance floor to, again, see how the crowd is reacting. I almost get the sense, the patrons rather enjoy the idea of two guys getting it on. Ok, I will surrender and enjoy it too.

Mind you, I am wearing a kilt—since it is Scotland and I brought one—but I rather think he didn’t notice or doesn’t realize because he stuck his hand down my waistband. Any normal person would go up the kilt verses down the waistband. Wow, we are basically now having sex on the dance floor, I am astounded, but not willing to stop. Hell, when in Scotland do what the Scots want, who I am to stop him from finding what he is searching for.

He hasn’t uttered a word and we go from grinding each other to kissing, fondling and back to grinding, on a continuous loop. Again, this lasts for what feels like 20 minutes or more. I am certainly enjoying the hospitality these young “straight men” offer here in Scotland. I do feel like I could certainly live here or at least visit more straight bars.

As we catch our breath he finally pulls a little away and whispers these sad words in my ear. “I gotta stop, this is done. I’m going outside for another fag but this is done, I can’t anymore”.

And with joyful sadness he slips out of my arms the same way he entered them and I rejoin my mates. I felt a mixture of shock and happiness while left with the feeling of wanting more. In an effort to respect someone else’s struggle, I understood his plight. I began the process of accepting what is and leaving it at that. With a time check and the realization it’s 3 a.m. I choose to leave, guide my roommates home and dream about my Scottish boyfriend, back at the bar.

I will probably, forever remember this fondly with the thought “I wonder what could have happened?” One thing I have learned on this trip is “I am always in the right place, doing the right thing with the right people” in other words, going home is the right thing to do. There is always tomorrow and who knows what that will bring.

  Facebook, July 22—Drew checked in at The Jazz Bar in Edinburgh, Scotland— 

I can’t begin to tell you all how much fun this place is… The locals are really friendly 🙂 I wish I could stay out all night dancing. 

  In the morning my friend, the Mexican, told me the young man was still there when he left at 5 a.m., however he didn’t notice him dancing with anyone after I was gone. I guess I could have stayed and maybe done some dirtier dancing, literally. We will never know.

I woke up the following day—late morning— to a message on my gay app Grindr. Not from the young man the night before but from another admirer. He is 24 years old, blond and very tall, from New Zealand, here on vacation. What is it with all these young men! Oh, and he identifies as bisexual.

The new young man inquired if I wanted to go on a date tonight.

Wow, last night I met a 20 year old and had a deep connection and incredible kissing, tonight I have a 24 year old wanting to go on a date. Hell yes I am game for that. I am living in the flow. Let’s see what else Scotland has to offer.

To recap the group I am traveling with: My three guys from BIGAM, the Brit, American and the Mexican, with the added two from my hostel— an American girl along with an Italian guy. The Brit and the other American are rooming with a young dating couple from Croatia. Including my date, nine of us will be hitting the gay bars. Funny thing is I am the only gay person while my date is BI and the rest are straight. It will be a crazy night I am sure. What can go wrong?

As the day progresses and I figure out where the gay ghetto is, we make our plans for the evening. My date will be meeting us at one of the bars in the ghetto. I am still wearing the kilt, hell, why take it off until I leave Scotland, no better place to wear a kilt in the world.

My date is shy and concerned whether I will like him or not. I am just coming off the Camino, basically five weeks of little to no romance and last night’s escapades got me going. I am ready to cut loose and be adored by a 20-something. My worthiness is high; I deserve a night like this. My guys are excited for me also since they have been wing-manning for each other these last couple weeks.

I still do not understand all that is happening here. Surrendering to the Universe is new for me. I meet a group of guys in Ireland, we travel together for almost two weeks and now we are all heading out for a night on the town in the gay ghetto. How did this happen? Is this what I will expect for the rest of the time I am in Europe? Or, is this my crescendo, my swan song and the rest of my adventure will never peak quite as high. Nothing to worry about now, I surrender today, let the Universe guide me for what is best.

  Facebook, July 22—Drew checks in at CC Bloom’s Gay Nightclub & Bar with 8 others— 

Let’s see what the gay scene in Scotland has to offer. I am out on the town touring gay bars with seven straight people. Hard to believe this is my life. The people I am meeting are so open. I love it. 

  We gather everyone up then we head out to the bar to meet my date. He is tall, over 6 feet while I am 5’8”, not short but certainly short to him. He has a great smile, a shy demeanor, with a little bit of an embarrassed, unsure look on his face—it’s pretty adorable. We talk, he buys Champagne for us all, my friends are certainly kind and willing to be bought for the price of a glass of Champagne. He easily melds into the gnarly crew. This bar has a dance floor and it is filling up a bit. We dance, chat and begin the night with some heaving kissing after a few more glasses of Champagne.

  Facebook, July 22—Drew checks in at Infinity Gay Nightclub with 8 others— 

Bar #2, let’s see how much fun this one is? Gay bar hopping in Scotland. Wow, just WOW! 

  Then it’s time to head over to the next bar, down the street and around the corner. I don’t know how this happens but next thing I know one of the guys takes off his shirt causing an avalanche of guys whipping off their shirts, pulling off mine as we enter the bar and hit the dance floor. Cameras are clicking, people are rushing to the dance floor and the crowd swells. Girls are rubbing on all my friends, not knowing, they like girls and aren’t gay, I wonder if they will figure out the truth.

We didn’t even get a chance to get drinks before the bouncers ask us to put our shirts back on, not that kind of a bar. We choose to leave and hit another bar instead of staying.

We walked around a bit before heading back to the first bar, just being silly all over the streets. Once back to CC Bloom’s, and after a couple of bottles of wine, the dancing commenced. The Brit and the American girl were now entangled, I am a good wingman. I saw the American and the Mexican talking to some girls and I wondered how that was going, since we are in a gay bar.

I was enjoying the dance floor with my date. We were making out like crazy being a little freer with our hands, feeling a bit more safe this evening. The floor was packed but that didn’t stop him from picking me off the ground and twirling me around. Finally a woman tapped us on the shoulder to let us know, after we spilled her drink and bumped her three times, she felt it was time to let us know. We got her message and danced our way to the other side of the dance floor where we could make spectacles of ourselves, maybe with taking up less space this time.

I turn and notice the boyfriend of the couple from Croatia was sitting on the ground near the dance floor and I thought, “That doesn’t look right”. Sure enough, they kicked him out for being drunk. I thought, it’s 2 a.m., maybe it’s time I take this date home and see where this is going. Reminds me of the quote from the movie “Top Gun” when Carol, played by Meg Ryan tells Goose played by Anthony Edwards:

Carole: “Hey, Goose, you big stud. Take me to bed or lose me forever.”

Goose: “Show me the way home, honey.”

Would my New Zealand boyfriend know the movie, he is from another country and the movie was made before he was born in 1986, the year before I graduated from high school.

We say our goodbyes and I look forward to hearing how the night went, after I left all my straight friends out on the town in the “gayborhood” What could go wrong!

Once home we shed our clothes and pile onto the bed tangled in his long arms and legs, rolling around kissing and touching in a way I have not been touched in so long. It felt amazing to be caressed, adored and to have someone look so deeply into my eyes that I feel like they are seeing into me. I so needed a night like this. I so needed a man like this to worship me, if just for one evening—someone who is interested in me and wants nothing more than to give me pleasure. And that’s what he did.

The following morning, late morning, we made love again. Making love isn’t something I am used to since making love wasn’t part of my marriage. It was a friendship more than a marriage.

Making love wasn’t familiar but it did feel wonderful. I realized how long I have missed making love. I don’t really recall the last time I did. It was gentle, kind, caring and warm.

Eventually I left him in his apartment to walk back into the real world. I rejoined my friends to make our final plans to leave Scotland for London. I guess destiny does include losing someone forever; I will always have memories of the men in Scotland.

Once back with my buds they shared their tall tale of a night. So the Mexican and the other American were near the bar talking with some girls when the Mexican got the idea to pretend to “Be Gay”. He asked the Croatian girlfriend to tell the girls he was talking to, “He is gay, totally gay in fact and the other guy is his boyfriend”.

This sparked a night of kissing girls, allowing them to try and convert the gay couple. Then my friends shared the next bright idea.

“Let’s talk about their boobs, asking if they are real and see if we can touch boobies.

Between the two of them—they kissed about 20 girls and got to touch some boobies too.

They were so brazen, they even kissed a girl in front of her boyfriend.

The boyfriend screamed over to them, “Leave my girlfriend alone!”

She yelled back “They are gay, you idiot,” then she apologized for his being such a jerk.

They waived her off with their limp wrist and told her no big deal. My mates even took it so far as to kiss each other while in an embrace; essentially putting their lips on each other’s necks, dry kissing. I was dying as they retold the escapades. I never imagined meeting these guys two weeks earlier, and that we would be here in Scotland recounting our big gay evening. Living in the flow, you never know what the Universe has in store for you.

We were exhausted from so many nights out. I knew this evening would be an early one, at least for me. We choose to drive down to London on Monday after another day of rest here.

London would be our last time together, not knowing if we will ever see each other again, whether at home or here in Europe. We where meeting the Brit back in London since he flew back Sunday morning. I never did get to find out how his evening went with the redheaded American girl. He was being a true reserved gentlemen and she had previously declared her chastity and “good girl” ways.

  Facebook, July 25—Drew and 2 others at Princes Street Gardens— 

We are moving again. Leaving Scotland today, renting our second car(stick shift) and I will be driving for the next seven hours. We are down to just the three of us, Mexican, American and myself, the Gay. We have been together 12 days and we have three or four more together. Love these guys. According to the “Eat Pray Love” travel idea, we are on the PARTY period instead of the Pray period. LOL. I finished my spiritual portion on the 12th of July. Then again, the learning never really ends. It’s been a great ride hanging with the guys. Let’s see what happens in London.

Facebook, July 25—Drew checked in at Enterprise Rent A Car— 

Here I go again, I got the gay card upgrade to an automatic. Yay. No stick shift driving on the wrong side of the road for me. 

Facebook, July 25—Drew eating dinner with the American at Cagney’s Restaurant— 

We made it to London. 7:30 hour drive from Scotland to London. Never in my wildest dreams did I ever think I would, someday, drive a car into London. I drove all 7:30 hours. I feel great. While the American and the Mexican slept most of the way. I played all three Adele albums and turned Siri into a British man, appropriate for driving through England. Good times. 

Facebook, July 25—Drew added new photos— 

Yup, the Eye and Big Ben. I’m here baby!

Facebook, July 26—Drew added new photos with the Mexican and the American— 

Seeing the city on a self-walking tour. More fun…

Facebook, July 26—Drew checked in with the American and the Mexican at Tower of London— 

Lunch break with me mates. The Mexican is enjoying a free-left behind coffee with his meal. No joke, that’s how he rolls. 

  Our first full day we spent sightseeing around London, really just walking everywhere. We started out from our hostel, toured downtown then over to the Tower, across Tower Bridge, along the river Thames. We then continued to the Tate Modern Museum for a quick tour. Finishing our walk to Buckingham Palace and continuing through Hyde park to see the Diana, Princess of Wales fountain and eventually making it back to our hostel. It was a very full day of walking.

That evening, our last night together, we met up with the Brit as The Gnarly BIGAM Crew. We grabbed some beers and reminisced. It was bitter sweet being back together. All we were missing was the Italian, but he was back in Ireland working. I do hope I see him again in Italy when I get there, eventually.

Our visit didn’t last long since we had trains to catch. On that final second it was the Brit and the American heading into the Underground. I hugged them both goodbye, still trying to plant an uncomfortable kiss on the Brit, because I know how much he squirms every time I tried. I kissed the American on the cheek for his goodbye then they turned and down into the underground they went.

I immediately grabbed the Mexican in an uncontrollable sobbing embrace. He held me tight and let me cry. I have such a hard time saying goodbye and the other American and I had been by each other’s side the entire two weeks. We were very close. I missed them immediately. I knew the Mexican was staying in Europe longer so there was good a chance we would see each other again somewhere in Europe. Who knows, maybe we will visit the Italian together before we leave for North America.

The Universe has treated me well. Looking back on that day in Ireland, I was feeling sad and longing for a new adventure with some cool guys. I wanted to make some new friends. I never imagined two weeks later I would have so many amazing memories with such wonderful people. A chance encounter in a Pub in Ireland, a simple question and a simple answer, “Who wants to drive around Ireland and see the sights”? “Me, sign me up.

What could go wrong”?

Nothing, nothing did.

Can I surrender and live in the flow? Looks like I can, and believe me, it’s worth it.

  Facebook, July 26—Drew— Surrender looks like peace, it does not resemble giving up.—Drew Eric

Can I surrender to the will of the Universe while backpacking Europe? July 2016, Backpacking Europe on my Journey-of-Self-Discovery Can I do this, can I surrender to the will of the Universe? 

[dreweric]

October 2016, Backpacking Europe, my Journey-of-Self-Discovery

Can I do this; can I overcome fear and continue traveling the Balkans? 

Facebook, October 3—Drew posted a photo— 

“When you can’t control what’s happening, challenge yourself to control the way you respond to what’s happening. That’s where your power is.” —Unknown 

  He said, “I want to kill you right now!” I believed him.

I entered Bosnia with a vague memory of its history. I remember there was a war however I couldn’t recall any details. I remembered the Olympics in Sarajevo but not when it was. My knowledge of Bosnia today was completely unknown. I quickly learned.

I arrived with a friend, a new traveling buddy that I met 2 hostels/cities prior. We were greeted by the owner’s brother who checked us in.

  Facebook, October 4—Drew—

Act of Kindness #5 Free upgrade to a 2 bed shared room from an 8 bed dorm, for my new friend and me. Free coffee and morning breakfast. Love this place…

  The original Facebook post included the name of the hostel. However, after the death threats, my feelings have changed towards the hostel and their act of kindness.

Once checked in I spent some time in our private room and unpacked. I went on some apps and the dating sites to see if there were any locals who would be interested in showing me around town. I have learned while traveling, several apps work well for meeting locals and other travelers. When you’re traveling solo, having local guides makes the city that much more enjoyable. Couch Surfing, Tinder, and other gay apps are great sources for meeting people while traveling. Both Couch Surfing and Tender have “hangout” options and meet-ups for people to gather.

  Facebook, October 4—Drew— 

Act of kindness #6 I met a local here in Bosnia and he took me on a tour of Mostar. Great day

  I was surprised how quickly I received messages from men offering to show me around town. Three locals specifically offered to show me the sites. On my tour that evening, I learned all about gay life in Mostar. To my surprise, it sounded like a difficult life for the gay community.

Before I jump into the gay life in Mostar, let me give you a little history of Bosnia. I learned all this from my tour guides and I used Google to fill in more details.

After the death of the very popular dictator Josip Broz Tito in 1980, Yugoslavia floundered for several years. Eventually it failed without a strong president/dictator that could keep Yugoslavia together. Slovenia and Croatia were the first two cities to separate and form their own countries in 1991. Then Yugoslavia fell in 1992. It was 1991 when the war started in Bosnia after they also wanted to separate from Yugoslavia. Serbia, the capitol of Yugoslavia, let Slovenia go. I was told, because of its location adjacent to Italy and Austria. However Serbia was reluctant to let Bosnia go.

In 1999 Kosovo separated from Serbia. However the Serbs do not recognize it as a separate country either and chose to go to war again to keep it, as they did with Bosnia. As you can imagine, there is much unrest in this area remaining from the Serbian/Yugoslavian days.

Bosnia was not allowed independence from Serbia/Yugoslavia. Sarajevo who held the Winter Olympic Games in 1984, the first communist country to hold the Olympics, was eventually surrounded and blocked from all supplies for three years. Mostar is ranked the sixth largest city in Bosnia currently and was also a front line for the war. The BBC did a graphic depiction of the war in Mostar and you can watch it on youtube. https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Ipua2Mh_F_c

In 1995, under the eyes of the United Nations (UN), the Serbian military committed genocide against Muslims during the years 1992-1995. In 1995 the Serbian military killed more than 8,000 Bosniak (“Bosnian Muslim”) men and boys in and around the town of Srebrenica in Bosnia and Herzegovina, as well as the mass expulsion of another 25,000–30,000 Bosniak civilians. This was a very bad time in history for Bosnia and Herzegovina.

The Croatians and the Serbians both had their part in the war on Bosnia and Herzegovina. In 1993 the alliance between Bosnia and Croatia fell apart and they went to war against each other. Today in Bosnia there are Croats, Bosnians and Bosniaks. From what I gather,the three religions are Catholic, Orthodox and Islam.

With Bosnia wedged between Serbia and Croatia there are great tensions lasting today with the older generations holding grudges along with long memories of the atrocities of war. The younger generations that didn’t live through the wars however have a more accepting attitude of each other. Still, some hold animosity and extreme views. During the time I spent in Bosnia I learned a great deal on how hurt and angry the Bosnians remain today towards so many people and religions.

From the multiple offers of tour guides, I chose two. Both guides are gay men and my first tour was that evening while the second one I set up for the following afternoon. Both guides confirmed the same sad tale about how gay life is in Mostar, Bosnia. I also learned about the economy, political corruption and high unemployment.

With the war memories, unemployment, corruption, separate group identities i.e. Croats, Bosnians and Bosniaks, along with religious differences; you can imagine the anger and separation each person feels in Mostar. Now add in Homosexuality and they are just another group to hate amongst all the other groups to point their finger and say, you are different from me and should be removed, killed and/or imprisoned.

After unpacking and before my frist walking tour, I watched the BBC special on Mostar during the war, basically setting the tone for all I was about to see. I had no idea then what I would eventually learn and see for myself.

While touring the city I saw the charming medieval bridge that was completely restored after it was destroyed during the war. (UNESCO, the World Bank along with Croatia, France, Italy, the Netherlands and Turkey, paid for the restoration of the old bridge) Leading up to the bridge are adorable small river rock roads with tourist shops on both sides, along with restaurants bustling with business, even after summer has ended. I was genuinely surprised how many tourists are still walking, shopping and eating in this small town.

When I joined my first local tour guide we walked towards the Sniper Tower. I was informed during the war, snipers were atop the building taking aim on the residence of Mostar and they still call it the Sniper Tower today. Originally it was a bank building in the ‘80s and it will “soon”(or probably not knowing how Mostar operates) be restored to a working building again.

There were many, many war-torn buildings crumbling along the side of the road with shrapnel marks, bullet holes and missing walls and roofs. Clearly you can see the destructionliving among today’s inhabitants as an uncomfortable reminder. Whether you lived through the war or were born after the war, you can see and feel it all around you, there is no escape.

On my tour, I was taken up to the “Partisan Memorial” which is an old Yugoslavian/communist memorial built in 1965. It’s been neglected, abandoned and vandalized since the end of the war in 1996. It once had a cascading fountain and was a relaxing area for the community to gather but today it’s enjoyed by tourist and vandals.

My eyes tired of the destruction and my ears worked at not listening to the sadness that was coming from my guides. It was then I started to learn about how life is for gay men in Mostar—even how they treat each other which compounds the difficulties they all face. Needless to say, they do not have gay pride in Mostar.

On the dating sites most men don’t post their faces in fear of being outed. They rarely meet up with each other and even more rarely date since the gay life is so secretive. If they do show someone their face, it is usually received with silence or criticism. They have a constant fear of being gossiped about among one another, supporting their secret lives.

Gossip has remained a concern, drawing from the communist lifestyle when your neighbors turned you in for not following the rules put upon you. I learned this is why so many locals seek out the companionship of visitors. Out-of-towners are safe, enjoyable and don’t talk about the people they meet to other locals since they leave town in a day or two.

When I entered the Balkans I noticed gay men generally don’t hold eye contact with each other. I noticed this in Croatia and then again in Bosnia. Something as simple as looking someone in the eyes is too intimate for them. I am not entirely sure why.

I inquired if they are “out” with their families or friends and I was told no. Their life is very secretive among everyone in their lives. Secrecy perpetuates the lack of community and acceptance. The more they keep themselves hidden, the longer it will take to live the life of their dreams. For now, their life is small, quiet, limited and hidden from sight. Clearly they have no gay bars or any outlet whatsoever for the gay community to come together and feel safe while living their lives.

This was difficult for me to hear since I spent the last 20 years in an openly gay relationship. One of the many lessons I learned after leaving America is becoming comfortable with heterosexual men. I realized I lived in a gay bubble and had very little dealings with men. I had to learn how to be myself among men while in Europe. I was afraid men wouldn’t like me. I was wrong; I have found many men who like me for who I am. I wrote this in a blog, The Camino is teaching me how to be a MAN: https://dreweric.wordpress.com/2017/10/11/the-camino-is-teaching-me-how-to-be-a-man/

Now I am in a city that appears to live in secrecy. I still didn’t put two-and-two together for my own safety, never thinking the very person who is most responsible for my wellbeing, by keeping me safe with a roof over my head, will be the person to threaten my life. With all the secrecy in Mostar, location between two rival countries, atrocities of war and living in a community that is still separated by religions and groups, it is clear this is a powder keg of separation, maintaining a life of hate anger and placing blame on others. So I completely understand where this community comes from when they hate others. It’s understandable in this city.

In addition, Bosnian politics appear to be very corrupt. One of the guests in the hostel was there to observe the elections and found several disturbing situations about the election—everything from buying votes, to a convicted war criminal being elected into office after 15 years in jail. One politician even received 100% of the vote. After the 1996 wars, America sent over a billion dollars to help Bosnia recover. I was told most of the money went into off shore accounts owned by the politicians in charge of restoring Bosnia’s infrastructure. They didn’t even have enough money to rebuild the Mostar Bridge.

Unemployment is exceptionally high. Reportedly you need to be a member of a party, have a friend recommend you for a job and pay the employer for the job once it is offered to you. Both of my tour guides are unemployed, living at home with family for more than 15 months combined. They do not appear to have job opportunities on the horizon.

Meeting visitors is one of the relief points in their life, distracting them from their four walls that act like a prison in their own homes. We discussed leisure activities, working out and I was told it’s hard to leave home for activities like that when they don’t have a job or money so they end up staying in most days. Home life means they have nothing to do but continue to think and dwell on their circumstances.

Most hostels are run by volunteers and/or employees that tend to be younger, liberal thinking and open to all races, religions and sexuality—because that’s how the 20-somethings see the world. They don’t see separation as much; they are more open to new ideas and people. In my travels I haven’t come across a family-run hostel, so this was my first.

I met the brother who checked me in. He was very helpful, gave me coffee and told me about the BBC movie on Mostar during the war. He also upgraded my friend and I from an 8-bed dorm room to a 2-bed private room. Later that evening, I met the owner for a brief moment. I believe he is about my age if not a bit younger, but over 40 most likely, putting him in the war during the 90’s.

My second day started with the second tour of Mostar, leaving me tired, drained and relieved to get back to my hostel. I felt such sadness after my tour, learning about the area and life in Mostar.

The previous day I made plans to meet my first tour guide again back in my hostel to hangout. Since I had a private room and my friend was out, I didn’t think it would be a problem. It was mid afternoon when my new friend arrived. The hostel has an open courtyard which divides the main living area and kitchen from the dorm room and our private room.

Shortly after my friend arrived I heard what sounded like the brother screaming outside, “NO, NO!” We thought that was weird and wondered what the screaming was about. Shortly after he screamed my friend knocked on the door telling me our host wants my friend to leave the premises. Concerned for his safety I agreed this was best.

I chose to let the whole incident go since I was feeling uncomfortable with the yelling and what seemed to be anger on the part of the owner’s brother. I went back to my room for a bit then headed out to make a video on “Overcoming fears of the Unknown”. I had no idea how much my own words of wisdom would be so beneficial and timely.

I went down to the bridge and shot my video. I felt great, accomplished and headed back to the hostel afterwards. On the way back I had a hint of intuition, “I could very well be asked to leave the hostel.” I noticed that just a couple doors down was another hostel and thought, “I could easily walk the few feet and check in their if something does, in fact, go amiss.”

I passed through the courtyard on the way to my room. Within minutes we got a knock at the door and it was the owner asking to speak with me in the hall as to not disturb my roommate. He stated “You have broken my rules and you need to leave. You have two minutes to pack up your things and leave the premises.” I did not argue with the man since he was the owner and I chose to leave a place where I was not welcome. I would rather be safe than right.

I shared what just happened in the hall with my friend and he was shocked, confused and scared since he had booked a van ride with them the following day to another city. I packed and headed out the door to leave. The owner called out for me to pay for the one night I slept in his hostel. I agreed to pay and walked towards them. They got behind me as to block me from escape and told me to head into the kitchen to settle the bill.

As I turned towards the kitchen I got pushed from behind. I am wearing two backpacks, one on my back and one in front, weighing around 45 lbs. After I got pushed I stopped in my tracks, looked them in the eyes and let them both know they do not have permission to touch me. I was getting louder at this time and people were coming outside to see what the commotion was. They told me to walk into the kitchen to pay for my room, equally as loud.

Once in the kitchen I reached into my pocket and told him “All I have is Croatian money” which infuriated the owner. He replied “I am not taking that communist money; you will need to pay me with something else.” When those words exited his mouth I realized something. This isn’t about me, I am just another person for him to point his finger at and say, “You’re the reason my life is so bad.” It was a surreal moment.

I told him “I don’t have any other money” leaving us in silence looking at each other. I again told him a little louder “Seriously, I have no other money.”

Another guest at the hostel softly spoke up and offered to exchange my money for Euros, allowing me to pay the 10 Euro bill. Quietly we took a minute to exchange money; all the while several guests and my friend were observing the commotion.

As I paid and moved to leave, he stepped in front of me and told me “Your friend is in the mafia. You invited someone from the mafia into my hostel. Do you know he is in the mafia?”

I said, “I don’t know anyone in this town.” (I later found out the brother took 50 Euros from the man as bribery for silence and threatened him with harm. This didn’t seem to be a reasonable behavior for someone suspected to be in the Mafia).

Then he said, in front of his other guest, “I want to kill you right now”. I got out of there quickly. His anger was at a boiling point and I wasn’t feeling safe. Children were playing outside when I was leaving the building and his brother told the kids “move out of his way, he is GAY!”

When I reached the road I quickly went to the other hostel hiding myself at the entrance so he couldn’t see where I was going. During my check in I told my new host that I had just arrived on the bus today, since I was afraid she might be friends with her neighboring hostel. I never told her the truth.

My roommate and friend, afraid for his own safety, decided to stay at the hostel and remain hidden away in his room. Once the owner was away, he joined the remaining guest in the common room. They were all a bit shaken and kept talking about how crazy and homophobic the hostel owner was.

After I checked in to the new hostel and got situated, I went out to meet back up with my friend for coffee. He wanted to give me a coat and hat for my travels now that Fall has arrived in the region.

  Facebook, October 4—Drew— 

Act of kindness #9 I told my local friend I didn’t have a winter coat. He gave me a hat and coat and said he hasn’t worn them for a while. He has been unemployed for more than a year and lives at home with his family. 

  As I exited the hostel to meet for coffee, I came across another friend from the hostel in Hvar, Croatia. We chatted for a few minutes. I was so shaken, I could only talk about my troubles. As I was sharing the story, the angry hostel owner came walking my way. He passed by without saying anything. I felt safe with the guys I was with. I was still very nervous seeing him again. I hurried away shortly after to meet my friend.

Later in the evening the angry owner attempted to apologize to my friend for the troubles earlier. My friend said it was upsetting to him and he was concerned for me. It was then the angry owner got distracted with his thoughts and told my friend, “He was probably dealing drugs in the room. I should call the cops and tell them to arrest him before he crosses the border!” He walked over to the phone and started dialing. My friend ran to his room to message me “Get out of Bosnia as soon as you can, this guy is crazy!”

  Facebook, October 4—Drew—

“Try to believe, however briefly, that nothing can harm you in any way.”—A Course in Miracles

  During coffee with my friend when I got the message. I jumped up, thanked my friend for everything, grabbed my new coat and started back to the hostel to hide out for the rest of the night.

Back in the safety of the hostel, I shared my story with one of the other guests. I wanted to talk about it just in case the police stormed in, taking me to jail for dealing drugs. My thoughts were crazy for sure. The living room was full of people eating and talking. I felt warm and safe with all the friendly travelers.

When I got ready for bed, I checked my messages one last time. My friend messaged again saying the volunteer at the hostel knocked on his bedroom door. She told him the owner was drafting an email to send out to the “Balkan Hostel Group” saying I was a “Drug dealing homosexual” in an effort to get me blacklisted for the time period I remained in the Balkans. She also told him she was ending her volunteer service at this hostel tomorrow because of the owner’s homophobia.

My plan is to leave on the 7 a.m. bus, figuring the angry hostel owner won’t be up that early. I am truly concerned for my safety at this point. So many fears are creeping into my mind. Having to explain to the police that I am not a drug dealer, fearing I will be blacklisted in future hostels and possibly physically hurt. I took two Xanax, and read my book for a bit as a distraction until I fell asleep.

In the morning I left my hostel and was able to reach my bus safely. Two police officers stepped onto the bus and I silently panicked. I thought for sure they were here for me—they weren’t, they were just passengers.

My next stop was Sarajevo, Bosnia. I worked hard over the next few days to let go of the fears that came up for me. It was strange having so much anxiety again. I was feeling so comfortable with my travels after the third month. I really felt calm, relaxed and at peace with living the nomad life. Mostar seemed to interrupt my peace, I was so enjoying. But I didn’t let it win. I have again found my peace.

I chose not to leave the Balkans. I chose to continue my travels through what used to be communist countries and are now democratically based. I am still observing a different world in this eastern bloc. I still feel uncomfortable but I am not letting fear stop me from experiencing this part of the world.

  Facebook, October 4—Drew— 

Fears are not “Stop Signs.” The purpose of fear is to give us warning and proceed with caution while remaining alert and observe our surroundings. Do not confuse warning signs with stop signs.

  Fears are warning signs not stop signs. I wrote about this as a coaching tip. Now I am following my own words. I got present with my trip, found courage and controlled my thinking, not allowing negativity and fears to metastasize in my mind.

  Facebook, October 5—Drew—

“Bravery is acknowledging your fear and doing it anyway.”—Cheryl Strayed

  I will continue to grow from this experience. I came to Europe to be uncomfortable and grow. I also wanted to see how others live their lives in another land. I am happy to have learned and seen so much. It hasn’t always been easy but even this experience has changed me for the better.

On this trip I have visited 20 countries thus far. Before the Balkans I took for granted how many cities had gay bars and businesses. Now I see none and it’s unsettling.

  Facebook, October 4—Drew posted a photo— 

How to overcoming fears of the unknown: 

Fears are warning signs 

Have courage 

Be present 

Control your thinking—Drew Eric

  In the Balkans I have traveled through Croatia, Bosnia and I am currently in Romania. I am planning on visiting Bulgaria, Macedonia, Kosovo, Montenegro and Albania, then off to Greece. There doesn’t seem to be gay pride or gathering areas for men to meet and mingle in the Balkans. When I lived at home over the past 20 years, I lived in a gay bubble of safety and security with many bars and gay businesses. Now I am experiencing a life without such privileges and safety.

The hostel owner is working hard at making a living in a city with such corruption and lack of employment. He has carved out a real business for himself. Besides the hostel he runs a shuttle business to neighboring cities and countries, helping his guest navigate transportation while visiting this end of the world. Another creative source of income is a day tour his family provides bringing his guests to neighboring sights and shares history about the war. One business supplies three sources of income which shows resourcefulness and ingenuity. I admire this about him and the effort his family makes to provide in a difficult economy. I don’t blame him for his lack of awareness and limited acceptance for others, who are different from himself. I see the environment in which he has been raised.

Elizabeth Lesser presented at TED Women 2010 a talk with the topic: Take “the other” to lunch.

From the TED website: There’s an angry divisive tension in the air that threatens to make modern politics impossible. She shares a simple way to begin real dialogue — by going to lunch with someone who doesn’t agree with you, and asking them three questions to find out what’s really in their hearts. 

http://www.ted.com/talks/elizabeth_lesser_take_the_other_to_lunch?language=en#t-521050

I was moved by the TED talk and shared it on my Facebook because of the division we are seeing in today’s politics during this 2016 presidential election. If we continue to see each other as wrong, separate, different or even as the enemy, we will perpetuate hatred and wars. In order for us to survive we must start seeing each other as one and the same. See our enemies as brothers with a slightly different view on life.

I have friends on Facebook who support different views. I love and respect them as human beings and I won’t unfriend them or block them from my life. I accept them for who they are, as my brother or sister.

I hope someday gay pride will make its way through the Balkans. I also recognize they have other issues to deal with. There is so much hurt, anger and separation.

“Imagine all the people living life in peace. 

You may say I’m a dreamer

But I’m not the only one

I hope someday you’ll join us

And the world will be as one”—John Lennon 

  I am not paralyzed by the strong grip of fear. I can move through my fear and emerge on the safe side, where love and unity lives.

  Facebook, October 4—Anthony—

Good read Drew..terrible intolerance and the use of fear as powerful weapon is disturbing..no country is immune to its reach.

He said, “I want to kill you right now!” I believed him.  October 2016, Backpacking Europe, my Journey-of-Self-Discovery Can I do this; can I overcome fear and continue traveling the Balkans? 

[dreweric]

September 2016, Backpacking Europe, my Journey-of-Self-Discovery

Can I do this; can I keep my thinking positive and attract wonderful experiences on my journey?

Facebook, September 9—Drew— 

My Self is ruler of the Universe. It is impossible that anything should come to me unbidden by myself. Even in this world, it is I who rule my destiny. What happens is what I desire. What does not occur is what I do not want to happen. This must I accept.—A Course in Miracles

  My friend arrived in Budapest, late evening. This is the travel buddy I met in Ireland and, along with my other Ireland travel buddies, the Gnarly BIGAM Crew, we spent 2 weeks together (BIGAM is an anagram for Brit, Italian, Gay, American, Mexican).  However it’s just G (Gay) and M (Mexican) now. After he arrived we enjoyed some wine and caught up.

We split from the Gnarly BIGAM Crew around the beginning of August and went in separate directions. When I was in Berlin, the Mexican decided to reach out and see where in Europe I was. He wasn’t that far and met me in Berlin.

When our time in Berlin was winding down, I shared with him that my next stop was Wroclaw, Poland to meet another travel buddy I met in England. He and I visited Stonehenge, which was a one day travel excursion. He liked the idea and a new travel plan formed for the three of us. We stayed together in Wroclaw and Prague. Travel buddies can make a vacation go from good to totally amazing.

The Mexican went off to paint a mural at a hostel in Slovakia, in return for free room and food while I went to Venice and Croatia. After Croatia I chose Budapest to visit a girlfriend I met while walking the Camino. I invited the Mexican who was happy to join me; he couldn’t pass up an opportunity for free boarding.

After catching up over a bottle of wine, we walked down to the Danube River, city center of Budapest. If you haven’t traveled in Europe yet, all medieval cities were built on a river for trade and transportation. The river separates what was once dual cities that didn’t get along, Buda and Pest. The rivalry still remains between the now joined cities. As the residents of Buda say “The best thing Pest has, is the view of Buda.” Buda has an amazing mountain side called “Castle Hill” with a Palace and church that looks like an ancient castle while the Parliament building is on the Pest side.

At the end of WWII, Budapest was one of the last German strongholds. As I was told during a walking tour, Russia was on the Pest side and Germany was on the Buda hill. They spent the last few months bombing each other, destroying the city and all it’s interesting buildings and character. When the war was over and communists occupied Budapest, they rebuilt.

During the construction they choose the design of the new city to have the appearance of it’s past. That’s why today, Europe calls Budapest the most beautiful fake city, since it’s less then 100 years old but looks to be centuries old. Not a very fair description for Budapest since it truly is a breathtaking city with the rebuilt bridges, new Parliament building, Fisherman’s wall on Castle hill, Buda Castle and the picturesque Liberty Statue.

Fisherman’s wall is a long wall directly in front of the Church on Castle Hill giving the church and the wall the appearance of an ancient castle. The wall contains seven turrets to represent the seven tribes of Hungary who founded the country in 895. This is the place where tourist and locals alike come to bask in the views of the Parliament Building and Pest and is a UNESCO World Heritage site.

The river area was quite busy, even on a Monday night. We had a couple beers and I told my friend all about Budapest from the information I learned on the walking tour. I love walking tours, you really get into the heart of a city with cool information you wouldn’t know otherwise.

  Facebook, September 9—Drew posted a photo— 

“Karma: What goes around comes around. Keep your circle positive. Say good words. Think good thoughts. Do good deeds.”—unknown  

  After taking many pictures and sharing stories we moved on towards this cool hipster space called Ruin Bar—an old dilapidated communist building somewhat stabilized, giving it a cool condemned feeling— to drink and listen to music. On our way we were stopped by two girls asking us a question in Hungarian.

I asked if they spoke English and one of the girls immediately switched over. They were asking directions to a bar that their hotel recommended. They are visiting from Transylvania, Romania. It just sounded so cool hearing these girls—in their Romanian accents—say they were from Transylvania, since never in my life have I heard someone say, “We are visiting from Transylvania, Romania, you know where Dracula is from.” They asked if we were interested in joining them for a drink. We agreed, happily to meet and get to know some other travelers. With their accents and intrigue, I wanted to follow them anywhere. I love meeting interesting travelers.

Romanian 1 wasn’t exactly sure where the bar was but we found it pretty easily. It was small with white walls and only a few tables, with a small group of four at another table. Romanian 2 mentioned something about it being a local’s bar. We sat in a booth where the waitress joined us for our drink order. Romanian 1 said let’s have the Hungarian shot that is only served in Hungary and placed our order. I have pretty much given up hard liquor at this point of my trip, choosing to enjoy my journey to the fullest versus occasionally being hung-over from vodka. I no longer spend long hours in a bar. But hey, when in Hungary you do what the Hungarians do or what the Romanian’s say we should do.

After Romanian 1 placed our order, I told the Mexican the shot is 35 proof.  I learned about it on the walking tour. The shots came along with what appeared to be small bottles of champagne. I thought that was weird as I don’t remember ordering champagne, but I left it alone.

We settled into our drinks and conversation on how the Mexican and I met and where we have visited. The girls invited us to visit them in Romania and we were intrigued and happy with our luck to meet such amazing, friendly girls. This was a real possibility for us since he and I had open travel plans and we could visit any country we wanted. It was a hoot dreaming about visiting Romania and being spontaneous during our trip.

The Romanians said Hungary is famous for another shot and promptly placed an order for a second round. Again it came with more champagne and I thought, “hmmmm, that’s strange.”

Romanian 1 said, “Fenékig” which is Hungarian for “Until the bottom of the glass”, while Romanian 2 said “mai multe băuturi” which is “more drinks” in Romanian. The Mexican said, “Salud” and I said “Cheers.”

It was shortly before midnight when our waitress asked us to settle up the bill since they were closing soon. I pulled out my card and she said, “We don’t take cards, but I can walk you to the money machine.” I agreed since I had no more Forint (Hungarian money). The waitress, Romanian 1 and I head out into the street on our way to the money machine. I thought it was weird for all of us to head out but didn’t think much more than that.

I put in my card the machine, changed the language to English and begin my transaction. Romanian 1 steps up and says, “Let me help you since it’s in another language” and starts pushing all the buttons. I thought, “That’s weird for her to step up and take control of my transaction.”

Money comes out and I retrieve it along with my card. The waitress steps and says, “I will take that to settle the bill” and proceeds taking bills out of my hand. I thought, again, “That’s weird for the waitress to settle the bill right here on the street, not back in the bar.” Then I thought, “I need to come up with another expression than “That’s weird, I keep saying everything is weird.”

We work our way back to the bar to meet my friend and Romanian 2. My friend seems to be having a good time with Romanian 2 since they are in deep, animated conversation. The waitress comes over with the bill and mentions we have a remainder to pay. At which time Romanian 1 tells me they didn’t bring any Hungarian money and don’t have any cards with them, but we can pay you back tomorrow.

“HOLD UP! WAIT, WHAT?” I thought. I am a little disoriented from all the activities, conversations and bill paying. I am not sure how much money I took out of the machine or how much I have paid the waitress on the street. I don’t understand why the waitress is asking me to settle the bill saying we still owe more money.

I don’t care how much I have had to drink or what language you say it in but I know bullshit when I hear it. I don’t have cards or money is clearly alarming. I now realize something is up.

The waitress put’s down a bill/receipt on the table and speaks with the Mexican. I’m distracted by Romanian 1 while I am trying to look at the bill. I barely notice the Mexican leave with Romanian 2 and the waitress. I vaguely think, in my confusion with all that is happening, he is on his way to the money machine and I need to figure out what this bill says.

Before the waitress left with the bill I glance down at it and notice how many “Zero’s” it has. “Wait a second, if I remember correctly that is too many zeros on the bill to make this exchange typical for my budget.” I thought. If I remember my conversion correctly HUF (Hungarian Forint) 1000 divided by 300 is somewhere close to $4. If my eyes are seeing correctly, there is an extra zero on this bill that I am not paying. If my blurry eyes are correct, that bill says HUF 300,000 something. I am not entirely sure but I am pretty confident that’s to much money and I am not paying it. It is somewhere around $1,200 possibly.

I am beginning to realize this bar is ripping us off and the girls are acting like they want some free drinks from us. I am thinking this was screw top champagne and this bar is trying to charge us for Dom Perignon. I am not letting this bar charge me for Dom when I got screw top. I am not paying for the girls’ drinks especially since I am not into girls. I am way too, let’s say, Frugal.

Romanian 1 is running at the mouth and I realize she is attempting to distract me. I pull out my phone to “Google translate the currency.” The bill has now disappeared so I am only guessing it actually said HUF 300,000 something. If it did, then I am able to see in Google translate it is entirely too much money and we are getting robbed by this bar. I keep my cool while Romanian 1 is still talking nonstop attempting to distract.

My friend arrives back from his adventure to the money machine with Romanian 2 and the waitress. Romanian 1 joins them outside while I am left alone with Romanian 2’s purse. I wonder, “Does she have any bargaining chips in her purse just in case this goes completely out the window, which it pretty much already has.” I grab her purse and check it out. Wallet is empty; purse is basically empty other than a cell phone that slipped out of her purse and magically into my pocket.

The Mexican comes in and looks me straight in the eye and say’s, “I think we are getting taken advantage of.” I reply back with a very loud “We are totally getting taken advantage of.” Mayhem ensues.

Romanian 1 again says she will pay us tomorrow. I am thinking this waitress isn’t getting any more of my money tonight and the Romanians are going to have to find a way to pay for the remainder of the bill. It doesn’t actually occur to me at the time that I don’t know how much I paid on the street or even how much I took out of the money machine. I do know my wallet is still pretty full of HUF. I am getting louder by this point. They encourage me to “Calm down”. I inform them about the weather outside and it being summer and all and snow and freezing something.

The Mexican is talking and saying something I am not entirely sure about, all I want to do is get out of this thieving bar and leave the girls to pay the remainder of the bill. By this point they are saying we could leave since we are being so loud and I inform my friend, “We are leaving now!” I was thinking, “Let’s go before they try to get more of my money.”

Once outside the bar away from the girls we start comparing notes. He informed me of his adventure, trying to take money out of the money machine. After several attempts and several different amounts—with Romanian 2 taking over his transaction—he wasn’t able to get any money. They informed him the “Money exchange office” is also nearby and if he has a credit card they will take money off it.

So off they went to the money exchange office. It was there he realized the rate exchange and he was taking out WAY too much money and he started to push back with the waitress on the bill. She then tried to explain “You should have looked at the menu closer before you ordered.”

“Crazy since we didn’t order champagne or receive a menu” I thought while he was relaying the story.

He continued to inform me that he did pay the waitress on the street, same as I did. Once he was back in the bar he was then trying to look at the bill to figure out the prices and what we were getting charged. Romanian 2 was helping/taking control of the addition on the bill. She took the menu and the bill, gave it back to him, then took it away again, not really giving him time to figure it out for himself. Since he just arrived to Budapest, he hadn’t had a chance to determine the Mexican Pesos to HUF conversion and both have a lot of zero’s.

I did not know he also paid while he was out at the money machine or he was trying to figure out the bill. I would have stayed longer if I knew he paid cash on the street. I asked him if he thought the girls were in on it. We just didn’t know. It was very upsetting. He also wasn’t aware how much he paid or took out of the money machine.

The next day over breakfast, feeling awful with a hangover from the drinks we paid for, we started piecing together what actually happened.

I went online to my bank and saw my withdrawal and was surprised it was $544. He had withdrawn $135 off a credit card. Fortunately, I am not exactly sure how, they got only $217 of my money. I had a nice amount of HUF still on me. In total, the bar made off with $352. Again I asked him if he thought the girls were in on it. It was highly unlikely at this point that they weren’t. We vacillated all day whether they were or were not in on the robbery.

Later that evening we met another traveler. We relayed our story to her and she, sadly, told us she was told to watch out for nice girls that want to take you to a bar, as they will try and rip you off. It was now confirmed. The Romanians (if they were actually Romanian travelers) were part of the scam with the bar and we were robbed, no question.

We were pretty angry the night before. I remembered how angry I was. Then I remembered picking the Romanian’s phone up off the ground when we were outside on the street. I noticed it was smashed in a million little pieces and I figured she wouldn’t want a broken phone back. So we just left her phone on the street with the trash. The good news is, her phone cost more than the amount they robbed from us.

  Facebook, September 10—Drew posted a photo— 

Thoughts become things. If you see it in your mind, you will hold it in your hand.—Bob Proctor 

  “A Course in Miracles” tells me “What happens is my desire.” So I thought long and hard about that. I remembered at the time I was concerned about spending, overspending and losing money on my trip. I am a student of “ACIM” and I believe I attracted this mishap to me, for me. This was a learning lesson on how my thinking impacts my journey.

It’s my belief I attracted someone to take my money because that’s the energy I was karmically putting into the world. All the Universe heard was “I am losing money” and so it happened, prophecy delivered. I must be more mindful of my thinking.

I still LOVE Budapest. This is now just an amazing tale about my adventures/miss adventures on my Journey-of-Self-Discovery. Wouldn’t you agree?

Going forward I will be mindful of my thinking. I can attract positivity to my life, on my journey, I can and I shall. Prophecy delivered.

Facebook, September 16—Jason— 

This is quite a common scam in lots of cities/country’s across the world… But im so glad that this has not dampened your spirits buddy!!! It’s just another ‘experience’ to have had… Onwards to new pastures soon?

Facebook, September 16—Celia— 

On the bright side…you’re fortunate they only scammed you out of money. 

Facebook, September 16—Carleen—

Taken down by a couple skirts! 

Facebook, September 16—Frank—

A bar did a similar thing to us in Budapest. The bartenders would charge us a different price every time we would order the same drinks and would get aggressive when we confronted them about it.

Facebook, September 16—Solimar—

Always be careful with the Romanian gypsies.

Facebook, September 16—Christopher— 

Wow, guess that’s why they call it an adventure right.

Facebook, September 16—Anne—

Don’t trust anyone… Trust yourself and only your gut… Even with your travel buddies… When some people from other countries see friendly Americans they automatically assume you are good prey… As you have now learned… It could have been worse. So change your password and if you don’t understand how to use the ATM or what you are being charged for in a bar, call a cop… Not everyone is looking for friends… Some people are just looking for prey… Keep aware… Don’t trust anyone… Remember you are in a foreign land… and out of your comfort zone…

Facebook, September 16—Gregory—

Unfortunately, a common occurrence in Budapest (and elsewhere). Know others this has happened to. Stay vigilant.

Facebook, September 16—Goffredo—

Glad ur safe. That’s what matters! Have a blast!!!!

Facebook, September 16— Frieze— 

Same kind of thing happened to us in Beijing – two well spoken Chinese guys saw us looking at our tourist map and offered to show us around one afternoon then mentioned one of their favorite bars nearby – they ordered 4 beers, then 4 glasses of crappy wine and a pot of tea. We were grateful for the mini tour so I offered to pay thinking it couldn’t be more than $40 or $50 dollars. As I was just about to give my card to the person at the register I did a double take and found it to be $432 – the pot of tea alone was $70. That’s when “scam” became obvious and foolishly I said to the two guys “you ordered this, you pay” and walked out on them. When we got out on the street I had second thoughts about what I’d just done- I was waiting for the Chinese Police to pop out and arrest us but we made it away without any problem. I found out later it’s a very common scam; they share in the proceeds from this with the merchant. It’s a shame that you have to be so suspicious of people in your travels but seems to be the ways of the world these days. As the Brits say, “Keep calm and carry on”.

Facebook, September 16—Morie— 

That exactly happened to a friend of mine in Budapest, but he was robbed $1,000  

Facebook, September 16—Charleen—

Wow! Glad you are okay. That is a good lesson for all of us.

Facebook, September 16—Chris—

The old Romanian champagne in a Budapest bar trick… 

Facebook, September 16—John—

They are called B girls, we have them in Miami too.

Facebook, September 16—Robin—

But it makes a great story

I got robbed in Budapest, so much fun. September 2016, Backpacking Europe, my Journey-of-Self-Discovery Can I do this; can I keep my thinking positive and attract wonderful experiences on my journey?

[dreweric]

July 2016, Backpacking Europe, my Journey-of-Self-Discovery

Can I do this; can I live in the flow of life while backpacking Europe? 

Facebook, July 9—Drew— When you feel the sand beneath your feet shifting and sliding, keep moving forward your feet will find the flow of stability. 

I have been dreading this moment for the length of the Camino. I have avoided making new travel arrangements until the last moment.  My fear and anguish around figuring out how to use Google and then choosing a path, out of many, to get from Santiago, Spain to Amsterdam.

I know this sounds like a small task but for someone who hasn’t made travel arrangements form themselves, it’s huge. In my 20 year marriage, my husband enjoyed the research and booking. Since I was apathetic about it, I allowed him that simple pleasure. It also allowed me to limit my google use. I thought I was pretty good with the World Wide Web prior to this trip. However when I actually sat down to begin my journey, I realized my lack of experience translated into, “I really don’t know how the Google really works”. It’s a crash course for me now.

Finally on Friday, two days before leaving Santiago, I am sitting here reviewing options and coming up with the cheapest, easiest way to get there. Looks as if I’m going through Lisbon, Portugal.  Sunday, the day of the World Cup, finds Portugal and France in competition. Apparently, no one in Portugal is flying out during the match but me.

It amazes me, I spent hours upon hours over 32 days, dreading the action of finding transportation and it only took three hours to do so, albeit painful. This is an imbalanced experience I need not repeat, I should choose to live in the flow. Avoidance is always a clear sign of what I should tackle next for my own wellbeing.  But avoidance is not what this story is about.

This is a story about living in the flow (letting the Universe/God/Higher Power/Destiny take the lead). This is also a story about being comfortable with the unknown, trusting, and not letting fear stop my flow.

I struggled with the unknown and the fear that crept up every day on the Camino. I practiced living in the flow allowing minutes to pass, being present, no expectations and observing everything the Universe put on my path. It was a tremendously rewarding experience to be fearless and present for the unknown. It didn’t go well every day, but in the end, everyday was for my benefit, whether it was a good or an uncomfortable experience.

Now the Camino is over and I am saying my goodbyes to my Camino life and all the friends I have made along the path. This is hard, scary and profoundly emotional.

Facebook, July 9—Drew— leaving these men was the hardest part of leaving the Camino. I can’t remember feeling so much love in my heart. Crazy thing I felt loved by more than one man and they loved me right back, equally and openly. Until we are all together again in Canada, I love you all dearly. Tears of love feel so wonderful on my face.

Courtney— Making me cry. 

Drew— Cry everyday at least. Feeling is wonderful! 

Ray— Happy cries are cleansing. 

Luis— how are you my darling? U have been very emotional lately, you are a sweet soul !!! love you!!!!

  The rest of my journey is not planned in the slightest. The only concrete, “must do” item on the agenda is a flight from Amsterdam to Ireland on July 12th—three days from now—with a return flight two weeks later.  At the moment, I do have a flight back to America at the end of September but my plan is perhaps to change the flight, leaving my trip completely flow accessible.

On Saturday, I have located a bus that will take me to Portugal for a quick overnight then a flight to Amsterdam. Who would have thought, me, a single guy from South Florida with virtually no travel experience on my own, booking busses and flights around Europe. I also found a couch surfing host who offered a room for the night, so kind and helpful. I am so happy when it works out. I do hope this will be one of many kind people I meet on the road through Europe. If I put faith in the flow and trust that I am being shown the best path, I can be confident in knowing the Universe conspires for my benefit.

I once again find myself moving through the traveling experience that causes me much anxiety. Over the last month there was no thinking involved when making travel arrangements. You simply walked up to an albergue and asked for a bed. I look forward to the day I can move through airports, bus stations, trains and subways with the same ease, patience and peace, Until that day, I am a mess.

Facebook, July 9—Drew— I found the bus station, found the ticket booth, got my ticket printed, have fruit in my bag but no substantial food. I’m a little concerned about being hungry. Seven minutes till the bus leaves. All this makes me anxious. I can do this. It will all work out. 

Facebook, July 9—Drew— I am on the bus, I can start to relax. I missed one bus in Pamplona, remembering that is causing me fear today. I almost forgot to get my computer out of my bag that was put under the bus. I have a nine hour ride ahead of me. Since travel days are when I write that would have been a disaster. I choose peace over this!

Facebook, July 9—Drew— Goodbye Camino… Now I am officially complete as I bus out of Santiago. It’s a feeling of loss. I am letting go of an amazing life of living in the flow called “El Camino de Santiago.” I started on June 4th and I finished on July 6th. 

For 32 days I got up and walked, prayed, cried, meditated, talked, was silent, present, loved, controlled, bullied, angered, opened my heart, closed my heart, pushed people away, pulled people in, formed families, left families, felt pain, self evaluated, grew, withdrew, made friends, made enemies, forgave, let go of grudges, saw people in their space, accepted people in their space, acknowledged people who did not work for me, loved people who did work for me, was my best self, was my worst self, drank—sometimes a lot—felt like a kid, felt like an old man, I didn’t sleep much, lost weight, stopped eating meat that doesn’t swim, ate fruits and vegetables all the time. 

This trip changed me down to the bones, on a molecular level. I couldn’t have predicted this prior to walking. It was beyond my comprehension. My blog has been “Can I do this?” I now know I can do anything I put my heart and soul into. This is my official pronouncement. 

I am writing my first book, “My Autobiography!” my own “Eat Pray Love,” my own “Wild,” my own “Camino Adventure,” my own “Journey of Self Discovery”. I have an editor who will help me clean it up and fix some of the crappy mistakes that make me, Me. My writing is as flawed as I am and that’s great for me. I love Me and now I know who I am. Now I can write about who I was. Look for new pages soon.

Juan— Pretty interesting Drew. We all, one way or another have or do experience this, earlier or later. Some are not even aware of it. It seems that this journey is making you more aware of you and also others. The new you… until it also becomes the OLD you. And then you have to look again for that NEW you, just to become old again. It is a Journey. Now you know how to walk it. Good job and get going.

Sunny— Flaws can sometimes be our greatest characteristics. Your an inspiration. 

John— Drew, you gave us all seats on that bus. Thank you for an incredible journey.

Sherry— Drew- You have accomplished not only what you set out to do, but SO much more!!! 👏🏼 You have discovered what most of us already know about you… You are an amazing person inside and out!!! And you can do and be anything you want!!! Know you are loved dearly and encouraged to follow your dreams- all of them – whatever they are! 💞 👍🏼 👏🏼 Love you bunches my friend! 

Beverley— Wow just wow. I can’t wait to read your book! I loved being on this adventure with you even though it was from afar, it was so wonderful to watch the transformation. Treasure this time and keep it close to your heart.

Facebook, July 9—Drew— “Embrace uncertainty. Some of the most beautiful chapters in our lives won’t have a title until much later.” Power of Positivity 

So I just got present to the fact I am on a bus riding through Portugal going to Lisbon writing my book which will be made into a movie someday, crossing fingers. This is a very surreal feeling. So much to look forward to.

  Soon I will be meeting my second couch surfing host on this trip. I decided prior to leaving America that I would couch surf. Living in other people’s homes is an experience that leaves me vulnerable. This concept is scary, unknown and uncomfortable to say the least. I didn’t have an understanding what it’s like to live in stranger’s homes and I knew I would have to figure this out on the fly. My plan is to travel for an extended period through Europe, so with this in mind, keeping expenses down is the utmost priority.

Couch surfing is a website where you post a profile, like a personal ad and you are invited into someone’s home to share your time, adventure and your dynamic personality as your payment for a room/couch/bed. The homeowner makes the rules according to what they are comfortable with offering. Presumably you agree to their rules. This may or may not include any food, towels, laundry service and or simple coffee in the morning. All these details aren’t necessarily listed in their bio and you need to just figure out when you show up—so many unknowns.

I arrived at 9 p.m. and taxied to my couch surfing host. He’s a nice man and a tour guide in Lisbon, which is perfect for a couch surfing host. We chat, while he offers me a beer and half his pizza, very kind. I guess food and beer is included with this stay. Note to self, I should better prepare in the future by having a supply of food, just in case my hosts aren’t as generous with me. I should be a better Boy Scout. Be prepared!

I inquired “What’s nearby? I should see something before I leave in the morning.”

My host replies “Well there are no gay bars near, however, you could walk to the end of the street and see the bridge copied after the Golden Gate Bridge you have in America.”

Eventually he offers to take me on a car ride around the city and show me some sights. This is perfect because I have been celebrating (drunk) the last two nights in Santiago, I am really tired and would prefer a ride rather then walking around town.

On the ride I learned the city hired the same bridge builders used for the “Golden Gate Bridge” and it does look the same. It was a beautiful, comforting sight to see an American landmark in this far off land.

I am marveling at my manifesting. Such a great example of flow and I wonder will this same manifesting continue as I navigate the rest of my journey. I found a couch surfing host willing to put me up for one night. He offered food, a guided tour and sets me up in my own room, act of kindness for sure. Maybe I should start recording these acts of kindness.

After checking out the Lisbon sights, I went straight to bed. Set the alarm for 8 a.m., much earlier than my flight, just in case, to get a good start to my busy day.

I woke at 7a.m., dozed a little longer while waiting to hear my host scurry around the apartment to get ready for work, and then joined him in the kitchen. He offered me coffee which I gladly accepted.

I inquired “Is there a store nearby where I can pick up some food for my trip?”

He set me up with directions to the store, then at my request, called the taxi company with a pickup time for 10:45 a.m. My flight is at 1:20 leaving me two hours and 35 minutes to make my flight. I want to be prepared for any unusual, unforeseen problems. Then off to work he goes, leaving me a key to let myself in and out. Lisbon is working out very well for me.

Next I pop down to the store for tuna, bread, avocado, hard boiled eggs and fruit, plus a yogurt for breakfast. Eating in Europe is so different than home. As a gift for my host I bought a six-pack of beer, his brand, and spent six Euros. It’s a polite gift of thanks.

I finish packing, preparing my food and I’m ready to go. I plan on being downstairs by 10:30 for the taxi. I realize now the host is gone for the day, once I leave for the taxi I won’t be able to get back into his apartment. I have to triple check for my belongings prior to leaving the key inside and locking the door. The anxiety starts up.

The time has come to leave; I made the bed and cleaned all his dishes that were left about. I want to be a good surfer. I walked out the door at 10:31, perfect timing. I sent him a text, left his apartment and waited downstairs for the cab. In my mind I am reviewing all my belongings, where I put them, piecing together everything I packed.

I have everything. I finally give up due to the stress of making sure I have everything. I need to let it go and live in the flow—and trust.

The cabbie arrives on time however he doesn’t speak English. I say, “Aeropuerto”, which could be Spanish or Portuguese, I have no idea, I speak neither.

What did he say? I believe he ask “Which airport, one or two?

OH, F*CK ME! Exactly what I thought would happen—unusual, unforeseen problems. Is there more than one airport in Lisbon? I don’t know which airport it is, shit, shit, shit. Eventually, I realize he means which terminal because my email says “Terminal one”. Now I am panicking about all the things that can go wrong. For instance, I have a tall walking stick that I used on the Camino. I decided to cut it in half and strap it to my backpack prior to leaving the apartment, hoping security will let me take it on the plane.

As it turns out I am ok, it is Terminal one, I find my gate and check in. Now, at the counter, three women are deciding about my stick and eventually tell me to try going through security with what are now two sticks. Maybe making one weapon into two weapons was a bad idea. Last thing I’m told is to read the boards for my gate once I’m through security.

I’m thinking, “What the hell does that mean. Don’t they know the gate where the flight will depart?” Panic, panic, panic! Not realizing until later that I am so early they haven’t marked the gate yet. (I get snippy when stressed, not my best trait)

TSA security calls over the senior TSA security agent to let decide if I am using my walking stick—with my mother’s ashes tied on the handle—as a weapon on the plane. I explain El Camino de Santiago, walking and my mother’s ashes.

He asked “Why did I cut the stick”?

I replied “I didn’t think I could get a 4′ waking stick on the plane”.

He said. “Have a nice flight.”

Wow, good thing I am almost two hours early, whew. I’m through security and now waiting near the board to find out where my gate is. I’m calmer now. I would say I am getting a tiny bit better at this travel stuff, and if I keep at it, maybe, just maybe I will reach slightly better, then someday somewhat better.

Anxiety is still high but leaving plenty of time really helps my stress. I realize now, anxiety/stress are the opposite of living in the flow. Maybe I can’t do this travel thing, I’m so conflicted.

  Facebook, July 10—Drew— Today, flight day, all is well, let’s see how my journey to Amsterdam goes, wish me luck. 

  While waiting in the terminal for my flight, I decide to have some comfort food and a beer, maybe two. As the beer washes my insides, I peruse Facebook in an effort to calm my nerves. It works. Alcohol is a great way to reduce anxiety. Why didn’t I do this before, maybe I could just drink alcohol all day and night, that makes so much sense now. Facebook is doing the trick also; I am smiling again and chuckling at photos of friends back in America.

Facebook, July 10—Drew— When I feel insecure or sad or scared I read the comments on Facebook and I feel better. Thanks Facebook friends. You know who you are.

Kitty—  ❤ so proud of you Drew, and happy for you! This is an amazing experience! I have had a much smaller, but in its own was scary journey to find my perfect home. Now that it’s done, the next big joy will be for us to engage in some travel. I hope to get back to Europe and other places, I will carry the choice to stay open to everything from your example. In fact, it’s a way to walk through even a regular old day at home  🙂 Thank you for sharing all this with your friends.  

Anne— Move forward and conquer! 

Lin— We love you , I think what you are doing takes courage , there’s many people out there that couldn’t do what you are doing right now, I’m proud of you Drew  

Christopher— Hang in there Drew, what an amazing experience this is for you and for everyone is who is following and supporting you on your adventure and of ones self.

Tamara— What a beautiful journey you are on… Stay true to yourself… And better yet find a piece of yourself you didn’t know about… And then love and accept it… So happy for you!

Cindy— So proud of you! I wish I would have the guts to do something like you’re doing. Keep on going you are growing so much,and learning so much about yourself! So happy for you! Love you!

  I wonder what Amsterdam will be like? A girlfriend from college, who along with her family, offered me a place to stay prior to leaving America so that I can practice sleeping in other people’s homes. She also set me up with her sister in Amsterdam as another couch surfing host. It seems to work out for me thus far.

Facebook, July 10—Drew— I was just informed after I arrive on my flight, I will get on a boat and explore Amsterdam from the canals. My life is that cool and amazing things are happening for me. 

Facebook, July 10—Drew added photos— I just landed and look at me now, someone pinch me. I am sitting on a balcony, overlooking the canals of Amsterdam, this is so cool. 

Sally— Kelly and Alexander are fantastic hosts. Enjoy! Love you! 

Dror— You are an amazing man. I enjoy very much reading your daily journal. I am touched by your openness and sincerity.

Ruben— Now you have memories that no one can take away! 

  It is hard to believe my eyes, a boat, canals, bridges, all while listening to my host point out all the landmarks from the water.

“Look, there is the Anne Frank Huis,” she said. These are the seven bridges of Amsterdam.

Look down the center, from this point you can see through all seven bridges. It makes a great photo,” she continued.

  Facebook, July 11—Drew— My boat ride yesterday in Amsterdam was breathtaking. Thanks to Kelly and her family. I really resisted crying in front of them. I was so overwhelmed with love and beauty. God, I love my life, not a bad first day in a new country. 

  Once the canal rides ˈfiniSHt (finished in Dutch) we drove back to their home to find the belongings that I had when I started the Camino in France. I was informed by my host that the box looked intact. This made me happy since I have my camera in there along with more clothes. I have been wearing the same five items of clothing for the past several weeks now. Oh, to have fashion choices again after so long.

I only have a couple of days in the Netherlands. I started the Camino a week late while waiting for a new phone to replace the one I lost the first day of my trip in Barcelona. If I could have had more time in this city I would definitely have chosen to stay longer. Just to be able to drink in the culture and feel the energy of Amsterdam.

Facebook, July 11—Drew— I made it to the train to Amsterdam. I’m getting so much better at this, maybe. 

Beverley— You’re a pro now! 

Darcy— Practice makes perfect! 

  Today, my second and last day in the Netherlands, I am off to explore the city. My host lives in a city named Haarlem on the outskirts of Amsterdam just a short train ride away. The name reminds me of New York’s Harlem and after a quick Google search I find out it is named after this Dutch City. My plan is to walk about town, visit the Van Gogh Museum and definitely see the Anne Frank House. I know it’s a short trip but I want to squeeze out as much of the experience as I can.

Facebook, July 11—Drew— I think I found the red light district. Haven’t seen that before. I was looking at a leaning building then looked down into the windows and saw the window display and she moved. WOW! 

Peter— Bingo! 

Courtney— Have you been to a coffee shop? 

Drew— No, not enough time. 

Corey— Yay. I wish I could meet you at a coffee shop…

Facebook, July 11—Drew checked in to Van Gogh Museum— I love Van Gogh, he is my favorite.

Ann— Vinny is the bomb! 

Corey— So weird cause my friend from L.A. was there the same day. I love Van Gogh. Hope it was an amazing day.

  The first time I saw a Van Gogh painting I was moved to tears. It was in Washington, DC in the late ‘90s. I believe the painting was one of his series on sunflowers in a vase. That same summer is when the Van Gogh museum was being remodeled, If I remember correctly, many of his works from the museum were on an American tour. This was my second time seeing some of the collection. I am in awe.

Incidentally, the only time I lived outside the state of Florida was the 7 months my husband and I lived in DC. Our stay lasted from spring to fall, it was beautiful to see the city come alive and bloom then change colors in the fall. My only hope is this trip last longer then my DC stay so I can say, “The longest I have lived outside of the state of Florida is the ___ time I spent in Europe.”

While finishing up at the museum I decide to go on Grindr to see if any locals were interested in entertaining a tourist. I did get a message from an American living here. I shared where I was and he offered to show me his art collection when I was done with Van Gogh. “What the hell, I am on vacation, sure, sounds good.” After my tour of the museum I went in search of his apartment to make a new friend and share some wine-enhanced quality time.

Facebook, July 11—Drew— I just met a really nice younger man in Amsterdam. We shared wine and great conversation. He is a self-described art collector. To me it looked more like art HOARDING. Art was everywhere in his flat. So much so it was stacked on the floor. The art was out of this world. One piece was an 8′ rubber newborn baby girl, with the expression of screaming on her face, a bit terrifying. He had a chandelier so big it was lifted with a crane into the backyard then brought in. That was a great connection. Maybe my new adventure won’t be a lonely one. On the way to the Anne Frank House I met a girl and we talked for a long time. I told her all about my book. I will work hard at staying in the flow of traveling and let people come into my life. I like this travel thing so far, it suits me.

Michelle— Omg you look so beautiful and happy. Ty Universe. Let’s do this. I’m coming on the next one w u. U should have it down by then love. Happy travels, exploring new peeps, embracing where ur at and letting go of familiarity. Love #StrongestPersonIknow

Ron— You look so handsome and enlightened. You really do ! You are really giving us a great history lesson . Much love to you . Ron

    Next up, Anne Frank. I have read the “Diary of Anne Frank” a couple of times so this is an exciting moment for me now. While waiting in the long line I can hear the bell chime. I remember from her diary she could hear the bell from her secret hiding place. My host shared in Amsterdam they built houses behind houses. So the front house was obstructing the view of the back house. She called them Hinder Houses, which is where Anne Frank hid.

The museum was entered through a secret passageway in a bookcase making the experience real for all the tourists who were crawling through. The space was small, empty and difficult to envision their life. There was a model and photos of how it could have been arranged with furniture and belongings which was an attempt to help us see how it was. Regardless, it was deeply moving to be walking the halls and knowing all that transpired in those upsetting days. 

Facebook, July 11—Drew added new photos— I was in the Anne Frank home today, she wrote in her diary the following: “Last night the four of us went down to the private office and listened to England on the wireless, I was so scared.” June 11th, 1942. That’s today, I am stunned and humbled! 

Facebook, July 11—Drew added a photo at Anne Frank House Amsterda— I long to ride a bike, dance, whistle, look at the world, feel young and know that I’m free. Anne Frank 24 December 1943 – I feel free in this place. 

  When I was returning to the train station after my tour of Amsterdam, I noticed just how many bikes were chained up outside the station. It was a shocking number of bikes. So many you could hardly imagine that many bike owners. I did hear some residents have several bikes depending on what they need them for at the time, casual to the more expensive and the advance bike. Even some bikes are specifically owned and used just in case they get stolen, geen probleem (no big deal).

  Facebook, July 11—Drew added new photos— They LOVE BIKES here. How do they find theirs? “kerel waar is mijn fiets”(dude, where’s my bike)

Kitty— I know!!! I went at age 14, would love to go again and see it as an adult and most of all, do a tour on a bike! 

Jorge— I remember being shocked at guys in suits commenting by bike. 

Peter— They look really good flying with their ties flapping behind them. 

Drew— And girls in dresses. 

  That evening while back at home in Haarlem, I searched the internet looking for lodging in Ireland. Hostels are always an option if I don’t find a couch surfing host. Finding lodging and making travel arrangements is turning out to be a full time job.

Facebook, July 12—Drew— Ok I am getting anxious again. Today I fly to Ireland and I don’t have a place to stay. I have been on the couch surfing website and haven’t gotten a confirmation. There are several hostels in the area so I don’t think I will have a problem with that as a backup. Basically I arrive in Dublin, have to figure out how to get downtown, walk around finding hostels and move in for a few days. I feel the sand beneath my feet shifting and moving. Now I have to get to the airport, get through all that stuff and get on the plane. So many moving parts. I can get better at this. I will be in Ireland for two weeks and this will give me some time to better prepare for the rest of my journey. I am purposely not planning my trip so I can live in the flow and trust that all will work out. I don’t even have a sweater or jacket; I will need to find an H&M straight off or a thrift store. It’s colder than expected.

Michael— The sand is always shifting. Now you’re better at balancing. 

Laurie— Well at the very least you Look AMAZING! And you are shaving? I expected a full on grizzly bear beard. I have tons of jackets and sweaters. Just tell me where to send them! I Love you. Keep on Shining my Beautiful Friend.

Richard— I went to Dublin airport in 2001, there are regular shuttle buses into the city centre directly outside the airport building, I think it takes about a half hour into the city, I didn’t see much of Dublin apart from the bus journey as I only went to Dublin to catch a train from Dublin to Galway. Regarding a jumper or sweater, there are two Penney’s stores in Dublin where you will definitely get sorted out. I wish I knew someone in Dublin who I could ask to put you up but I am positive you won’t have a problem.

Drew— Thanks for the shuttle info. Facebook is so helpful…

Brenda— Ok stop worrying. First a bus will take you into city centre from airport. There are few hostels in city. Second, go into Penny’s on O’Connell Street very cheap get anything you want and just enjoy my home town. You will love Ireland, get into the country on cheap rail and buses gets you around. Enjoy, I am jealous, wish I had got home to see my son’s and grandkids. 

Frank— You look so content, it will come together! 

Ken— Worry is a misuse of imagination. I see you going through all these changes with ease & joy. Meeting wonderful people all along the way. The Irish are very friendly. Enjoy.

Marcus—You will conquer these obstacles… 

Facebook, July 12—Drew— So I have figured out that leaving the warmth of a loving home and safe place is difficult for me. Leaving safety for the unknown makes my ego-mind reconsider my adventure. I am sure I will get better at this, that’s why I am on this journey. But that doesn’t make today any easier. Kelly and her family are the kindest people ever to welcome me into their home and give so much love and kindness to me, a stranger. I love them. Thanks Sally for setting us up. Act of Kindness. 

Scott— To take chances of the unknown, it’s challenging… Keep going just to see what’s out there… Because you never know when you’re in your older years you will wish you had done something about it.

Oya— Enjoy the Journey. I am so proud of you. You are full of love and that’s what you will always receive.  

Anthony— The biggest fear for anyone is the unknown. You have faced that fear time and time again and that conquered it. Never give up faith in yourself. You are taking the expression ” Life is about the journey, not the destination” and made it true.

Martha— the thrill of adventure… history… every step you take someone from a longtime ago stood in that exact place… oh when in Ireland, respect the little folk (fairies)… they are quite a force still in Ireland. Peace and may light show you the way to your next stop. Love,Martha

    One of the many items I brought on this trip (to many) were my art pastels and pastel paper. Since I graduated from Ringling College (art school not the clown school) I thought I would try my hand at creating art again. As a thank you to my kind host, I created an original pastel using their garden as my subject. Before I left America I did a practice piece to work out the kinks. Now this second pastel is making me just as nervous. I haven’t been on the “art” bicycle in a long time, I am not sure if I will remember how to ride it. Since the Netherlands loves their bikes, I should at least try.

Facebook, July 12—Drew checked in at Amsterdam Airport Schiphol— Ireland here I come. 

Facebook, July 12—Drew— I made it all the way to the gate, now, a beer 🙂 Next stop, Dublin, Ireland. Find a hostel and I’m done, safe in a new country. Crossing fingers.

Sherry— You are now a pro traveler Drew! 🙂 

Kitty— You got this Drew! 

  As I sit in the airport sipping my beer, I am reflecting on the past four days. They seem like a week. I was in Spain, Portugal and the Netherlands, now I’m off to Ireland. When I was separating from my husband 18 months ago, I never imagined this for myself. I never could have dreamed that sad day would pass. Nor could I have dreamed in less than two years I would be traveling the world, solo.

I am the same person who never made travel arrangements throughout my marriage. I resisted using Google, instead relying on my husband to do all the work. Thinking he enjoyed it, I let him do it and thus save me the trouble. I was wrong for many reasons. I realize now how codependent I was, never doing anything by myself and resisting doing basic life responsibilities in an attempt to make my life easier. As I reflect today, I needed the practice. I am sure he would have appreciated my taking on the task occasionally. Actually, I am very sure he would have. Open note to my ex-husband, “I’m sorry, I should have done more in our marriage”.

Now I am taking on this task—what I now consider my new full-time job. I instinctively knew when I left America I would get the necessary training I needed to bring me up to speed on life. I am getting a crash course.

I am learning how to live in the flow of life, knowing “Trust would settle every problem, now.” — A Course in Miracles.

This powerful quote was on the phone that I lost and has been my motto on this journey. I might not always see how the Universe is conspiring on my behalf, but I do feel it.

Can I do this, can I live in the flow of life while backpacking Europe? I guess I can because, hey, I am doing it. TRUST!

Can I live in the flow of life while backpacking Europe? Journey of self discovery 2016 July 2016, Backpacking Europe, my Journey-of-Self-Discovery Can I do this; can I live in the flow of life while backpacking Europe? 

[dreweric]

July 2016, El Camino de Santiago, My Journey-of-Self-Discovery

Can I do this, can I finish the Camino and stop the pain?

#Metoo —More than ten years ago activist Tarana Burke created #Metoo using MySpace-with the intention for people to boldly declare empowerment through empathy: I’m not alone and I’m not ashamed of being a victim of harassment and/or assault. This is my story.

Facebook, June 29 —Drew— 

You can never predict what Life has in store for you. The Path is indirect with unimaginable twists and turns. The Way is laden with rocks, roots and loose gravel to trip you up, causing injury or, fine grains of sand, tiny little stones with pretty little flowers that brush your pants. Yesterday was roots, today it’s flowers. Tomorrow is unknown.

  I just walked away from my Band of Brothers and joined a new Camino family. I spent so many days with my brothers walking, talking, sharing and generally loving those men. Then, a new guest walked in and disrupted the cohesiveness of our small, intimate group creating a sexual tension between her and one of my brothers. I chose to walk away and rejoin my British family.

Now I am back with the Brits and my prince in bright clothes who gave me a safe space and an invitation to walk with his gaggle of birds.

Facebook, June 29—Drew shared Positive energy+’s photo—

I am learning to trust the journey even if I do not understand it. 

  I have already shared my story about my “Prince in bright clothes” and my “Band-of-Brothers”. This is a new story on the conclusion of my Camino. This is what happened over the last seven days and 200 km of walking (124 miles). This is not a happy ending. Not all stories have one…

I had envisioned my last few days on the Camino much differently. I dreamed about walking into Santiago with all my beautiful best friends—all the people I had gotten to know and had grown to love. From that first day, each and every person I met I wondered, “Are you the one? Will I be walking into Santiago with you?”

El Camino de Santiago(The way to Santiago) is a 800 km (500 mile) pilgrimage through northern Spain. People join the pilgrimage for different reasons—Spiritual growth (which is my personal pilgrimage), religious reasons, physical exercise and the popular, no reasons in particular.

Facebook, June 29—Drew shared Positive energy+’s photo—

You never realize how strong you are until strong is your only choice. 

  The Brit asked me “What was your earliest sexual experience?”

“Hmmm” I replied. “I was pretty young, maybe 5 or 6, with a boy. I assume we were playing truth or dare—all I remember is the dare now—and he dared me to kiss his thing. I do remember the smell, it was a little pungent, the beginnings of a young boy having smells down there. The whole experience was scary, confusing, exciting and gave me butterflies in my stomach. The game was under a sheet in our bedroom with a flashlight while our parents were in the living room.”

I continued talking, “When I was in 4th grade, another boy showed me how to pull on my thing. He told me it feels really good when you do this as he demonstrated. I was very nervous and didn’t want to do it. He encouraged me till I did. It was really early for me, I wasn’t even thinking about sex at that time, I was so young. I am not even sure I was in puberty yet. This continued for many years, escalating until we were having oral sex on a regular basis”.

As we were walking through the woods on a small dirt path, I said all this to the Brit with a very, matter of fact detachment. The sun was peeking through the trees and it felt like it was just the two of us in the world. So we ran off into the bushes and did the same.

Facebook, June 29—Drew shared Positive energy+’s photo— 

Don’t give up now. Chances are your best kiss, your hardest laugh, and your greatest day are still yet to come – Atticus

Facebook, June 29—Drew— 

The Way has plans I am not aware of. Every day I wake up expecting the Way to tell me something new. The Way tells me about whom I will see and who I will be with and what I will say. It’s not up to me. I live in the flow of the Way.

  The Brit told me about his first experience although he wasn’t nearly as young. He also shared his mother is a Psychotherapist. I already knew he is very intuitive. Perhaps he gets that from his mother.

We started talking about our childhood and I told him mine was pretty unconventional. My relationship with my mother wasn’t filled with boundaries. For example, I told him about the first time I had sex with a girl when I was 15.

“It was the summer I moved out of my father’s home—where I had been living for the past seven years—and moved to Fort Lauderdale area with my mother and her long-term boyfriend. There was a girl in the apartment complex that was staying with her grandmother. We met, went on a date then back to my room. My mother and her boyfriend were sleeping in the bedroom next door.”

“I was old enough to know exactly what I wanted to accomplish in my first sexual experience with a girl. I had a checklist of positions in mind and accomplished all of them over a couple of hours. I was well versed on a variety of positions. I might have been a surprise for her since she had experience and I didn’t.” I continued.

“Then I asked her if she was willing to try a vibrator. She agreed and I crawled into my mother’s room—naked— and took her vibrator out of her bottom draw in her nightstand while she slept. I brought it back in the room and plunged it in. It was a Sear’s back massager with the ball head. Once it was plugged in, I aimed for my date.” I said.

Continuing, “The next morning after my date was long gone; I came bopping down the hall into the kitchen with a satisfied, perky facial expression.

First thing my mother said was, “You got laid!” I was caught. How did she know?

She grabbed her 16-ounce Pepsi, Egg McMuffin and her Eve lights Slim 120 cigarettes and headed for the couch for a long discussion on the details of my coming of age. I shared every detail, leaving—crawling on all fours and naked into her bedroom—for last. She got visibly angry with me, which surprised me a little.

She said, “You get up right now and wash my vibrator, then you return it to where you found it”. I felt like her anger was more for show, I thought I saw her smirk while lighting an Eve.

Once the washing up was complete, I rejoined my mother for cigarettes and Pepsi and continued. We talked about how it felt and what I thought about sex. Somehow we got on the subject of anal sex and she told me, “Don’t knock it till you try it, it’s not that bad”.

Even at my young age of 15, I heard that statement and instinctively knew, “file that baby away for later, you just heard a line from your mother you will never forget”. Clearly, I never did,

I shared all this with my new friend on the Camino, Along with a few other details about the boundary-less relationship with my mother.

“Yea, my upbringing wasn’t exactly normal, but it was normal for me. Oh yea, and my baby sitter was a pedophile. I knew it and my mother knew it. He was her gay neighbor and good friend who just happened to have a thing for young boys.” I said casually.

She told me, she told him, “If you ever touch my son I will cut your dick off!”

“I was probably between eight and ten years old at the time”. I blurted this out with little to no reaction from me or him and we kept walking like this was as normal as talking about the first time I rode a bike.

Friday, July 1—Drew added new photos—

Sunrise on the mountain

Facebook, July 1—Drew— 

Yesterday morning was a different start.

Facebook, July 1—Drew— 

Good morning world!

Facebook, July 1—Drew— 

Sometimes you must go backwards in order to walk forward. Today I am walking two hours along the path in which I came. Changing families for an extra day on the Camino. I have taken a well needed identity break for the last four days. Checking back in with my natural self. My safe place, my comfort place, my place of home. I left the Camino world. Now I am adding one more day to be with my men.

  I rejoined my Band of Brothers to complete some unfinished business. I still have approximately eight days left till we reached Santiago and I am optimistic. I am also wondering, of the many people on the Camino that I love, who would have the privilege to walk into Santiago with me.

Facebook, July 2—Drew added new photos—

Back with my men. 141,314 kilometers to go. I love this life.

Facebook, July 2—Drew— 

Lunch time. Empanadas and beer.

Facebook, July 2—Drew added new photos— 

So I am with a bunch of Germans watching football/soccer in a bar in Spain. Germany and Italy are playing. I am this cool. This is my life. Camino/friends/football. I love my life.

Facebook, July 2—Lin— 

I’m glad you are having so much fun, you deserve it

Facebook, July 3—Drew— 

About 115 km left. This will be over soon. And my new life off the Camino will begin. A new adventure, new people, new sites, new feelings. I will be in the unknown.

Facebook, July 3—Drew checked in at Casa Barbadelo— 

I am enjoying beer at the pool. Life is hard on the Camino. But I can do this!!!

Facebook, July 4—Drew added new photos at Casa Cruceiro—

We are 100 km to Santiago. What a thrill! What an accomplishment! What a journey!

Facebook, July 4—Drew added new photos—

Life moves pretty fast, if you don’t stop and look around once In a while you could MISS IT!!!

Facebook, July 4—Drew— 

I have been struggling the last several days with emotions, attachments, fear of separation and worthiness. Today I am making another decision that is painful but is best for my wellbeing. Keep me in your thoughts.

What I want most I cannot have. What I most want to avoid I must face.

  After a couple of days I completed what I needed to complete with my Band of Brothers, knowing that walking into Santiago with them wasn’t going to happen. Sadly, I walked away.

Facebook, July 5—Drew— 

So today is a fantastic day. I stood my ground, faced my fears and walked away from people I love. Just for a couple of days till I see them again when the Camino is complete for us all. But I needed to feel the freedom of the road, on my own. Well at least for a couple hours. 

I got up at 4:00 a.m. and walked in the pitch dark. After some morning time of solitude, I walked upon a new pilgrim. He is Danish, 25 years old, and an American political expert. So we spent the darkness that changed into dawn, talking about the state of affairs in the U.S. Wonderful intelligent man and a fast walker. 

At 7:15 I finally arrived at my friend’s albergue. Luckily he was getting a late start to his day and was still there. It took me three hours to walk 13.5 kilometers. Today will be my longest walk ever at 40 kilometers. It’s lunch now, I’m having a beer and octopus which is the specialty. I love my friends. 

Facebook, July 5—Drew— 

I just finished my longest walk, 40 kilometers with four hours sleep. Basically I went in reverse a few days ago to complete unfinished business with my band of brothers. Once this was completed I followed my intuition and chose to move forward to reconnect with my British family. I know, it’s complicated. Now that I am reaching the end of my pilgrimage, I am realizing my journey has been about connection. I have learned to meet, attach, then separate with ease and love. I am getting really good at it. I follow my intuition and I am very happy. 

This morning I sent my backpack ahead because I chose to walk 40 Kilometers. However I sent it to the wrong city. I sent it to the city where my friends were staying not where my friends were going, ugh. Apparently I must learn to attach and separate from my own minimal belongings. 

I love the Camino life. Another first, I challenged being uncomfortable and wore my purple tights. There are many men just joining the Camino these last few days, wearing tights, presumably Italians from their looks. I was too chicken to wear them before, but these last couple days I said yes to the tights. Funny thing is, I can’t change out of them since they are the only clothes I have.

  My Prince in bright clothes and I quickly fell back into conversations we so enjoyed during our previous walk together a few days ago. This time we went a little deeper and I exposed more about my unusual upbringing.

However, this time it sounded different. This time I heard what I was saying in a new way. It hit me like a dead branch falling from the forest above and I finally realized, “This is Not ok. My childhood was Not ok”.

I shared with the Brit what happened to me sometime in the 70’s: One day the pedophile encouraged “naked day”. Which meant he and his boyfriend and I spent the day naked. I was very uncomfortable. The house was a small, dirty, wood frame, shotgun house with a dirty worn-out mattress in the entranceway where the boyfriend slept. The pedophile slept in the bedroom between the living room and bathroom, I still remember the way the house smelled of cigarettes, beer and acrid B.O. from the two of them.

I was a young, confused pre-puberty boy who would later grow up to be a gay man. So the second time we had “naked day” I encouraged it because there was another older teen-aged boy in the house who I thought was cool, (my code for finding him cute). He was a street boy the pedophile found somewhere and was giving him some money to hang around, I guess. He had a girlfriend, not present the day we had naked day. I remember that he and his girlfriend both had orange stained, upper lips from huffing brake fluid off a rag. They would put the liquid stained rag on their upper lip just under their nose and huff the vapors.

I remember telling my mom, Gary (the pedophile) wants me to sleep naked, in bed with him on the nights I sleep over. I don’t want to sleep naked. I want to sleep with my underwear on. She told me I could sleep with my underwear on if that’s what I want and she said I will tell Gary that I said so.

This isn’t when I realized my childhood was fucked up. Not when I shared all the stuff I just shared. That was normal for me. I didn’t think any of it was unusual. It was when I told my prince about the photographs. That’s when I realized.

When I was twenty-three years old my mother was clearing out her memorabilia and giving each kid their belongings. When I showed up and I received my box of goods she handed me a three inch stack of photographs, tied together with a thick rubber band. I asked, “What’s this?”

She replied, “When Gary died I got these from his stuff. They are pictures of you when you were a kid. He took them.

I started glancing through the pictures, a bit shocked, seeing a little boy in underpants, asleep in a tangle of sheets. The photos were taken over different occasions and in different positions but all the same, a sleeping little boy, in Fruit-of-The-Looms.

Again, this didn’t seem weird to me at the time, back when I was in my twenties. But today, on the Camino, telling my friend about the photos, I finally heard my story differently. “Oh My GOD, This is FUCKED UP! I said. I started to cry right there.

Then I realized how messed up my mom was. She screwed up in so many ways. Sending me and my brothers to a sexually charged, pedophile to take care of us when we were sick and in need of a babysitter. Receiving child porn photographs of one of her children and saving these photographs. Then, giving child porn photographs of me, to me, in my early twenties while she was clearing out her belongings, like I just got the family Bible and some photos from my baptism. What the fuck was she thinking? And I normalized it, passed it off as nothing more than my unusual childhood.

The Brit replied, “I was waiting for you to realize this wasn’t ok. When you started telling me this stuff a few days ago I didn’t understand why you weren’t seeing it.”

I cried for a few minutes and he held and comforted me. Eventually my crying subsided, I wiped my tears and we continued walking. I wanted to walk away from the pain like I always had. All the while I felt this heaviness, knowing, I have more work to do, this isn’t over.

Later in the day we arrived at our albergue. I thought “This isn’t going well”. I am feeling needy, scared and in pain from the last couple of days. I have no belongings and my friends don’t seem to be volunteering any assistance to get me through the night. The blankets have all been handed out and it’s a little cool out tonight. My clothes are wet from when I washed them and put them back on after my shower.

My prince hasn’t volunteered any supplies or assistance with my needs and after drinking just a bit too much beer, he seemed combative with me. I am at a loss.

When the evening was over we all went to our rooms and climbed in our bunks. I was laying there alone, cold with no sleeping bag or sheets. Finally my prince gave me one of his T-shirts, I layered it onto my slightly damp clothes. I desperately wanted to be warm and held and comforted. I thought, “Why don’t I craw up to the Brit’s bunk and cuddle for a bit, warm up and return to my bunk later”. I joined him and we snuggled, I was warm.

I placed my hand on his crotch and he got hard. I scooted down under the sleeping bag while we were pretending to be asleep in the shared room. He came quickly. I crawled out of his sleeping bag and went back to my bunk without ever saying a word.

Wait, I don’t feel better, I feel worse. What did I just do? I feel dirty. What just happened? Then it hit me, I just reenacted my childhood sexual behavior.

I secretively carried on an unhealthy friendship with one of the boys from my childhood, for many years. We would take turns pretending to be asleep, encouraging each other to essentially, molest the other, all in an effort to resist the truth of what we really wanted. Instead we lived this shameful, secretive lie.

I couldn’t sleep. I tossed and turned and shivered most of the night, sleeping maybe a couple hours. Replaying all that happened that day, that evening and how I essentially just molested my friend in this bunk in a room full of sleeping pilgrims.

I woke just after 5:00 a.m. and laid in my bunk turning the horrific events in my mind. I jumped out of bed and grabbed my belongings. I needed to get out of there.

I woke my friend and told him, “I gotta go; I will see you later in the day.” And out the door I went.

Facebook, July 6—Drew shared Heart Centered Rebalancing photo—

If you want to be strong, learn to enjoy being alone.

  I wasn’t out the door five minutes before I started crying. Dawn was just peeking over the horizon, birds were just starting their songs and dew was on the ground, quenching the plants and animals. I wanted to run, fast and hard.

Step by step I walked. I was walking out of a village and into the between land. There are no businesses, homes or people on the road. I was all alone and able to cry openly and hard. I kept running through everything that happen to me.

—I was sexualized too early by two boys before I was ready.

—I carried on a long, inappropriate relationship with a boy that was based on secrecy and molestation.

—My mother placed me in the home of a known pedophile to babysit me.

—The pedophile’s home was an uncomfortable, sexually charged space that was confusing for me at a very young age.

—Said pedophile encouraged naked day.

—Said pedophile took pictures of me sleeping in my underwear.

—My mother kept child porn photographs of me.

—My mother gave my child porn photographs of me, to me.

On and on I walked and cried. I was walking hard, slamming my feet on the ground causing new blisters to form and physical pain in my legs and feet. I couldn’t stop. I kept thinking I need this pain to stop. But it didn’t stop, it continued for five hours.

I felt the urge to expel my pain. I felt the urge to remove it from my chest. I felt the urge to post it on Facebook.

Facebook, July 6—Drew— 

I’m feeling pretty sad today. I didn’t sleep well. I didn’t have my backpack so I was cold. I couldn’t charge my phone or brush my teeth. Yesterday I faced some pretty hard shit. In my childhood my mother left me in the care of someone who put me at risk. Yesterday I finally realized how bad that was for me and it was wrong. I need to forgive my mother. This is hard. I have 2 days left on the Camino and I’m scared and in pain.

  Wow, what a relief. Once I expelled the pain and posted on Facebook, my crying started to trickle. Slowly but surely my pace slowed a bit and my heart rate began to normalize. I could breathe again. People were begging to show up on my path. The Camino was coming back to life and I was rejoining the living, the pilgrims.

Facebook, July 6—Drew added new photos— 

I’m realizing so much. I woke up scared and confused. I am being flooded with realizations. Clarity is coming so fast. I am walking so fast. Yesterday I walked 40 kilometers with the intention of finishing the Camino on Thursday, one day earlier than expected. Today, Wednesday I have only 40 kilometers in total to finish. I have been questioning who I would walk into Santiago with. Who has earned the right to walk by my side into Santiago? That person was with me the whole time. I have posted many pictures of him. My shadow has earned the privilege to be my companion today. My shadow has always been there each and everyday. I will finish this Camino today. I need to put the pain behind me. I need to put the Camino behind me.

  It’s midday now and I am only 20 km to Santiago. In my mind I tie my pain with the Camino. I decide if I finish the Camino I can stop the pain, the personal growth and stop the self evaluation that is so difficult today. I decide to keep walking till I complete this shit. I need to finish, I need it to stop, I need it to be over.

Once back among people and after my Facebook post, realizations started flooding me. Like the string art Lucite lamps from the ‘70s, I began to tie the pieces of my life together. I slowly saw how my early sexualization and behaviors tied my life together with one continuous thread. How each individual act in my childhood impacted my life as I lived it.  As each notch in the Lucite got closer to finishing the sculpture, that is my life, I clearly saw the finished product. I didn’t like it.

—The way my mother raised me without boundaries—how we talked about everything. This showed up for me, by not having the ability to understand what appropriate conversation was and what wasn’t. I turned many people off with my uncontrollable mouth.

—My having a loveless, secretive relationship as a child showed back up with casual loveless sex with strangers.

—How a childhood where I struggled with friendships and sex continued as a struggle in my adult years with friendships and sex, many times with my confusing the two.

—How I took drugs, drank alcohol, had casual loveless sex and ate my emotions rather then face them.

Each time I walked by a Camino mile marker I counted down thinking its almost over. Then I decided to post my realizations on Facebook. Knowing it wouldn’t necessarily make sense but I needed to expel my emotions. They have been tied to me for so many years, hidden in those places we dare not look.

Facebook, July 6—Drew posted a picture—

I can do this! I can finish the Camino today!

Facebook, July 6—Drew posted a picture—

My babysitter was a pedophile! I can do this! I can finish the Camino today!

Facebook, July 6 —Drew posted a picture—

My mother gave me a 3 inch stack of photos of a boy, asleep in his little boy underwear. ME! I can do this! I can finish the Camino today!

Facebook, July 6—Drew posted a picture—

I just realized I am walking into Santiago with my shadow and with all my friends following my journey here on Facebook. Thank you! Thank you! Thank you! Please cheer me on today, as I am crying my way into Santiago. I can do this! I can finish the Camino today!

Facebook, July 6—Drew shared a photo— 

We are all broken, that’s how the light gets in — Ernest Hemingway 

Facebook, July 6—Drew—

I finished. This was pretty difficult, physically and emotionally. I still don’t have my bag. Hoping it’s at the last albergue which I am taking a cab to. My shadow and I finished together. I don’t understand why I had to finish today I just felt pulled to get it done. Hoping the learning and growing would also be complete, we shall see. I am going backwards for the third time now. I do not know why or what will come of it. I just know I must go back again because my backpack is behind me.

  That evening when I met my Brits and my prince, they were warm and comforting. This time they fed me, clothed me and gave me toothpaste. (I hadn’t brushed my teeth in two days).

My prince was very concerned and I explained the best I could what happened for me, he understood. That night I was able to let my troubles go in a glass of Spanish wine. I slept better but not great.

Facebook, July 7—Drew added new photos— 

I went backwards again. I am waiting outside Santiago for my backpack. Once it’s here I will taxi up and meet my friends, the Brits, to walk the last 10k, again. This time with loving people to share the experience. Yesterday’s arrival I was pretty cried out, in pain, exhausted and hungry. Today’s arrival will be a celebration with my friends. That makes me happy. Sometimes in life we actually get a redo. My shoes are really shot.

Facebook, July 7—Drew added new photos— 

Not only can I do this but I can do it twice.

Facebook, July 8—Drew at Catedral De Santiago De Compostela – Espanha— 

I’m feeling a real sense of accomplishment today. Feeling better about completing the Camino and transitioning back into the semi-real world of emails, bank accounts, bills, wiring money and all. Taking time out to accomplish travel plans has been a burden these past three weeks, I was avoiding. I finally sat down yesterday and worked it out, it took several hours. Along with getting on couchsurfing.com and starting the full time job of looking for free places to stay in an effort to conserve money, to extend the trip as long as possible. I have been invited to several countries through couch surfing and from my new friends on the Camino, it’s exciting. 

This trip is about connection for me and I am looking forward to making more deep connections while I am traveling Europe. If anyone has family and friends in Europe please connect us. I am basing my trip on connections. 

My motto on the Camino and in life is “Who shall I meet today, What shall I say, What will I learn, Where will I go, I am open to all connections, I am open to what will enrich my life today, I am open hearted today and every day, I am open for all new possibilities. 

Facebook, July 8—Drew added new photos—

My goodbyes have started. Last night I said goodbye to five amazing people, the Brits. I spent more then a week with them—which in Camino time is over 7 years. They were kind, loving, supportive and there when I needed them. We grew and became better individuals because we were friends. I left them for a short time and came back. They loved me even more on my return. I love you all and look forward to the day we will be together again. Luckily they have invited me to visit them in England. So I will see you again soon.

Facebook, July 8—Drew at Plaza de Fonseca en Santiago de Compostela—

Touring

Facebook, July 8—Drew—

I am with my Band-of-Brothers, and we are touring the bars in Santiago. ‘Cause really, that’s how we roll.

Facebook, July 8—Drew—

Apparently I really needed to decompress after my Camino. I finished Wednesday, today is Friday and I am finally feeling the love that finishing the Camino brings. Or maybe it’s the wine.

Facebook, July 8—Drew— 

I have left my band of brothers three times and have come back to my boys three times. We are finishing our last night together here in Santiago. I have to say, we separated and come back together and it only takes a few minutes for us to connect deeply, as if we never separated. We are completely in sync; we share our heart and love each other openly, with kindness and understanding. These are some of the best relationships I have had in my life. We even laugh about how I need to bring so much love and emotion into everything. Secretly, they love it and love me. They have my back and I have theirs. This has taught me what kind of relationships I will have in my life, going forward. I want men like them, emotional, sensitive, with an open heart. I will have this for the rest of my life. We are even making plans to meet up in Canada next year.

Facebook, July 8—Drew—

This is my life, hanging in the Santiago Plaza while the bell chimes for 7:00 p.m. Mass.

Facebook, July 8 —Drew added new photos— 

The Italians all wear tights. So cool.

Facebook, July 8—Drew added new photos— 

Last night in Santiago

Facebook, July 8—Drew added new photos— 

I just randomly walk up on stuff all the time here. Concert in the plaza, enjoying a little street music. 

Facebook, July 8—Drew added new photos— 

So many people.

Facebook, July 9—Drew added new photos—

Leaving these men was the hardest part of leaving the Camino. I can’t remember feeling so much love in my heart. Crazy thing it was for more then one man and they loved me right back equally and openly. Until we are all together again in Canada. I love you all dearly. Until I see one of you in Germany. Tears of love feel so wonderful on my face.

Facebook, July 9—Drew added new photos— 

Ok I found the bus station, found the ticket booth, got my ticket printed, have fruit in my bag but no substantial food. I’m a little concerned about being hungry. Seven minutes till the bus leaves. All this makes me anxious. I can do this!

Facebook, July 9—Drew— 

On the bus, I can start to relax. I missed one bus in Pamplona. I almost forgot to get my computer out of my bag as it went under the bus. Travel days are when I write. I have nine hours ahead of me, good writing time. I am officially finished with the Camino as I ride out of Santiago. It’s a feeling of loss. I am letting go of an amazing life during the past 35 days. I started on June 4 and finished on July 6. Now I leave my Camino in the past, as our life always ends up, in the past. 

For 32 days I got up and walked, prayed, cried, meditated, talked, was silent, present, loved, controlled, bullied, angered, opened my heart, closed my heart, pushed people away, pulled people in, formed families, left families, felt pain, self evaluated, grew, withdrew, made friends, made enemies, forgave, let go of grudges, saw people in their space, accepted people in their space, acknowledge people who did not work for me, loved people who did work for me, was my best self, was my worst self, drank alcohol, sometimes a lot, felt like a kid, felt like an old man, I didn’t sleep much, Lost weight, stopped eating most meats, only fish, ate fruits and vegetables all the time and octopus.

This trip changed me down to the bones, on a molecular level. I couldn’t have predicted this. It was beyond my comprehension. My blog has been “Can I do this” I now know I can do anything I put my heart and soul into. This is my official announcement. I AM WRITING MY FIRST BOOK. about my life. My own “Eat Pray Love”, my own “Wild” my own “Camino Adventure” my own “Journey of Self Discovery”. I have an editor who will help me clean it up and fix all the crappy mistakes, that make me, me. My writing is as flawed as I am and that’s great for me. I love me and I know who I am. Now I can write about who I was. Look for new pages soon.

Facebook, July 9—Drew— 

Regardless of good and bad, all experiences eventually move into the past. We only remember the emotions that we once clung to so dearly.

  My Camino has ended. Looks like I can do it, because I did. The next time I meet a person who has also completed “The Way to Santiago, El Camino de Santiago” I will be able to look them in the eye with empowerment and empathy and say, #Metoo.

Facebook, July 9—Drew— 

Facing the ugly truth can be difficultly rewarding.

#metoo July 2016, El Camino de Santiago, My Journey-of-Self-Discovery Can I do this, can I finish the Camino and stop the pain?

[dreweric]

June 2016, El Camino de Santiago, my Journey-of-Self-Discovery

Can I do this, can I make a Camino Family?

My Band-of-Brothers

The Camino is a funny place. Relationships start; they burn hot and can have a life-span of a few minutes or a few days. In this world of fast paced connecting, we have what is affectionately coined “The Camino Family” which constitutes a group of individuals walking together and staying together for whatever time they last.

I haven’t seen very many of these relationships last much longer than eight days. My first Camino family lasted that long. My second and third Camino family lasted even less. Enter family four and five. I finished the Camino splitting my time between them. On my last day I walked into Santiago going it alone, leaving both families–only to reconnect with both as they came into Santiago. If this sounds confusing, I’ll attempt to sort it all out, there is so much to tell.

What I’ve learned on this journey has been based on attaching, separating and learning how to be ok with what is. We learned to honor our individual needs and to walk together in a way that best supports us all. It was an enlightening experience to pay close attention to energy and subtle body language.

I came up with this explanation and many fellow pilgrims agreed. The Camino is about 32 days in length.  So, if you equate that to the length of the relationships you have here on the Camino then one day equals one year, ten days equals ten years. (A Camino flip on dog years!)

For shorter encounters, six hours might equal six days and one hour could be an entire day in the real world.

So, imagine 32 years of your life and the people who will impact you during that time. Imagine meeting them all in a day, a week or a month. This is a lifetime of learning, meeting and growing at warp speed.

So when I say my band of brothers is still walking together after so many days, that’s quite an accomplishment.

I met one of my brothers the day I climbed the mountain. He was staying in my Albergue/Hostel. We didn’t talk much at all. He is from Australia and currently lives in England. I will call him the Aussie. I learned that the Aussie is two months younger than I am, and it’s a kick to remind him of that. He was walking with a coworker, originally from Canada.

This past week I was feeling pretty sad and lonely, still in the middle of processing how I felt about chasing the popular kids. It was then that I met another brother from Sweden. He turned in his chair and started talking to me in his slight Swedish accent. On the attractive scale he is pretty damn adorable and is in his mid 20s. I will call him the Swede. I certainly didn’t mind chatting with him even though my feeling of worthiness was at a low and I was feeling a little afraid of him.

I joined him at the table for conversation just before he received a phone call. I moved back to my writing on the lawn, still feeling sad. Eventually I realized the only person isolating was me. It was time to take action.

I got up, put my computer away and looked in the dining area to see who was around. The Swede and Aussie were in conversation at a table. A lovely woman joined us completing our new group of friends. We spent the next five hours talking, drinking and eating, all without getting up from the table. It was a special evening.

The Swede was sitting across from me and was very attentive throughout the evening, making long eye contact with me while we talked. I could clearly see we had a connection and would probably spend some time together in the next few days.

As it turned out we were all sharing a room and the Swede seemed quite interested in me as he kept up a conversation in between teeth brushing and getting ready for bed. Now my intuition was telling me he wanted to walk with me tomorrow.

Facebook:

—Thursday, June 23— Because of my confusion and chasing the popular people, which I no longer am, I got a cold. Please send me healing energy. It’s very mild so no worries.

Walking with someone is essentially going on a first date here on the Camino. If you walk for more than an hour that means the date has been going well. You really don’t know what’s going to happen. It could end in an hour, last many hours or continue for days.

I wake up every morning not knowing who I will walk with, meet, where I will stay or how fast I will walk. Everything is up in the air, which is exciting and scary at the same time.

—Added new photos— Good morning world, hello from the other side. No shadow yet, soon…

On this morning I woke up with my realization that I was chasing the popular kids—a recurring theme. It was very heavy on my heart and I could tell something was about to happen for me, including a shift in perception. I could feel my heart racing with the heaviness.

At 5:30 a.m. my alarm went off. I was getting ready but the Swede was still sleeping.  I wanted to run out of the hostel, but I had this intuition he really wanted to walk with me. I was torn, I had something to process and he was still sleeping. So I reach over to his bunk and tapped his foot figuring if he wakes and starts the morning process then maybe we will walk, but I’m not counting on it.

My foot tapping worked, he rises and starts slowly buzzing about his stuff. His belongings appear to be everywhere as he begins packing them up. In other words, to me, he was a typical 20-something trying to get ready. I saw he wasn’t moving fast enough and I chose to leave. I didn’t see him before I left and felt bad because I just really knew he was reaching out for connection.

I took off, out the door, on my way in the dark of early morning. Still not knowing who I would walk with, who I would see or where I would sleep and still trying to figure out what the hell was going on in my head about the popular kids. I eventually had my realization and cried, leaving me raw and emotional.

I came across a beautiful bridge with pollen fluff on the ground that looked like summer snow. The light was just coming over the mountain. Across an amazing stone bridge was a tiny home with unusual metal furniture, artwork and benches. It was a beautiful setting to do some writing.

I also thought I would wait for the Swede to catch up. I was ready to spend some time walking with him after having an “aha moment” during my writing. Half way into my writing he walked up and said, “I was looking for you this morning but I didn’t find you.” I replied and said, “Yeah, I know you were looking for me.  That’s why I am waiting here so we could walk together.” He seemed pleased. It was several days later when he told me about some girl accidentally hitting his foot that morning. I told him it was me waking him up. He had no idea and was tickled it was me.

I closed my computer and we walked on. Now remember, most pilgrims go deep and vulnerable in a matter of seconds. This was no different, we immediately jumped in.

Perhaps an hour in, I said something that really hit home for him.  So much so he needed to stop walking for a second.  I saw he needed a minute so I told him I would walk ahead and see him in a bit. When this happens you never know if you will walk again or not. The Camino is that unpredictable.

When I found a place to pause again he walked up with Aussie from the night before and the three of us walked the rest of the day, sharing and opening up about ourselves and our lives—my favorite conversations.

The Aussie was a bit angry, shut down and closed off. He barely smiled but was willing to walk with us. The Swede was full of stories about Sweden. He continually talked about Sweden, it was a hoot. Like white noise, I can still hear his accent in the background of my Camino, I loved the sound of it.

We spent that first day together and I could feel a real connection between us. Not really sure what would unfold but I was willing to stick this out and go for the ride. By now, I have grown quite accustomed to being in the company of men on the Camino so I wasn’t having an issue about letting my flags fly and being myself.

Actually I started to realize that I am attracting these men. They both seemed sensitive and emotional and somewhat giving. I could see Aussie was struggling with opening up but I am the type of person who doesn’t really let someone get too comfortable in their comfort zone. I push them right out of it with my coaching ways.

After another long day of walking we began a tradition of drinking beer for the electrolytes (after marathons they give out beer.) During our first full day, I have pushed buttons, made them leave their comfort zone and forced deep conversation about themselves, their lives and surprising me, they still stuck around.

That is an amazing feat. When I get going with my coaching/spirituality conversation, it can be overwhelming for some people. I could see I was pushing them and they both loved it. I even set some ground rules for our discussions and they were happy to oblige.

You can’t use the word “but” as in “yes but”.

You can’t use the word “sorry”.

You don’t have to answer a question right away, you can defer for a later time.

You must be open for possibilities, not closed to new ways of thinking.

It’s your Camino you do what you need on your Camino.

“It’s your Camino, NAMASTE” a way to keep a little humor in our conversations. (Sidebar: In the Whole foods parking lot, Namaste has a slightly different meaning. That was my parking spot, NAMASTE. That was the last grocery cart NAMASTE. You’re not going to put your cart back, NAMASTE! Are you getting the meaning?)

I was astounded that they enjoyed the rules. When we talked and were all open it was a beautiful experience as we were open all the time.

We established patterns like purchasing supplies after a long day walking to make sure we had pre-dinner beer and wine for our long conversations.

After our second day of walking I saw a young man sitting alone on the front stoop of the albergue. He looked as if he wanted a hug. So I asked him to join us for pre-dinner wine and he accepted. That small invitation lasted far longer then we all expected.

“I want a hug” is from Germany so I will call him the German. His English sounds pretty good but you can tell he gets a bit lost if we speak too fast. I never expected him to stay long because of the language barrier and there are lots of Germans on the Camino for him to hang with.

So the German is a little bear type kid whom you want to constantly squeeze or hug or both. He is so kind he exudes a loving presence out of every cell in his body.

I literally saw him pick up three snails off the road and move them to the grass on the opposite side. I doubted that he’d ever get to Santiago if he picked up every snail on the way. He even picked up a couple of worms and moved them. He told me once, “I don’t want it too easy for the birds to get their food. It is important for the birds to exercise while hunting.” (His words, no kidding.)

—Friday, June 24—  I don’t know what’s happening but I like it.

So let’s review who the characters are…

The Swede is super cute, great accent and a bit flirty to anyone around him. He is flirty, confident and himself all at the same time—a real charmer who likes to push your buttons and boundaries. You can see he is sensitive, emotional and open.

This would be the second person I encountered on the Camino with those traits and I had fallen in love with the first one. But this time I was more present to this type of behavior and knew not to get sucked into the trap of his allure.

The German was clearly sensitive, open and highly emotional with a loving manner you don’t see in many men or people in general—just a bear of a boy.

The Aussie was a different story. I couldn’t figure out why he was there and walking with us. I wasn’t sure if he was interested in conversation, being emotionally open or just enjoying the energy and flirting tension that could be thrown about in our new boundary-less environment.

He was angry and pretty closed down when I met him. He was struggling with his Camino and traveling with a work colleague. Who wouldn’t have a difficult time traveling with a work colleague? So I sat back and waited to see just what Aussie wanted to get from our new band of brothers.

I am highly emotional, my sensitivity and intuition are off the charts. I just had my heart opened on the Camino so I was ready for anything the Camino was going to bring forth. I was so ready and prepared for these guys to walk into my life at just the right time.

My belief system is, “Every conversation and experience has a benefit and a purpose.” I believed we were forming a Camino family that would serve a purpose for each of us. I was excited to see where it would go and what the lessons would be.

Clearly I can attract sexual tension as seen earlier on the Camino. I am also attracting emotional, sensitive, loving and kind individuals. This makes me really happy. All these men seemed to be comfortable with themselves, each other and me. I have never felt this level of comfort before with other men. In three days time (three years on the Camino) I felt at home. I felt a calmness wash over me, a peacefulness. I felt they had my back and I didn’t have to be afraid any longer, especially in the wake of the Orlando tragedy.

On the second day we walked, I was just a little unsure about the Swede because he seemed a bit snappy during the day. This turned out to be a benefit since a great lesson unfolded for me. I pulled back a bit in an effort to give him space since I know I can be a bit overwhelming at times.

On the Camino you can have a relationship so intense that it feels like a Roman candle shooting high into the sky. Once a Roman candle burns out, it’s done. I didn’t want this band of brothers to burn out so fast.

So, on that second day I decided not to shine so brightly in an effort to keep from igniting the Roman candle. It seemed to work because none of us tired from being together. So much so we would walk and talk all day then grab some beers and wine and drink and talk till bedtime. Our beds were even in close proximity to each other. Then we would wake up and repeat, day after day. It was like summer camp for all us boys; it was like a family, a Band-of-Brothers

The Aussie, slowly but surely, started to soften. He started to smile. Ever so slowly he showed signs of opening up. I kept pushing him with questions and wouldn’t let his answers be surface ones. I wanted to really hear the truth from him, he hated/loved it. He had nowhere to hide and wasn’t interested in walking away; he stood there, clearly outside his comfortable zone and grew.

One special morning we were walking to the big cross. Here is where pilgrims leave their burdens. The idea is to bring a rock from home that represents our life burdens and leave it at the base of the cross. This is a particularly difficult part of the trip. We were all emotional and had feelings of foreboding about the experience. Eventually we split up and arrived at the cross, claiming our own space.

However, prior to our splitting up, I started to cry about my burdens, about losing my mom and my divorce this past year. On my mother’s nightstand, when she transitioned, was a baby Jesus from a miniature nativity scene. I have held it all these years. When I was moving out of my apartment, someone told me to bring one thing with me from home. Then said I’d know what item to take when I saw it. When I packed and found the baby Jesus I knew it was the one item to take with me. I also had a rock from the garden at my first apartment as a single man. I was now choosing to leave both burdens at the cross.

The Swede saw me getting choked up and started to reassure me it would be all right. He told me to go ahead and feel. I am not sure all he said but it was working. I cried harder as we walked. It was like he was channeling my mother.

Then he surprised me by telling me to forgive my mother, to let it all go. I was in full blown tears; he was bringing up pain that I needed to get out. Eventually the crying slowed along with the talking. We eased back into our own worlds and continued getting closer to the cross.

When it was my turn to find the cross, I climbed the rocks on its base that were left by other pilgrims. I found the spot and placed my mother’s baby Jesus and my divorce rock next to a lovely bracelet and a flat rock with the date on it written in chalk. I took a picture through my tears and felt the emotion of the experience.

In sharing our emotional rawness, I showed Aussie the picture of my baby Jesus and the rock, he was flabbergasted. Without knowing it, I placed my burdens against his rock.  We both have pictures of the same spot. We were stunned how divine intervention played its part on bringing our burdens to the exact spot—no coincidence there.

My Band-of-Brothers and I had such an ease with each other we never once questioned anyone’s feelings, emotions or actions. It was like we had a psychic connection and we understood. We would walk separate, take a different pace then come back together with ease and love. When someone would slow a bit or walk ahead we all knew that they were taking the reflection time and the personal space they needed. We were all attached to the flow of the Camino and one another’s flow, effortless, smooth, loving and beautiful.

— He picks up snails on the road and puts them in the grass. I saw this 3 times. He is always looking at flowers and searching for little critters. He requires you to share his food. And always looks like he wants to hug you. This is how a man should be, kind, warm and loving. He is German and I love him. 

J.M.H.— When you come back, (if you come back) remember these lessons learned… 

The German required the most space. He floated in and out all the time. He would be with us one minute, we would look back, and he is furrowing for critters along the path. He loved the animals of the Camino, truly loved them. That was his Camino.

— My friends socks, the German! And I quote “I will wear them one more time!!!” I made a gagging sound!!! 

Mark H.— think they can walk the rest of the way by themselves. 

Salvador C.— That’s cute, give him a surprise gift with tons of socks. 

He also talked with his hands incessantly. He held them close to his head and shook them about, however his hands didn’t further any conversation, they just shook about. It was totally awesome to watch his boyish energy and loving charm. I could sit and look at him all day, just watching him talk, or sitting quietly. He often caught me looking at him and would instinctively know how much I cared for him—and I could feel his affection for me. He was the most loving individual I met on the Camino. I love him and he loves me.

— He is emotional, vulnerable and kind. He exudes love in every direction always talking, always sharing, always looking for connecting. He is from Sweden and I love him. 

Ray S.— With everyone you meet , they have a story of their own , then you become a part of their story forever . That’s cool…

The Swede had such charisma and you could feel his loving energy. Sometimes I felt it a little too much. He could use a little practice dialing some of that energy down a bit. We laughed and shared, made jokes and got drunk several times, it was so much fun. He was so free with his love which was intoxicating.

Luckily now, I was better prepared for intoxicating young men and I was able to resist this one’s charms. I was able to accept him for who he was and I did love him, in a safe way for him and me. He is the most charismatic loving person on the Camino, I love him and he loves me.

— My younger brother. He smiles and I see the boy he tries to hide. I have watched him be reborn from a caterpillar to the loving soul he shows off today. Exuberant with a boyish energy. He is from Australia and I love him. 

Ray S.— Just when the caterpillar thought the world was over, it became a butterfly… 

The Aussie is the most transformed individual I met. He went from a caterpillar to a beautiful schmetterling (the German word for butterfly). He now freely uses the word love and openly gives hugs. On those first few days he described his home life as nice, pleasant, and good. Now, he uses expressions like “fucking fantastic,” “incredibly cool” and” totally awesome.” The words he uses now have passion in them. The man has gotten way sexier, happier and has a bounce in his step when he walks. He appears so fucking happy to be alive and walking the Camino. I am sure there is no other place in the world he would rather be than here, with us, in Spain.

I once asked him a question and he answered with, “That was nice” I shot back with, “just nice? That’s the best you can do?” Several days later after an in-depth share I said, “That was a nice exchange, thanks.” He looked me dead in the eye and shot back, “NICE?” Wow, the student becomes the teacher. Today, he is the most passionate man I have met on the Camino. I love him and he loves me.

Mark W.H.— Can not wait to read your book… If you could only see your journey from this side. Emotional-Raw-Masculine-Real… Your shadow will always be with you.

— Today is a good day. Last night over wine we discussed a plan we all agreed upon. The 5 of us would get up at 5:15 and walk early into Leon, Spain. Spend a long day in Leon at a nice albergue, then leave a little late the next day. Which means we will be spending the day together exploring Leon. It was a relaxed walk and short. The company was perfect. These are good men. We walk well together. We fit well together. Today is a good day with my band of brothers. 

Erik T.— Wow! Awesome my friend. The frame in which you see and experience all others will never be the same. The power of traveling… 

When we were together in Leon we had a blast. We were tired and wandered around the city trying to figure out what we wanted to see and do. Several ideas were thrown about with no real interest. We finally ended up near the Leon cathedral and I said, “Ok, it would appear all we really want to do is find a bar, sit, and drink and talk more. So let’s make a circle around the cathedral, completing our sightseeing, then we can sit in a bar somewhere for the rest of the night.” That made everyone happy.

—Saturday, June 25— I’m in Leon Spain exploring with my buds, this town is great. Welcome to my reality. I feel something happening in my future. 

After the fourth day together I made a decision. With all I’ve learned up until now about men and how to be comfortable with them, I decided not to withhold anything about me, including my need for physical touch and expression. Yes, I was going to get physical with these men and they were going to like it. I wasn’t going to hide my affection for them, I was going to touch them and kiss them in a way that is acceptable for them, mostly.

I decided I was going to wake them up with kisses and that’s just what I did. I even told them what my plan was after our walk, over electrolytes—beers. We talked about everything. I talked about my blog, everything I’d learned thus far and falling in love with a boy on the Camino. I even shared what the men of the Camino, including them, are teaching me. I told them everything and they didn’t walk away. I felt their love all the time.

The next day the Swede and German were still sleeping and I sat on the Swede’s bed and rubbed his arm till he was awake and then gave him a kiss on the forehead. He smiled and laughed as I got up. I went to German’s bed and rubbed his arm till he woke up with a big grin on his face. Pure love. So I got up higher and smooched on him all over his forehead as he giggled and squiggled like a boy. They both loved it. Weeks later I finally gave the Aussie his kiss when I felt he was ready for it. He accepted it with a smile. Good men they are.

— I woke my boys up with kisses, they are still taking about it. Love these boys. 

Sherry S.— Love it!!! THAT’s “our” Drew!!

We even had a guest walk with us for a few days. I will call him Atlanta. He was a very kind man, great smile, big heart. He was lying in his bunk snuggled in his sleeping bag so nicely. I just walked over to him and kissed his forehead as I left the room. I kissed him before any of the others. All he said was, “He is a good guy, that Drew.” Don’t ask me why I felt I could kiss his forehead, I just did it on instinct.

— Having lunch with my band of brothers, I love these guys, good men. 

Ken C.— Adventures make life long friends, keep it up, u inspire me. My dad told me when we lived in Germany to remember everybody u meet, the things u see, the feelings u have, it may be the only chance you have in life too experience them. Treasure them. Glad you are, be safe, have fun. That was 1975 and I remember everything, life is good.

When you’re walking as a group you figure out who is the strongest and weakest and you make adjustments according. Luckily the Swede with his bad knees kept himself medicated and was very interested in walking our slightly faster pace. The only one with a deadline to leave was the Swede who was as invested in arriving in Santiago on a timely basis as the rest of us were.

After six days of walking we had a genuine rhythm that was working really well. The four of us tended to keep up in the front while the Aussie’s coworker with his blistered feet, tended to take his time a bit more and walk in the rear.

— I used to wake up not knowing who I would meet, where I would go or who I would talk to. I don’t anymore. Now I know. I love these boys and they love me. And I’m proud to say, I am the oldest. Lol. 

Ann A.— Drew…You’ve come a long way from that scared boy who left Wilton Manors… You’re now a Camino Man in Spain… Amazing Journey… I am loving every minute watching you grow… 

On the Camino groups form and fall apart all because of walking rhythm. You could really love your Camino family but if their Camino rhythm isn’t jiving with yours, then you need to let them go. It’s their Camino, Namaste!

However, we had been working really hard on our rhythm, pace, honoring the need for individual quiet time and the ability to talk endlessly with each other. It was a magical exchange.

On the seventh day it fell to shit…

—Sunday, June 26— We have a new guest in our midst. 

We had another amazing walk on day seven. Everything was perfect. The five of us were in sync with rhythm, conversation, quiet time and walking speed. What could happen to break this apart?

That night Indiana walked into our lives causing a shift. We transitioned from what was to what it would be. Our honeymoon stage was over. A new reality started that night.

Indiana sat with us just before dinner. She was very pretty and similar in age to the Swede and the German. She was friendly, confident and easily shot back some quick one-liners. She seemed as if she would be a good fit and meld well with our established rhythm.

She told us it was her plan to finish the Camino in ten days and make her flight connections. I, of course, understood the Camino much clearer than she did and knew her plan would never work. The Camino has its own plan for finishing. Try as you might, you cannot fight the Camino and win.

Over dinner, drinks and conversation I could see her connecting with the charming Swede. I said no less than six times, “Don’t fall under his allure and charm, it’s intoxicating”. Clearly I must have been having intuition of some kind.

I invited her to walk with us knowing she might not be able to keep up since most new walkers get blisters. We all had them in our first few days.

Sure enough the next day, her painful blisters slowed her pace. The Swede chose to walk more slowly matching her pace while the rest of us walked at our normal rhythm.

We could feel the connection separating with one of our own like a long tether about to snap. I observed, all day, a shift in the energy flow from us, towards her. At one point even the Aussie asked me, “Why am I feeling jealous?”

I explained to him that it will be fine and all will work out in the end. He loves us and he has our back. There’s nothing to worry about because of the love and care we all share for each other.”

That day when we arrived in town, we ventured out for lunch and electrolytes (beer).  During lunch we talked. However this time, our rather liberal views were in conflict with her conservative point of view.

She brought up her interest in attending a bullfight which surprised us all. None of us felt comfortable with the treatment of the animals in such a situation. Remember the snail loving German!

It was during this lunch I began to realize Indiana might not be a good fit for our Band-of-Brothers. My Camino has been filled with loving individuals that I have chosen to walk with. Now I was faced with walking in the company of someone whose opposing views make me uncomfortable. Having different views wasn’t the only problem.

We make it to the hostel later in the day and check in. Now we are a bit offended, jealous and disappointed she is walking with us and changing the flow of the group we have worked so hard to develop. We felt like our brother was slipping away from us.

We can clearly see that the Swede and Indiana have a “connection.” Their chemistry is palpable. What most concerns us about their connection is how the Swede’s girlfriend will feel about his connecting with another woman on the Camino. My concerns for this situation run deep because I care for all my brothers.

Ann A.— Interesting situation…All I can say is if the Swede and Indiana hook up the Swede’s girlfriend will start to cause drama. That is NOT what any of you need because indeed you have formed a great band of brothers… I’m afraid that you may have to walk away from the Swede if this happens… It will disrupt your harmony. Girls have a way of doing this… And men fall into their clutches like helpless souls… This will definitely affect everyone involved… If this should happen, walk away from the drama… You have worked too hard for the Swede to disrupt these connections… Too bad Indiana stepped in…

That evening, while the Swede and Indiana were taking a nap, the Aussie, the German and I planned our walk into Santiago—how long it will take, how many days and miles and what our plans are when we arrive. We decide to average 20-24 Kilometers a day and not rush ourselves, arriving on a Friday. The German wants to walk onto Finisterre (The end of the earth) while the Aussie has a flight on Sunday. I am open, with a flight on Tuesday, and have no rush.

We decide to get in early on Friday and spend Saturday together. Sunday we would all go our separate ways after two days of relaxing and drinking together in Santiago. Our plan was set. All we had to do was let the Swede know to see if he is on the same page.

The next day we walk and, in general, the familiar energy connection was evident between the Swede and Indiana, although today they seem to be even closer and further separated from us. This feeling leaves a break in the circle, our connectedness.

Later in the day we checked into the albergue. Once checked in they showed us the dorm. The Swede picks his bed first. The bunks all around him are open and we each take one surrounding him, leaving no room for Indiana to be near him. I am sure it was just a coincidence. It would appear we were feeling a bit protective of him, since we all sensed the potential impact this could have on his relationship back in Switzerland.

When Indiana approached us and asked me if the bunk next to the Swede was open, I said no it was mine and pointed out the bunk across from us was open. With a sad face and turndown eyes she took the further bunk. I felt I might have been a little harsh, I wasn’t really sure what to do, I was going on instinct, as we all were.

As drinks and dinner progressed they all but ignored the rest of us and were giggling and talking with each other. We were all getting very uncomfortable. I even overheard her ask him to “move bunks”. My concerns grew by the moment.

On and on they giggled, touched and chatted. The sexual tension was palatable. Remember, he was giving me/us the same flirty energy just a few days ago. It appears to be one of the tools he uses to win people over, being charismatic, flirting and sending sexual energy in all directions. Now I am witnessing his sending that energy to a woman that isn’t his girlfriend.

I needed a break from this, in walks a homosexual, I assume, my knight in bright clothing. The Brit was sitting at a table behind me. I noticed him and his friends during drinks. It peaked my interest since it had been almost three weeks since I had a conversation with another gay man. So I jumped up and entered a conversation with the Brit and his friends. It went well.

Now I am jumping back and forth between two groups, two tables and making new connections with some Brits. I like them and they seem to like me. What a joy it is to flirt with a boy. It’s been so long since I have had the opportunity since everyone I have meet for the last two weeks or more has been straight.

My other table of brothers and the guest from Indiana weren’t getting along so well, apparently Indiana was over sharing her conservative views again upsetting the rest of the men.

Indiana and the Swede finally left the table and went to bed earlier than the rest of us. The Brit’s girlfriends went off to bed leaving us alone to get to know each other a bit better. My band of brothers joined us for the tail end of the evening before leaving for bed.

I was happy to see my brothers show an interest in my new friend. I felt so loved when they both came over to join us for conversation. It was a gesture of kindness that I noticed and appreciated. I felt worthy of their friendship because they were interested in my wellbeing and my new friend.

We finished up since the Brit needed to head back to his hostel before curfew; they set a door closing time, out of respect for the sleeping pilgrims.

When he left I mentioned to my two brothers what I overheard about the Swede switching bunks to be closer to Indiana. The German couldn’t understand how this could be happening. The Aussie shared with me his discomfort with all Indiana’s over sharing. We were placing bets whether the Swede would actually have moved. I also heard him say at one point he liked to be the little spoon while sleeping.

In this Albergue, the bunk beds were side by side putting two beds up against each other. This was not a common practice in the Albergue’s but it was here.

When we went into the dorm, he had moved and was the little spoon asleep on the shared bunk. Holy crap, we were stunned, upset and concerned.

I woke the next day with an overwhelming foreboding feeling. I was uncomfortable with the changes in our group and I wanted to do something to restore what we once had. I was afraid of losing the connections we worked so hard to develop. And, I was concerned for our brother’s relationship with his girlfriend, even if he didn’t appear concerned.

The German couldn’t understand how he could be spooning with a woman that wasn’t his girlfriend and he was visibly upset. The Aussie was feeling rejected and a little jealous that she was pulling his attention away from us.

I asked the Aussie if I should talk to the Swede or her. He said talk to him, so that’s what I did. I didn’t know what to say or how I was feeling really. We were all feeling conflicted and didn’t know where this was headed. I could be overstepping my bounds. I could be doing the right thing looking out for the Swede’s best interest. I could be screwing up everything. I really didn’t know. I decided to stick with honesty.

I found the Swede and asked if we could speak and he agreed, appearing a bit confused. I didn’t want to come right out and ask his intentions with this new girl or remind him of his girlfriend at home. I chose to discuss the matter in a different way since it was none of my business what his intentions were. This could be a regular thing for him, I really don’t know.

I explained how we were feeling uncomfortable in her presence since she was excluding us from her conversations and focusing all her attention on him. In addition, some of her conversations when she does speak to us are her positive views on bull fights, how terrible President Obama is, all deepening our discomfort.

Our pace has been pretty steady now for several days. With her being a new walker with new blisters, she seems to be lagging, making it difficult for the rest of us to keep our pace. “Do you want to walk with her or us as she doesn’t seem to be working for us as a friend or a walking companion—unless she wants to walk with us and be more inclusive with our group?”

I was not being my best self, I admit this. I was trying to save our connection, however the connection was already dwindling, I see now. Our group had changed with the new member and it was never going back to the easy flow it once had. I did what was best for me and that was to be honest about my feelings. I didn’t want my Camino to be impacted negatively by their budding relationship. I gave him the choice to go and have his fun and then come back. However, he wanted to stay and walk with us.

He seemed a bit confused by the exchange, so when I saw him trying to explain it to her and struggling, I stepped up and joined in their conversation. I explained what I had told him. I reiterated that if she was interested in us and being more inclusive she is welcome to walk with us. But currently she seemed to only be focused on him. I also explained we have different personal views and if she could be more sensitive to that it would be helpful while we are sharing the Camino. After consideration, they chose to walk with us.

—Tuesday, June 28— Drew Miller shared Heart Centered Rebalancing’s photo. (Open your mouth only if what you are going to say is more beautiful than silence-Arabic Proverb) I recently used the wrong words and I am paying for it. I was not my best self and it hurts.

That morning I extended an olive branch and struck up a conversation with Indiana. I told her all about my Camino and shared my lessons for more than an hour. I shared about how the Camino has its own plan and about the relationships I saw on the Camino start and finish along with my own past relationships. I felt it went pretty well.

She seemed moderately interested however didn’t really interject or share. Later in the day they seemed to fall back into their connectedness and slower pace.

—Wednesday, June 29 added new photos— Me, swimming in a river in Spain, in the freezing cold water, In my undies because I have no swimwear. Totally cool life. 

That evening we checked into our hostel and chose our beds with them again next to each other. Lots of giggling and low talking between them. I then saw him turn to face her directly, preparing to change his clothes. He pulled down his pants and popped back up with a quick jerking energy, exposing his underwear. She was seated on the bed in front of him with her head waist high. The room filled with sexual energy that you could cut with a knife. This is the same action he did to me four days earlier.

I was stunned. He was now cut off from us completely and sending her all his charismatic, sexual energy to win her over just like he did with us. I was very uncomfortable, I wanted to leave, run out of the room right then. This was not my Camino; it was very distracting from my journey.

— The Camino has plans I am not aware of. Everyday I wake up expecting the Camino to tell me something new. The Camino tells me who I will see and who I will be with and what I will say. It’s not up to me. I live in the Camino flow. 

Martha H.— You look well but remember this is your trip. You have the right to go your own way… A traveler has no set destination… It’s the journey… If you are feeling cramped go see what your soul calls for… Not everyone is on the same path… and yes, your voice does count. 

Laura B.— Your soul looks happy. 

Ralph B.— You are still doing it, live in the flow. 

I lay down on my bed for a moment in an attempt to sort this out. When I looked up, the door opened and there was my answer. The Brit, looking for his room accidentally came into mine. I felt relieved. I realized then leaving the group was necessary for my own Camino growth. I was uncomfortable and I could leave, I could walk away. I wasn’t tied to anyone and didn’t need to stay. I could freely walk on my own path.

With the sexually charged energy in the dorm room I chose to sleep on a different floor of the hostel. I told the Aussie and the German I was going to walk on with the Brit. It was too distracting for me to stay and that was what was best for me. If anything changes let me know. We can still be together in Santiago. We can still keep our plans for the weekend. I just need to remove myself from their new relationship.

— Been having an experience the last couple days. Sorry I haven’t posted.

K.C.C.— Let me see if I got this straight (no pun intended). You go on a life changing adventure. You are living your life and enjoying yourself. You can’t take time away from the real world to post in the virtual world? I don’t get it.  🙂 Keep enjoying yourself and post updates when you are able.

Drew— Lol, I’m sharing the fact something is shifting for me and I wanted to let you all know, that’s all. Wait for the update. K.C.C. you made me laugh. Thanks I needed a laugh. 

Erik T.— Understood. Perhaps you should completely disconnect for a while. This is such a great opportunity to be quiet n go within. U got this. 

The next morning I walked ahead with the British group. I never told the Swede of my plans. I did what was best for me since I was uncomfortable, I walked on.

— Yes I have one more new Camino family. You can never predict what the Camino has in store for you. The Way has more twist and turns then imaginable. Some with rocks, roots and loose gravel to trip you up causing injury. Some with fine grands of sand and stones with pretty little flowers that brush your pants. Yesterday was roots, today it’s flowers. Tomorrow, I do not know.

Lantz T.— But you are present in the moment that you’re enjoying. Goals have been met!  

After a couple wonderful days getting to know the Brits, I ran across my band of brothers. I went over to see how they were all fairing. I wanted to know if I was still loved by them and what the future entailed for us all.

They seemed genuinely excited to see me. They wanted to know if I was well and asked about my new friends. I totally felt the love they had for me. I even sensed a good feeling from the Swede.

Indiana then said goodbye since she needed to take a bus ahead in order to complete the Camino in 10 days. She would be leaving the next night. The Camino has a plan for everyone and she was following hers.

Hmmmm, maybe its time for me to join my band of brothers again. With Indiana leaving maybe things will be as they were—one big happy family.

I discussed it with the Brits and made my plan. The next day I would spend the morning walking with the Brits, getting in some last minute quality time, then walk back to the city I just left and wait for the Band of Brothers to join me. Yeah, I like this plan. Sometimes you must go backwards in order to move forwards.

—Friday, July 1— Sometimes you must go backwards in order to walk forward. Today I am walking 2 hours along the path in which I came. Changing families for an extra day on the Camino. I have taken a well needed identity break for the last 4 days. Checking back in with my natural self. My safe place, my comfort place, my place of home. I left the Camino world. Now I am adding 1 more day to be with my band of brothers.

Drew— This is the second time on the Camino I have walked in reverse. I can’t wait to see the fun the Camino has in store for me now.

Peter G.— Look at the shadow of your walking stick. It looks like a machine gun!

James M.— Peter I thought the same thing, it does look like a machine gun.

Drew— There is so much subtext in the post, lol and your seeing the shadow?

Michele W.B.— Personally, I agree that it looks like a gun and your shadow looks like a soldier with combat gear and helmet. I think it’s the perfect subtext for what I’ve seen you become on this journey. I’ve seen you turn into a fighter, a soldier, a warrior, a strong man.

When I walked back into town I found my brothers but something seemed strange. I didn’t see any cohesiveness. Everyone seemed a bit separated and withdrawn—misalignment everywhere. I spent some time observing to see if I could get a sense of what was going on. I started with the Aussie and asked him. He really wasn’t sure but he also felt something was different and uncomfortable in the air. He was doing his best to be normal around all the tension but even he wasn’t his usually jovial self.

I continued to observe body language and moods with the rest of them. Yes, something was different. I wasn’t sure if it was my presence or something else.

Aussie was still concerned and making sure everyone was taken care of, other than himself. I suggested he take a break so we could do some catching up. He was happy to oblige and was soon back to his old cheerful self without assuming the care taker role. Our conversation was quickly comfortable and easy like we were never apart.

The others walked in and chose to sit at the bar for a drink while we were at a table, yes different energy happening over there for sure. After our beers we joined the others and went outside to walk about a bit to see this small town.

Body language tells all. I did observe a difference between the Swede and Indiana. They seemed to have calmed the closeness. I didn’t see any more giggling or whispering and casual touching. Hmmm, I wonder why the change. They don’t seem mad at each other but I can definitely see a shift in their energy.

I continued to observe them over dinner and I noticed something that was a bit more telling. The Swede—while sitting next to Indiana— had turned in his seat leaving his shoulder out, effectively cutting her off from him. I also noticed there was little to no conversation, touching or contact of any kind. At which point I made an assumption. Something over the last few days has caused the Swede to turn his back on his new friend.

I was now upset at how much has changed since I left. I was desperately trying to hold on to what we once had and not really sure how to handle what we have now.

—Saturday, July 2— Back with my men. 141,314 kilometers to go. I love this life. 

Mark W.H.— I don’t think you realize how much you are inspiring us all… Keep on. Keeping on! Thank you!

Jorge P.— 141k KM? You sure?

Drew— 141,314 km

Jorge P.— One of the longest routes is 610 km tho…

Drew— Actually I am walking 800 km. I guess I am not sure what the sign means then. 

Jorge P.— Right. The sign must mean you have 140 km to go. Not 141 thousand. That’s a lot! You’re almost there!!!

Drew— Yes, almost 🙂 

After dinner we split up and all went to our separate beds for the evening. The next morning, after she left the Swede, said he was going to walk with another friend that he has not spent time with in a while.

He seemed different to me also. He wasn’t making eye contact, not being his jubilant self and made it clear he wasn’t walking with our band of brothers today. Yes, things are not the same.

I decided to be direct and honest and ask what’s happening for him—rather than making assumptions.

I shared my observations about him seeming different towards me and he chose this time to explain how he was actually feeling.

He said he was upset at how I spoke with them. It reminded him of being bullied as a child. Just the way I was direct and told him how I felt about Indiana. He told me I was a bully and that’s not how I should speak to someone.

I didn’t see that coming. That was a blow. I don’t want to be perceived as a bully, ever. We parted ways for the day. I had a lot to think about.

This was a dramatic blow. I spent the day getting present to all that has happened. I knew this would be a big lesson with many painful benefits.

I walked with the German and the Aussie. We were terrific together. For the three of us it flowed wonderfully and the day was just as it was before.

— Lunch time, Empanadas and beer, we are reliving our moment with the cross.

That night the Swede was back and we spent the evening together. He was moderately friendly after a few drinks. I was beginning to think maybe forgiveness was on the horizon.

— So I am with a bunch of Germans watching football/soccer in a bar in Spain. Germany and Italy are playing. I am This cool. This is my life. Camino/friends/football. I love my life.

Courtney C.O.— I love your life. 

Drew— It is so unreal, but it is. 

Laura B-T.— I bet they went nuts! Going crazy here in the Alps for sure!

Diana C.L.— Eurocope! Yeiii

—Sunday, July 3— About 115 km left. This will be over soon. And my new life off the Camino will begin. A new adventure, new people, new sites, new feelings. I will be in the unknown.

John B.— But knowing yourself so much more! 

Drew— Yes I am. 

Marcus B.— You sound so happy. 

Drew— I am so happy, and it is just beginning. 

At Casa Barbadelo— I am enjoying beer at the pool. Life is hard on the Camino. But I can do this!!!

Wes M.— Doesn’t look too hard 😜

— I have watched the move “The Way” and I have to say, actually doing it is 1000 times better. Even the hard, emotional, crying is worth it. The personal growth and challenges are so worth it. I am in the right place with the right people doing the right things. My life is amazing.

Anne S-B.— Really happy for you, and proud of you for challenging yourself and putting yourself in some uncomfortable/unfamiliar situations for personal growth!! Enjoy every moment!!

Drew— And I have been UNCOMFORTABLE, but the growth makes it worth it. 

Martha H.— I got a lot from the Reese Witherspoon movie when she walks the trail in search of herself. It seems we all need a time to really look at where we have blinded ourselves in so many ways. When it comes down to the essence, we truly just need to focus on our purpose here….love and light. M

Drew— Yes, love and light. I am struggling right now with love and light. This to will pass… 

— Today is 6 days till I reach Santiago. What an amazing journey. I am so new and fresh. Reborn even.

Courtney C.O.— I don’t want it to end. 

Drew— I will still be on an adventure. My flight back is September 29, however I might stay longer. We shall see.

Jeanne L.S.— Ross and I watched, again, the movie “The Way” just to be a little more connected with your journey. 

Drew— That is awesome! 

However the next day when he walked with us he was back and forth with niceness and shortness. I didn’t come on the Camino to walk with someone who was unhappy with my presence and not willing to forgive.

The next morning I chose to apologize again. I let him know I was truly sorry for not being kind and supportive. He reiterated his feeling of being bullied and emphasized, that’s not the way a family treats one another. He said we walked too fast and we shouldn’t be leaving family behind. That’s not how he would handle it, indicating himself, Indiana and the Canadian.

I didn’t say much and left the conversation the way it was. I apologized for the second time. Now it was his turn to see what he wanted walking forward. Interesting how he called her family, since I said that she wasn’t including us in their conversations and walk. I began to wonder about his observation skills on human behavior.

He continued to switch moods throughout the day. I was getting less interested in continuing our walk together if he wasn’t going to forgive me and move forward. I was beginning to see that we were not going to regain what we once had.

Clearly he had made up his mind about my character and had chosen not to forgive. Now it’s time for me to walk away, again. This was too distracting for my Camino.

— Monday, July 4, added new photos— at Casa Cruceiro.

We are 100 km to Santiago. What a thrill! What an accomplishment! What a journey!

— Celebrating the 4th of July with 100 km left till Santiago. What a great day!

Brenda R.— Wait till you walk into Santiago, I found it so, so emotional. I leave Spain Wednesday. If I was to do it again, I would so do it on my own, you are lucky you are. 

I messaged the Brits and found out they were only 13 kilometers ahead. I told them I was coming back to walk with them. They were all excited to hear the good news. They were finishing the Camino Thursday now and catching their flight on Friday.

Added new photos— Life moves pretty fast, if you don’t stop and look around once In a while you could MISS IT!!!

I shared my plans with the German and the Aussie. I told them we will still be together on Friday and Saturday in Santiago. We would still have our time together; I just needed to move ahead. This drama was too distracting for me and not how I want to finish my Camino. Today was Monday night and they were finishing the Camino early Friday morning.

Over dinner, I told all my brothers that I was going to catch up with my British friends and finish early. It was suggested to send my bag ahead to lighten my load on the long walk catching up with my friends. So I made plans the next day to send it to where the Brits were staying. I only kept a small backpack for my water and some food.

That night, after a considerable amount of wine, the Swede and I were doing some joking. Now that I was leaving the Swede seemed a bit friendlier or maybe it was the wine. It was fun and again I thought maybe he was prepared to forgive. I asked him if we could have a few more minutes together and he agreed to another conversation—now influenced by the wine. It was going pretty well. Conversation was flowing along with more wine. Then a disagreement ended the conversation.

— I have been struggling the last several days with emotions, attachments, fear of separation and worthiness. Today I am making another decision that is painful but is what is best for my wellbeing. What I want most I cannot have. What I most want to avoid I must face. Keep me in your thoughts.

Ann A.— You can’t always get what you want… Face the unavoidable… Remember pull up those big boy pants… Mr Camino Man… 

Lori T.— Things are meant to be as they are!

Richard M.C.— Drew – You are a beautiful human being! Enjoy your ability to face life’s innermost questions by bringing them to the forefront! Richard

Michael S.— I can’t help you with some of those things, but I know that you are worthy! You matter! Love ya! — “You is kind… You is smart… you is important…”

With a few minutes of cooling time I saw him sitting alone and attempted tried to finish our talk once and for all.

He said without mincing his words, “You are a bad person for leaving a family member behind. That’s not how we do it. It’s wrong to leave her behind because she is slower. You are a bad person, period!”

I got up and said that “It looks like we are done here” and I walked away. I saw now my reflection in his eyes and I didn’t like it.

I woke up early the next morning and walked away. It felt great, not to have drama, no one angry at me for my actions and no one withholding forgiveness. I was going to walk with people who genuinely wanted me to be with them.

I walked 40 kilometers that day. But the walk did not go smoothly, It was a difficult day.

To be continued

Ruben C.H.— Drew this a beautiful opportunity to stretch out of your comfort zone that you’ve co-created with your band of brothers. The constant lesson of letting go. The only thing that is ever constant in this life is change. Change of our thoughts, perception, beliefs and experiences. As you continue on your “Camino” be mindful and present of your thoughts and energy and allow them to flow through you. Love is love no matter what so allow yourself to share the love 🙏🏻💓🙏🏻

Meeting my Band-of-Brothers on the Camino, the trials and tribulations of a pilgrimage. June 2016, El Camino de Santiago, my Journey-of-Self-Discovery Can I do this, can I make a Camino Family?

[dreweric]

Can I overcome the fear of my own safety, as a gay man?

My Pulse Orlando Breakdown while walking the El Camino de Santiago in Spain, 2016.

June 2016, El Camino de Santiago, my Journey-of-Self-Discovery

Can I do this, can I overcome the fear of my own safety as a gay man?

So I finally had a breakdown/breakthrough (how ever you view it)—on the Camino—thousands of miles from Orlando, Florida.

I was walking with a man (make note that I am working on not distinguishing gay or straight when I refer to men) and we were talking about why we…

[dreweric]

I am Worthy!

I had a breakthrough/breakdown this morning. I realized I have been chasing the popular kids

June 2016, El Camino de Santiago, my Journey-of-Self-Discovery

Can I do this, overcome my worthiness issues?

It’s the midway point in walking “The Way to Santiago” a 500 mile pilgrimage through northern Spain from France. My journey has taken me over breathtaking mountains, hills and countryside. These are sights I have never seen growing up in the flatlands of Florida.

The solitude of this…

[dreweric]

My final journey home, the conclusion to my Journey-of-Self-Discovery.

I heard this voice in 2015. It started out as a whisper then got louder. I was afraid of the voice. What if the voice is wrong? What if I can't do it? I listened to that voice and it saved my life. I am a new man because of it. 

Can I do this; can I go home and create life anew?

Facebook, January 2—Drew posted a photo— “You know that voice in your head telling you to travel? Listen to it. Because 10 years from now you’ll wish you had!”—unknown 

— I heard this voice in 2015. It started out as a whisper then got louder. Everyone I knew supported me and I had to hear the voice. I was afraid of the voice. What if the voice…

[dreweric]

November 2016, Backpacking Europe, my Journey-of-Self-Discovery

Can I do this; can I live in this world and remember we belong to each other? 

Facebook, November 8—Drew— 

“I live in a world where I see everyone as family, friends and colleagues, not as “others” to fear.”—Drew Eric

I spent the past seven weeks traveling the Balkans, across the Adriatic Sea from Italy and above Greece, from Albania in the South, to Romania in the North. Part of this area is formally known as Yugoslavia which collapsed in 1991 after the fall of communism.

While traveling the Balkans I learned about wars, genocide, political corruption, anger, finger pointing, gossip, rebellions, dictators, ruling empires and the realities of being gay in Eastern, formerly communist countryside. In Bosnia I was told “I want to kill you right now” and I feared for my safety. All this was happening in my life while the presidential election was happening at home, this seemed like a far-off world to me now, but today I found the two worlds colliding in the present.

The countries in and around the Balkans are Croatia, Bosnia, Serbia, Kosovo, Romania, Bulgaria, Macedonia, Montenegro and Albania. Traveling the Balkans while gay has been eye-opening. I have learned so much more than I was comfortable with.

Through my trip around Europe I have met men (interested in the opposite sex mostly) who became travel buddies and great friends. When we were together I didn’t always have time to seek out the gay life. Occasionally I was able to break away for a date but for the most part I did what my friends did. I mention this because I always thought there would be a gay life available if and when I wanted it, just like it was throughout Northern and Western Europe. I did expect that when I arrived in the Balkans, but all that would change.

When Yugoslavia was a country the main capital was in what is now Belgrade, Serbia. Other larger cities around the country eventually became capitols of the new emerging countries, meaning, not all capitals have a thriving city life and are still growing.

In Germany, Poland, Czech Republic and Austria, all the wars and unrest dated back to WWII in the mid-‘40s. Today in the Balkans everything is more recent and raw. I even remember it from my childhood dating back to the ‘80s and ‘90s.

My Balkan experience started in Croatia. While seeing what Zagreb, the capital of Croatia, had to offer, I took a walking tour. I love history and I was interested and willing to dive into this region and learn about their lives and cultures the same way I experienced it in the rest of Europe. In Croatia I was informed about the 1991-96 war with Bosnia and Serbia along with political corruption and life in Croatia. I didn’t know what I was getting myself into. Croatia was my first country in this region and I felt as though I was just an observer. Later, much later it became real for me.

I did have some time in Zagreb to visit some gay businesses since my travel companion was also gay.  My impression of these businesses was a bit disappointing, especially for the capital of a country. I still maintained it would get better as I traveled through the area.

I visited several Croatian cities Googling gay life and finding none but the occasional gay-friendly bar. This was my first indication I might not be able to rely on having a gay life available when I wanted or needed it. However, there are always the dating apps where I can meet some locals or fellow travelers for some sightseeing and quality time.

I came to Europe to see as many of the sights I could see. I had no plan, no itinerary and no real time limit other than my three-month visa in the Schengen Treaty.

(Entering the Schengen treaty you automatically receive 90 days over a 180 day period. The United Kingdom along with the Balkans are two areas not in the Schengen Treaty where most long-term travelers spend their time if they want to extend their trip through Europe) 

I dreamed of visiting places like Berlin, Prague and Budapest. These are big cities with established names and long, rich histories. I had no idea what I would see while visiting these cities but I knew their names and was thrilled to visit them. I am a regular American with limited geography memory and knowledge. I know the big sights to see like “Big Ben,” “Eiffel Tower” and the “Berlin Wall” but that was about it.

However, when it came to the Balkans I knew nothing. I didn’t even know if it was safe to travel. I remember it being communist and I vaguely remember wars but couldn’t recollect anything.

My 90 days were pretty much finished in the Schengen Treaty when I entered Croatia. I never thought about the Balkans and knew nothing about this side of the world. After visiting several Croatian cities I decided to keep moving through the Balkans and visit as many cities/countries as I could, meeting vacationers and travelers along the way.

While in Split, Croatia I met an American who is a long-term traveler. He had lived outside the country for several years, just traveling around, living the nomad life. My new travel buddy identifies himself as more fluid with his sexuality so it was a refreshing change from men just interested in the opposite sex.

While visiting Croatia I continued to Google gay life finding none other than that in the capital. Still it hadn’t occurred to me the rest of the Balkans could be the same. The next city my new travel buddy and I chose was Bosnia. It all changed in Bosnia.

When I enter a city I usually open the app  www.Couchsurfing.com  that has a great meet-up and hang-out features. You can also post in groups on the website telling other travelers and hosts your travel plans, in case they want to host you or meet up. This is a great resource for solo travelers.

A new dating app for me is Tender. My travel buddies in Ireland had me join so we could form “going out” groups to attract other folks, mainly girls for them. The gay apps work as well for meeting people, making lifelong friends and snagging a tour guide to show you around.

In Mostar, Bosnia I opened the gay apps and to my surprise several people offered to show me their city. I was optimistic about my Mostar experience as I met up with my first tour guide.

We began our tour with the war-torn buildings in the area. He informed us about the destruction of the city from both Croats and Serbs along with the genocide in 1995 at the hand of the Serbs. He told me all about the political corruption with the politicians embezzling money. He also shared the corrupt hiring policies. “You need to be recommended for a job interview then once offered the job; you need to PAY them to receive the job”. My first tour guide has been unemployed for a year, living at home with his family.

He then shared how the gays are not a cohesive group. They are terrified of gossip. This is a communist throw-back about your neighbor turning you in for anything and outing you in public. So my friend said he doesn’t really date and meet guys in Mostar. One of the last things he told me was “If it wasn’t for you and our tour, I would just be at home looking at my four walls contemplating my life.” He spoke about his dream of leaving Bosnia for a job in Germany since he has dual citizenship in Croatia/EU and Bosnia/not EU.

I found it very difficult to focus on what he was telling me, I couldn’t put my finger on why but it was difficult to enjoy his company while hearing such unsettling words. I felt sad and struggled during our conversation. He was so nice and open so I stuck in there.

When he found out I was heading to Sarajevo next and I didn’t have a winter coat, he offered me one of his old coats, even though he has been unemployed for a year. We made plans to meet the next day so he could give me the gift of a jacket to keep me warm.

The next day I met my second tour guide for another tour. All the same information was relayed—even confirming the fear of gossip amongst the gays. He also shared he was unemployed for three months. He is 37 years old and living at home with his family. He doesn’t have dual citizenship and isn’t interested in leaving Bosnia for a better life. He wants to stay and make a go of it. I struggled again in his company. My ears wanted to shut it all out and not listen. Later I realized my reaction to such sadness was to run away and not listen to them describe their lives. It just hurt too much. So much finger pointing, hate and fear of each other, in this region.

I didn’t know it then but my life was changing. My observation of this new land was shifting.

When I finished my second walking tour I went back to the hostel and invited my first tour guide over for some quality time. I had a private room with my travel buddy and the room was on the outside with a separate entrance. I didn’t think it would be a problem bringing someone back to my hostel in the middle of the afternoon. I was very wrong. I was kicked out and threatened to be killed by the hostel owner.

Facebook, October 6—Drew added photos at Mostar, Bosnia—

Life in Mostar Bosnia and the WAR reminders

The full story about Mostar: https://dreweric.wordpress.com/2018/01/12/he-said-i-want-to-kill-you-right-now-i-believed-him/

This was a very disturbing experience. I have since learned so much about the hostel owner and his practices from other travelers who stayed with him. It would appear the experience was about homophobia rather than rule breaking and I make this conclusion from his continued actions against my friend and me.

As an example, I found out the hostel owners brother extorted 50 Euros as hush money, something I Googled and saw as common in Bosnia. That evening the hostel owner told my friend he was going to call the police and tell them I was a drug dealer and get me arrested before I left the country. He said, “People like him need to be in jail.” My friend immediately messaged me to get out of Bosnia as soon as I could. That same night I received another message that the owner was sending out an email to get me blacklisted from the Balkan Hostel Group, so I won’t have any accommodations in the Balkan area.

My friend posted a blog about what happened to us in Bosnia, at the hands of the person who was providing us shelter. Several weeks later he got a comment on his blog from the hostel owner saying we were both kicked out of the hostel. In addition, he stated when he contacted the police, they already knew about us because we were wanted in Split, Croatia for prostitution, all lies.

Until today I have been silent about naming the hostel owner and his business. I see now how my silence isn’t helping my fellow travelers. Today is the first time I am publishing his name and business. I have been frightened by his backlash because he does comment on every post he can find. I would rather receive his backlash now, then to allow someone to stay in his hostel since he is so volatile.

I met a woman much later who stayed with him and she shared how he was pinching her cheek. She had to tell him he wasn’t allowed to touch her. She felt very uncomfortable in his presence. I heard others had similar feelings when they stayed in his hostel as well. In his defense he has plenty of positive reviews.

His name is Miran at Hostel Miran Mostar.  #hostelmiran

I do not recommend anyone staying at his hostel due to his volatility and uncontrollable anger along with inappropriate touching. I am still slightly nervous about his backlash even now.

I left the next morning early to catch the 7 a.m. bus to Sarajevo, Bosnia. I wasn’t going to leave Bosnia out of fear, I stood my ground. When I arrived in Sarajevo I found Hostel Miran posters on display. I kept my mouth shut about my experience out of fear. It wasn’t until a couple days later I shared my experience with the two young individuals working at the hostel. They were horrified and apologized for my experience in Bosnia. Later, they warmly let me know they took down his posters and will no longer be promoting his business.

I met some wonderful friends in Sarajevo and recuperated from my traumatic experience. I shared my story and everyone was supportive and kind.

Next up was a walking tour with some of my new friends. The reports of hate continued as we learned all about the horrific siege surrounding Sarajevo during the Serbian/Bosnian war. As if this wasn’t difficult enough we also went to a museum describing the atrocities put on the Sarajevo, Bosnians during the war in front of the United Nations.

Some of the atrocities were the constant sniper shooting of residents including women and children. We learned all about the Bosnian genocide of 8000 Muslim men, boys and male babies while the world watched on television. The museum described three buildings housing Muslim women and young girls, who were used as imprisoned sex slaves. This shit got real for us.

For three years the Serbs did not allow food, water, electricity or any medical supplies into Sarajevo. It took the residents of Sarajevo 21 months to dig a secret tunnel for supplies. The UN and Serbians never found the secret tunnel.

On an upside, we heard about the Sarajevo people embodied a rather unusual sense of humor in an effort to cope with the atrocities of war. They still have this sense of humor today. I was not coping well with all I was hearing especially with my time spent in Mostar so fresh. It was hard to see but I couldn’t turn away or close my eyes any longer.

I was so frightened by my experience in Mostar I didn’t pursue meeting anyone in Sarajevo other than hostel travelers. I have no idea how the gays live in Sarajevo or how they treat each other.

The highlight of Sarajevo, and a pleasant relief from the atrocities, was visiting the site of the 1984 Winter Olympics, mainly the bobsled track in the mountains. We got up early in the cold, took a taxi to the top of the mountain and walked the downhill track.

There were about five of us sharing in the experience. We took so many beautiful pictures of the graffiti bobsled track while the morning dew rose off the landscape. It was an amazing sight to behold. Less than a decade later, what was once a celebrated location around the world would be the site of atrocities while the world watched on television and remained silent.

I would like to point out how we are all still watching the atrocities of war, such as Syria and doing little about it. History keeps repeating and silence kills.

On our way down the mountain we came across two bombed out homes that were on the front line of the war. A shepherd, with his flock in toe, told us about them. He was an older shepherd who lived through the war and knew about these buildings. He said he was here fighting the Serbs in this very spot where he lets his sheep graze. It was a breathtaking view of the valley with Sarajevo in the background and the sheep grazing on the hillside. In contrast, war and destruction obstructed the view of the rest of the mountains.

As we made it down the mountain into the city we passed a huge graveyard with newer white crosses just below the old Fort. I was curious to see when the residents were buried in this location, 1996, another reminder of hate and death in our view.

Two of my hostel buddies were planning on traveling to Serbia next and visit the capital city, Belgrade. I decided to join them; the three of us got a shuttle and headed for Serbia, the main culprit of all the wars in this region. We openly discussed our feelings about visiting Serbia since we were all a bit overwhelmed with our learning about the atrocities in Bosnia at the hands of the Serbians. All three of us felt a bit guilty giving Serbia our money, supporting their economy; however we wanted to move past our ill feelings and give Serbia a chance.

We took a walking tour first thing. Have I mentioned how much I love walking tours? Our tour guide, we learned, was probably a bit more of a nationalist then we had wanted. He mentioned the war against Bosnia and stated “Bad things happen during wars and both sides did some bad things.” Then he moved on. We were surprised how he gave such a small amount of information on something so horrifying.

Later he discussed a few bombed out buildings in Belgrade and how the residents wanted to keep them as reminders of the atrocities of war. I inquired which war and he explained they were from the 1999 war when Bill Clinton bombed Sarajevo.

The Serbia war against Bosnia ended in 1996. Then when Kosovo wanted to succeed from Serbia, because they feel more Albanian then Serbian, Serbia went to war with them. Apparently the only atrocities of war this nationalist wants to remember is when they were the victims of bombing.

During the tour, our guide told us the measures they took to join the European Union (EU) by giving up “war criminals” and other measures. Then the EU came back and said to let Kosovo go. The guide told us, “90% of Serbs would go to war tomorrow to keep Kosovo, we feel it belongs to us.” Later he said he didn’t understand why they aren’t accepted into the EU. I am not sure why he couldn’t see their warring attitude as a deterrent for acceptance in the EU, it seemed obvious to my friends and me. Again, more hate, finger pointing and placing blame.

While in Belgrade I Googled gay bars and found one that was open on a daily basis. I took my two travel buddies, a German guy and an American girl, to get a look at the place. It was small and pretty cute but not a lot of patrons on a Monday night. Still I was happy to be in a place of comfort and safety while traveling the Balkans.

Serbia isn’t all bad though; my German friend told me that after Berlin, Belgrade is the hip place to be for bars, nightclubs and techno music. Many people from around the Balkans and Europe come here to party, who knew?

I finally went on the dating apps the last day in Belgrade and met a young man for coffee. He confirmed all the same information about gossip and gay life in Serbia. He is “out” at work however not “out” at home with his family. He wasn’t dating and rarely meets up with other gays for dates out of fear of gossip. Again, I was confronted with the fears the gays feel in their own lives and country. He also said he doesn’t visit the bars much for the same reason.

My travel buddy from Croatia told me just before I went to Sarajevo about his experience in Belgrade. When he arrived and came out of his hostel the streets were blocked and full of police with guns. He inquired what was happening with fear of terrorism and they replied it was a gay pride parade that day and they were out to protect the citizens from harm during the parade.

He made a video blog about the experience and posted it online. This video blog turned out to be his most popular blog post to date with views and comments, most with hate and anger towards the gay community. It terrified him so much he left immediately and vowed never to return to such a homophobic country.

Time had come for the three travel buddies to part ways. I enjoyed them and appreciated their support during my difficult time in Bosnia.

Next up, crossing the border from Serbia to Romania. I had a difficult time getting across the border.

Facebook, October 11—Drew—

I have taken two buses, dropped at the border walked into Romania only to discover there is no transport on the other end to take me to my city. Oops. Thought this was a bit more organized when I started this morning. Online it seemed like it was. I have now hitched a ride to what appears to be an old train station. A man walked up when I did and said the train to Timisoara is this way. I boarded, sitting on the train now. I don’t have a ticket. I only have Serbian money and there doesn’t seem like an ATM is going to be handy. Wish me luck.

Facebook, October 11—Drew— 

#ACTofKindness 14 When I didn’t have Romanian money, the train conductor gave me a free train ride to Timisoara

Facebook, October 11—Drew posted a photo—

Ride the rails, retro style. 

Facebook, October 11—Drew— 

#ACTofKindness 15 After I walked across the border from Serbia to Romania on my way to Timisoara I realized there was no city, no buses or transport to move me along. So I stuck out my thumb. Two guys picked me up after 15 minutes drove me a few miles to a train station where I was able to take a train directly into Timisoara.

Facebook, October 12—Drew— 

#Lifelesson Trust and all problems are solved now. A quote from “A Course in Miracles” Yesterday was very adventurous walking over the border and hitchhiking. I was walking between Serbia and Romania thinking… “Oh this isn’t looking right” then my next thought was to trust and take this as part of the adventure. I laughed and shrugged off any negativity. I was afraid of hitchhiking while on this trip. A couple friends were doing it and it was beyond my comprehension. However, once I was in Romania and seeing I was several miles from a town hitchhiking was a great idea. Even when I got in their car I totally didn’t care where they dropped me off I figured it would be better than walking in the middle of nowhere.

In Timisoara I didn’t have a chance to meet any locals and learn about gay life since I was there such a short time. However, I did Google gay life in Timisoara and learned there were no gay bars anywhere. I did visit a Romanian Revolution Museum with a couple of guys from the hostel. Did I mention I love history? The revolution against their dictator started in Timisoara and spread throughout the country within a week in 1989. At the end of the week Nicolai Ceausescu and his wife, Elena were captured. They were tried and killed on Christmas Day for the atrocities they committed against their people, more hate, blame and finger-pointing, it just doesn’t let up.

Facebook, October 12—Drew— 

#ACTofKindness 16 A nice traveler from my hostel loaned me money for a museum and lunch after we just met, as we toured together in Romania.

Between history lessons, I was able to hang with people in the hostel and play cards with other travelers. So it wasn’t all doom and gloom. However, It rained the entire time I was in Romania, sad but true. It probably contributed nicely to the spooky ambiance and my history lessons.

Facebook, October 12—Drew— 

#ACTofKindness 17 To all the travelers that entertained me with hours of cards. I thank you for your kindness. Cards came with wine, popcorn, beer and chocolate.

I remember hearing about the Victorian age and Victorian architecture as it relates to haunted houses. From what I learned on National Public Radio(NPR), around the time television was creating “The Munsters” and “The Adam’s Family” and directors were filming Frankenstein and Vampire movies, Victorian homes fell out of popularity and into disrepair. Victorian homes reached their popularity from 1830-1910 and are very ornate with elaborate trim and bright colors. So when the film industry was creating spooky homes, Victorian’s where the ones that fit the bill since the colors had long faded and the ornate decorations had only partially remained. I am assuming Timisoara was built up during the Victorian age because that’s exactly how it looked, dark, old and spooky. This architecture only added to the allure of Romania, coincidently the birthplace of Dracula. Did I mention it never stopped raining while I was in Romania?

Facebook, October 13—Drew added new photos in Romania—

I’m on a bus riding through Romania with a violent war movie playing on two TVs. I have been learning all about the wars, rebellions and the fall of communism in this region of the world. Outside it’s grey and cold. The bus is silent but warm. I just finished a crime drama written by #davidbaldacci. The landscape is barren and the buildings in need of repairs. This feels surreal and haunted from the deaths gone by.

Next city was Sibiu and I stayed in playing cards with the new travelers at the hostel. I went on the apps but didn’t meet anyone right off. I was feeling a bit lonely and still recovering from Mostar. The next day, my first full day in Sibiu, I decided was the day I needed to finish my short story on Mostar. I spent five hours writing, proofing then posting the story. It was difficult to relive. It left me depressed in this strange new city with rain and darkness beating me down.

Facebook, October 13 —Drew checked in to Smart Hostel Sibiu—

Here

I decided to give Sibiu another day so I could see a little of what the town had to offer. Most all the other travelers were leaving the next day. I did get to do some morning sightseeing with them before they left. There wasn’t a walking tour available, just a descriptive map of the city and what to see. I didn’t get any history or learn anything about gay life in Sibiu. Overall my emotions during Sibiu were raw and I struggled with my mood. So a break from history was fine with me.

Facebook, October 15—Drew— 

#ACTofKindness 18 My last day in Sibiu I met a local man who offered to give me a ride to the bus station to avoid the rain. Next stop, Bucharest, the capital of Romania. 

When I reached Bucharest it was still raining, of course, and I had to make my way to the Hostel on foot. It was dark, wet and cold on this autumn night but I was optimistic, barely.

I Googled gay bars and found out the only gay dance club was open on Friday and Saturday nights. Today was Sunday so I missed out. The only place available was a gay-friendly bar.

So what do I do on my first day in the Capitol of Romania? I join a walking tour for some history, of course. I met a lovely young gay couple from Israel. We spent the entire day together. We did the walking tour then we visited the capitol building for yet another walking tour, WOW, 2 tours in one day, I am in heaven. I learned so much. At the capital we met a couple of Americans from my hometown. The world is small.

Facebook, October 19—Drew checked in at Berarie Gambrinus—

I had tripe (cow stomach) and pork brains for dinner. I am living on the edge in Romania. 

Now a little about the history of the Romanian dictator: Apparently he got mad at the World Bank in the 70s and decided to pay off all their debt. At the same time he created a massive building project in the Capitol, and I mean massive. He tore down 34,000 homes and displaced families so he could build his own Empire/Palace/Germania.

(Hitler had plans drawn up to remodel Berlin in the style of a Roman empire that would last for 1000 years and solidify his place in history. He wanted to call it Germania. Something I learned while on a walking tour in Germany of course. The people living in this region during the Roman times were called Germanic People and the Romans also referred to this region as Germania.)

While Nicolai and his wife were building their empire and paying back the World Bank through the 1980s, he was starving his country. This eventually led to a one week revolt and the end of his life. Touring his Palace/Parliament building I was able to see his vision. It was the most beautiful interior imaginable. Today it stands as the second largest government building in the world. The Pentagon is the largest.

During this period he was also exporting goods, such as new tractors the Romanian citizens were building in factories. However he was selling them at a loss to other countries just to show Romanians were able to produce goods and export into the world economy. The tractors he sold, and melted down for their metal, since the metal was worth more than the tractors. This would be called self-destructive economics. Further examples of how power is destructive to the people you are governing.

I went on the dating apps for some friendly conversation. Unfortunately a consistent theme throughout the Balkans is to chat for a bit then never meet up. I hear and saw it over and over again. With so much fear and closeted gay men you don’t always get to know people.

I did reach out to a person when I was out with my friends at the gay-friendly bar. He was at the same bar however he was with someone and couldn’t let them know he was gay. Sad, but true.

The next night I made a date with another traveler on business by using the dating app. I got ready and took a 30 minute bus to where he was staying. When I arrived it became apparent I was lured to a hotel room with no guest. I was cat-fished and my cat-fisher was somewhere else bearing witness to my foolishness in believing he was a real person. This didn’t help my already fragile mood from Mostar. I left Romania feeling down.

Off to Sofia, Bulgaria.

Facebook, October 19—Drew checked in at Romania-Bulgaria Bridge—

Crossing the border from Romania to Bulgaria… Never in a million years did I expect to experience this moment. But here I am, on a bus, crossing the border. Can’t wait to see what happens in Bulgaria. So excited.

Now is a good time to share the tourist sites of the Balkans. It was about this time I started to realize there isn’t that much to see as compared to the Eiffel Tower or Big Ben and Tower Bridge (thought to be London Bridge). The Balkans can be a beautiful place to visit however it’s a lower level excitement as compared to Italy, France, Germany and England along with Hungary and Czech Republic.

I am not sure who said it first but we quickly created and played the “Balkan Bingo”. Which consist of:

“B” the old stone bridge,

“I” river,

“N” fort/castle,

“G” clock tower and

“O” the mosque.

Most all cities in the Balkans has them on their “top 10 list of sights to see” along with a few statues, monuments and churches.

I am not saying the Balkans isn’t a great place to visit, but they are a lower level excitement as compared to some other areas of Europe. Each city had the Bingo/5 things to see. Combine that with wars, dictators, famine, genocide and hate along with the 1950s gay lifestyle of secrecy and fear of gossip, it’s no wonder I got homesick around this time.

It was probably halfway through my seven weeks in the Balkans I started to realize the impact it was having on my wellbeing and happiness. Sadness was slowly creeping up on me, each day.

Home was a war zone of finger pointing and hate for the “others”. The 2016 election was full-blown mudslinging. It was all over the news media wherever I was traveling at the time. On my journey I regularly used Facebook to lift my spirits for those moments of sadness I occasionally experienced. However now, hate was in my feed and I didn’t have a safe place to lift my spirits.

I thought at the time I would rise above the petty fighting and not chime in with my opinion on politics. I was wrong. From all I learned here in the Balkans I can’t keep quiet. I must speak up and point out where I see attitudes and opinions that could use some new insights.

Back to Sofia, Bulgaria…

I arrived in Sofia still a bit down. I’m feeling homesick, sad from being cat-fished in Bucharest and not meeting anybody in my last hostel to travel or hangout with. I decided to make some changes and shake things up in Sofia to break this feeling of despair.

I log into the apps and let my presence be known. I haven’t been on couchsurfing.com for a while and I tried a new tactic for meeting locals. I sent out messages to all the men on couch surfing that had similar interests as I, letting them know I am in town and looking to meet some locals for drinks and hang out. This turned out to be a great way to get the ball rolling because two people responded and we scheduled a time to meet.  I was meeting one that same evening for a drink at a local bar.

He gave me some insights about the gay scene in town. They have a big club with great music open on Friday and Saturday nights. I planned on being here in the capitol with the idea of going out Saturday night. My new friend told me he was happy with the gay life in Sofia. He has friends, he dates, he even travels to Serbia to go out (the party town of the Balkans). I mention gossip and people remaining in the closet and all the other issues I heard about and he agreed. That is all still present here, but overall he was happy with his life. This was refreshing to hear.

Later that day, I planned to meet another couch surfer host for a drink and conversation. Months earlier he invited me to stay with him “if and when” I arrived in Sofia. However I hadn’t couch-surfed in a while and completely forgot about the invitation. Once I messaged him, I read over our previous conversations. He seemed nice and I looked forward to meeting him.

Also that evening was a couch surfing meet-up that I was interested in attending. Meet-ups are great places to hang out with other travelers. You never know who you will meet and there is always a chance you can be traveling in the same direction.

I mentioned to my new couch surfing friend about the meet-up and we agreed to check it out. It was a small group of three attendees. A Columbian who organized it was about my age. Another Latino (I didn’t get his country) and a 19-year-old from Finland. Guess who ended up being my new travel buddy for the next couple weeks, yup, the Fin, more about him later.

Over beers, I connected the Fin and my couch-surfing host friend so he’d have a place to stay. The Fin mentioned he was heading to Macedonia after Sofia, which was my plan. I decided to stay an extra day in Sofia with them, couch surf one night, then leave Monday morning on a bus for Skopje, Macedonia with the Fin.

Saturday we made plans for a walking tour of Sofia, hosted by our host. We walked for several hours as we saw all Sofia had to offer. He shared so many interesting tidbits we wouldn’t have gotten if we toured on our own.

Facebook, October 23—Drew checked in at Sofia Synagogue— 

#ACTofKindness 19 My new Bulgarian friend took three of us around Sofia on a personal walking tour for several hours. Kind man to give so much of his time to strangers!

Coincidently we ran into our other meet-up couch surfing friend, the Latin who was around my age, then we were four touring Sofia. This type of thing happens all the time when you run into people over and over again, as you are all touring the same areas. It is always a welcome experience while traveling solo. You never really feel completely alone.

Saturday evening I had plans to hit the town and see what Sofia’s gay bar had to offer. I was still down and homesick and was hoping to meet and make some friends.

Once the bar filled up I was able to meet a Bulgarian who drove into town for a night out. He was from a city an hour and a half outside Sofia and came in to share in the city’s gay life. We talked for a bit as we watched the locals dancing and mingling with their friends. It was refreshing to be out among other gay men in a regular environment. It felt like home again and I forgot all about this being the Balkans.

As the night progressed, I reached my quota of fun for the evening. I saw, I talked and I was ready for bed after a long day and an enjoying night out in Sofia.

It’s a funny thing how your attitude impacts your vision. Here I was struggling with my attitude about the cities, the Balkans, meeting people and I wasn’t really giving Sofia a chance. I was doing everything to my best ability and I was getting everything I was hoping for. Yet I couldn’t see it as easily as that.

Once I realized I wasn’t giving Sofia a chance my mood shifted and improved. Then I was able to see all my efforts were working well. I was able to make friends, get a place to stay and even found a travel buddy. It was a struggle to pull myself out of the funk I created in Romania.

Sunday night my Bulgarian couch-surfing friend offered shelter to me and the Fin. This gave the Fin and I time to plan a visit to Skopje. Macedonia would make my 6th country and 12th city in the Balkans. We were not prepared for what we were about to see in Macedonia.

Facebook, October 24—Drew— 

#ACTofKindness 20 my Bulgarian tour guide invited me and a friend into his home for shelter and warmth my last night in Sofia, great hospitality. Loved his big old lab and his adorable kitten running around the house leaving a wake of fur and mayhem.

We called Skopje the “Las Vegas” of the Balkans, not the cool hip Vegas but rather the over the top, ridiculous Vegas.

Skopje, Macedonia (The Former Yugoslav Republic of Macedonia, pronounced Skopy) has the 5th largest cross in the world and the largest cross in the Balkans. It also has an Arc De Triumph or rather an Ark De Accomplishment since they have never triumphed over anything. They have a fountain with the world’s largest “Warrior on a Horse” also known as Alexander the Great. Greece has a patent on Alexander so they can’t use the name. Greece also has a patent on the name Macedonia so they can’t use that name either. The UN has accepted the name Macedonia FYROM-The Former Yugoslav Republic of Macedonia. This city is bizarre. I am talking really BIZARRE. Nothing is real or authentic, not even the names.

They have multiple fountains and more than 1600 statues in the city center. The main fountain “Warrior on a horse, not to be confused with Alexander the Great) was built for a modest 8 million plus Euros, while the beggar and shoe shine statues were cast for a modest 80k, which is more money than both the shoe shiner and beggar will make in a lifetime. It’s been reported they have spent between 200 and 500 million on what is now infamously called the “Skopje 2014” construction project including a complete redesign of the city center.

In a region recently torn from wars and communism, In an effort to attract tourists, Macedonia is ordering statues from Italy to create a city with the most bizarre appearance. One fountain has lions that don’t really fit on the marble base. Buildings have more than 20 statues adorning their exterior, similar to old Roman monuments and the original Coliseum. Bridges have statues running along the railings like the bridge in Rome.

It’s not just bizarre statues; in addition they are building three pirate ships to hold restaurant/retail space. During the walking tour (I love walking tours) we were told the mayor visits other famous cities and sees things that intrigue him. He comes home and has them built or shipped over, hence the pirate ships and Arc de Triumph.

Once he saw three islands in France in the middle of the River Seine in France, with three willow trees. He was so inspired he spent thousands having the same three willows shipped to Skopje. However, without three islands he had three stainless steel planter boxes placed next to one of the pirate ships where he planted his willows. Sadly it would appear two aren’t doing so well. We were told during the walking tour that he even has plans for the London Eye and Spanish steps from Rome.

The old stone bridge and the old stone fort along with the Byzantine heritage area and Ottoman district are easily overshadowed. New construction is everywhere—museums, government buildings and a National theater. Advertising is not small either. Huge signs adorn building tops and one giant video screen that shows advertising directly on the square near the multimillion Euro fountain of the Warrior on a horse (not Alexander).

One positive note, the city holds the honor of baptizing Mother Teresa. There is a modest museum and church on the grounds of the original church(destroyed in an earthquake) where she was baptized. Several of the Balkans countries have special ties to Mother Teresa—or as she is now known, Saint Teresa—and are proud of her.

Facebook, October 25—Drew posted a photo— 

“What can you do to promote world peace? Go home and love your family”—Mother Teresa

Overall it was uncomfortable. I couldn’t help but be overwhelmed and concerned for the citizens of Macedonia. They have started to protest the “Skopje 2014” project. It is the second year of protest and this year they chose to call it the “Color Revolution” by using paint balloons and throwing them at sculptures and buildings. This along with painting the statues in conspicuous places, i.e., lions balls are painted red. The paint adds to the allure of the unusualness. All this reminds me of the dictator in Romania building his Germania.

Calling the demonstration the “Color Revolution” has had an impact on tourism. Inevitably the word “Color” gets left off the “Revolution” and tourists assume the worst and choose a different country for their vacation. Personally, I would love to go back in ten years to see the final results. I am sure it will be powerful and entertaining and grotesque.

Since I was with the Fin, I had little time to socialize outside our time together and didn’t meet any local gays. I did a quick search and found no gay establishments for a drink or conversation. Our next stop is Prishtina, the capital of Kosovo.

Facebook, October 28—Drew posted a photo from Instagram at Prishtina City— 

“We are a piece of the bigger puzzle, together we fit.”—Drew Eric

Bill Clinton is a huge deal in Kosovo. Now we are traveling back in time to the 1999 war with Serbia (again with Serbia) and Kosovo. Just a reminder, Serbia doesn’t want to let any of the Yugoslavian cities go, including Kosovo. So when Serbia goes on the attack shortly after the war with Bosnia, Bill Clinton and the UN respond. Bill Clinton sees an opportunity for a well placed, strategic military base and tells the United Nations, America is bombing Serbia and defending Kosovo. They love Bill Clinton for this. More war and devastation in the Balkans.

When the Fin and I arrived in Prishtina, we chose a hostel right on the main walking street in city center. I pull up Trip Adviser for the top 10 sites in Kosovo. This time the sites were so limited they only listed several statues. After coming from Macedonia, the statue capitol of the world, seeing Bill Clinton, Mother Teresa and another warrior on a horse in statue style, made it amusing. There was no old stone bridge or fort. We didn’t see a river but they did have a couple of mosques, no Balkan Bingo here.

I opened the gay apps and immediately met a nice guy who joined us for lunch. He was Indian and has lived in Kosovo for many years and just moved back to town. He was our tour guide in this city. He told me all about Bill Clinton and what Kosovo is like. He also said the UN threw tons of money at Kosovo to no avail. He called it the UN’s biggest mistake in history.

All these years later, Kosovo is still struggling to make ends meet. Soon the UN will be pulling out of Kosovo and leaving them to govern. Like the rest of the Balkans, politics are a bit of a mess, including corruption. It just never lets up here.

Prior to lunch, I noticed several men and even teen boys holding hands, kissing each other’s checks and walking arm-in-arm down the street. I saw so many coupled men; it was the first thing I questioned my lunch companion about. He confirmed my observation stating the men here are extremely affectionate with each other, however not gay. It’s a strange twist here in the Balkans—being affectionate with each other while still maintaining homophobia.

The rest of our Prishtina consisted of an American movie “Snowden,” and a jazz club with a Gypsy jazz live band, great fun. So it wasn’t all doom and gloom from wars and lack of gay life.

Prizren, Kosovo was our next stop. Once we arrived in Prizren we were back on the Balkan Bingo: bridge, fort, river, mosque and the clock tower were all present. Once we finished Bingo in five minutes, I took a Fin break and met a couple locals who told me about gay life here in Prizren.

Apparently gay marriage is legal however gays don’t marry each other because of fear of being killed or being ostracized from their family and friends. He has a wife which allows him to maintain his cover. I met him and his best friend/workout partner. He told me they workout everyday in an effort to see each other. Occasionally they meet travelers allowing them the opportunity to have intimacy since they can’t date in this small town.

There is a local business/hostel that rents for a few hours. It is a large apartment with a bathroom and a garage to pull your car into and close the door for added privacy. It costs 10 Euros which is a lot. One of the men is 37, has a job but only makes 300 Euros a month while the younger 29-year-old recently graduated from college and has been unemployed for a few months. Meaning travelers have to pay for the private hostel if their meeting goes in that direction. He expressed his discomfort with asking tourists to pay for the room but explained “10 Euros is just out of my budget living in Kosovo.” I felt his sincerity and sadness simultaneously.

My travel buddy and I were splitting up the following day heading in different directions. The Fin was going to South Albania while I was going north to Southern Montenegro. We planned to reunite in Shkoder, Albania, the week after for a hike up the Albanian Alps, also affectionately called the Accursed Mountains.

I did a quick 2 nights in Podgorica, Montenegro, the capital. Saw some, most of the bingo then moved on. It was my first time in a hostel solo, felt weird.

Kotor, Montenegro did not disappoint. There was Bingo along with an amazing view of the sea from the mountains. What a beautiful little town, no wonder it’s a port-of-call for cruise ships.

There was no walking tour, no gay bars and the nightlife ends at 11:00 p.m. Something else I noticed, once you reach the coastline and the Mediterranean Sea, you leave behind the Balkan wars and politics. It’s all beauty and relaxation and touristy as if it was always this way. The coastal areas of the Balkans are the gems of the Mediterranean Sea for new tourism. I met some really nice people in this hostel, another American along with a trio of Australian girls in a comedy group.

Budva, another beautiful coastal city in Montenegro is next. I met more travelers in the hostel and we shared wine and stories of our adventures and the wars of the Balkans and homophobia of the past, which faded in the distance with each mile that I separated myself from inland Balkans.

Next stop, a bus to Shkoder, Albania to meet up with my Fin friend one more time and then hike the Accursed Mountains. On the bus is a mash-up of hostel friends—some from the hostel I am leaving in Budva and some from the hostel in Kotor. My Kotor buddies are heading to Shkoder, while others are moving on to the capital of Albania, Tirana.

The Fin and I arrived around the same time in Shkoder. Just before dark so we have time to hike up to the fort/castle on the hill for breathtaking sunset views. We could also see the river from the fort. My Kotor buddies join us for the walk. As we climb to the fort one of the many wild dogs throughout the Balkans follows us as our leader and protector. He stayed with us all the way up to the castle, toured the top then came down with us midway until he got distracted and we lost him. It was the first time a wild dog attached to my group and was so friendly.

The next morning the Fin, I and an English bloke caught the bus to Theth, the mountain base camp, before the hike. On the bus was none other than the American from Kotor. Crazy how that happens. The American was hiking that same day, we were planning to hike the next day and the Brit was just going to visit the town. After a long bus ride and a couple of shots of Albanian Rookie (Albanian moonshine), the four of us decided to hike the same day. This meant we needed to get over to the other side of the mountain rather fast to reach town before nightfall so we weren’t lost in the dark and unable to find the trail.

All went well during the hike and an amazing group of new friends was formed. Next stop is a ferry down the river back to Shkoder then onto Tirana, the capital of Albania. The four of us decide to visit Tirana together rather than split up—more travel buddies.

The first thing we did was to join the walking tour and learn all about Albania. Albania was not a part of Yugoslavia; it had its own dictator named Hoxha who was at one time friends with Yugoslavia, Russia and China. However, later he unfriended them for not being more Stalin-like. He died in 1985, pretty much freeing the country just before Yugoslavia fell after their dictator Tito died in 1980.

What a terrible dictator, in the sense he had no friends and cut his country off from the entire world. This left his country with no trade, no products and no friends, they had to produce everything. Citizens of Albania never saw a banana and were afraid to eat it once it was introduced. They weren’t allowed to have cars or watch outside television or movies. The only thing they saw for a while was old Chinese movies and the Chinese coincidently were watching old Albanian movies at the same time.

I had heard about Albanians being friendly. I mean like super friendly. So happy you are in their country and happy to help you with any of your needs while you are here. They were like that neighbor on the block with no friends who eventually befriended one of the popular kids and was catapulted into the popular crowd while still remaining kinda awkward. What a pleasure to be in Albania, they were so hospitable.

In Croatia, Romania, Bulgaria and such, I observed men in their workplace; they tended to be gruff, short or even just harsh/mean. I was told not to take offense, it’s just the nature of men in the Balkans. These Balkan men are smiling, friendly and kind. What a change,(workplace i.e. money exchange, shopkeepers, salesman)

These people were poor and their capitol showed it. But man, were they happy. One startling change was everyone drove a Mercedes. I was told it was possibly nouveau riche but hell, I don’t blame them.

After Tirana we all split up. It was the last time I would see my Fin friend. The Brit and he both moved on while the American and I went south for our last Albanian City before Greece. I was finally leaving the Balkans after almost seven weeks. It was difficult being in the Balkans. So much war, so much destruction, so much distrust among the Balkan people and gay men. So much finger pointing, blaming dictators, other countries and other gays for everything wrong in their life.

Adding to the difficult experience of being gay in the Balkans was the lack of rewarding monuments and tourist attractions. Of course I saw some great things and had some amazing times, but I never dreamed of visiting the Balkans as a child, so spending seven long weeks was wearing on my soul. Not like visiting Venice, Paris or London where your soul can be born again.

When I left America, Bernie Sanders was still running and Trump was just bullying everyone including his opponents on the Republican side. My last day in the Balkans ending 7 long weeks coincided with November 8th, election day in America.

Facebook, November 8—Drew—

”I pledge allegiance to the Flag of the United States of America, and to the Republic for which it stands, one Nation, indivisible, with liberty and justice for all.” 🇺🇸🇺🇸🇺🇸🇺🇸🇺🇸🇺🇸🇺🇸🇺🇸🇺🇸🇺🇸🇺🇸🇺🇸🇺🇸🇺🇸🇺🇸🇺🇸

I just spent the last 7 weeks seeing the impact “remaining quiet” and staying in the closet does to a gay community. The Balkans was 1950s gay life in America all over again.

Because the Balkan residents remain quiet, people don’t know who is gay and it perpetuates homophobia. In order for their life to improve they need someone to stand up and take the lead. They need to throw the door open on homosexuality and scream from the streets like Americans did in NYC at Stonewall when the drag queens rioted for 3 days burning cars and beating cops.

They need unity not fear. They fear each other and their happiness diminishes from lack of dates and relationships. They need to come together, get organized and come out causing homophobia to be pushed out of Balkan society.

While on my trip, and during the entire election period, I said nothing. I chose to rise above what I saw as petty fighting and let the “Others” fight it out on Facebook and in the news. I chose to keep my political views silent as to not offend anyone.

So when I went to bed election night it was way early for votes to be counted and when I woke to my alarm at 6 a.m. it was 9 p.m. in Los Angeles, perfect timing for some serious poll numbers. I was shocked to see the preliminary results, Trump is in the lead. As the morning progressed the election was called and it was done. I, among many, was in a state of Shock and Dismay.

Facebook, November 9—Drew posted a photo— 

I am joined in the kitchen of my Albania hostel by 1 Canadian and 3 Americans. We woke up early at 6 a.m. to share in the American experience.

Now let me tie it all together for you. While traveling gay, through the Balkans I saw a consistent theme, silence and hate. When I went to Facebook for some relief I was silent and all I saw was hate for “The Others” with different beliefs and political views. I saw Deplorable and Nasty Americans, blaming, hating and not listening to each other regardless of their political views.

Facebook, November 9—Drew— 

I choose peace, Peace for all Americans. I send you all love, Democrats and Republicans alike. I send love to all religions, all nationalities, all races, and all sexualities. We are all the same and we all want peace. Let’s start a new campaign of peace now that the election is over. Let’s!!!

The following week, while I joined my fellow liberal Americans in a state of shock, I saw America and the Balkans, with new eyes seeing for the first time, similarities. American’s aren’t any better than Balkan citizens willing to start a war because of different religious views. Americans don’t rise above blaming others for their problems. Americans don’t welcome other immigrants. I am not better than gay Balkan citizens because I remained silent during such an important election.

Wars and genocide start because conversation ends. When two parties can no longer listen or communicate, walls are put up and concentration camps are created. I saw so many of my Facebook friends stating they are blocking anyone who has a different opinion than them. Those same people shared and posted hate statements and negative memes, to people that only believe the same as they do, in other words, preaching to the choir. I saw Americans degrading each other, calling others lazy Liberals and uneducated Conservatives. And those are the polite terms.

What I realized, if we come from a place of hate and blame we will never get anything accomplished. We need to listen to each other. Hear why the other team feels this way. How can we help them while protecting our own rights and beliefs? That’s all we want, is to live the American dream as free-thinking individuals. Like we tell our children, use your words. Unkind memes and name calling only perpetuate anger and hate. We need to speak intelligently and state what we want. We also need to listen to “The Others”.

Facebook, November 9—Drew— 

“If we have no peace, it’s because we have forgotten that we belong to each other”—Mother Teresa  

Honestly, I don’t know the needs of middle America. I don’t know why they want the swamp of Washington drained. I don’t know why they feel a man with no political experience is better than a Senator/Secretary of State with experience. I don’t know anything about them.

I have traveled the world now and have learned so much. Soon I am going home to my land of the free and I want to learn about it. I need to learn about it. I want to be the change in the world I want to see. My country needs me and my opinion. I want to make a difference by learning, listening and speaking up for my needs and rights in an intelligent way.

So I would like to challenge you all. Stop posting hateful comments. Use your words. Learn what their needs are and why aren’t their needs being met? Then share why your needs are important. Figure out how you can make a difference in our country, in a constructive way. Try a new approach because what we have been doing apparently didn’t work out so well.

I can live in a world where we all belong to ourselves and to each other. I plan on co-creating that world. Will you join me, as my co-creator?

Facebook, November 9—Drew— 

“I can see others in my own likeness, searching for connection and love amongst others, searching for love and connection.”—Drew Eric

Facebook, November 9—Drew—

This is my open letter to Donald John Trump. I am using my words and speaking my truth. I am taking a stand and declaring, I will be watching and speaking up. 

Dear Donald John Trump, 

I would like to start with congratulations on your being our new President-elect. I have been out of the country since mid-May and really have little knowledge of your policies or expected direction. I have watched your acceptance speech and I am very happy how supportive your speech was. 

I was happy to hear you say, “We need to bind the wounds of division”. 

What great words and so true at this time. You also stated, “It’s time for us to come together as one united people, it’s time”. I couldn’t agree more. 

We have so many political parties, races, sexualities, ethnicities and religions. You are exactly correct, we need to come together to work as one for the great land we call America. 

What I most appreciated and was happiest to hear was your pledge to me and all Americans. “I pledge to every citizen of our land that I will be President for all Americans and this is so important to me”. Those words are so valuable for me to hear and believe. 

As an American man, I can practice any religion I choose because America was founded on freedom of religion. I can marry any person I choose because the Supreme Court has deemed it legal. I have free speech as my right as an American and can speak out honestly and openly about my government at any time because we are not a dictatorship or a Communist country. I will choose to do this going forward. 

I have seen and learned so much while traveling in Europe. I have seen oppression from wars, dictatorships and bigotry. I have been threatened with my life because I am a gay man. I am pleased you consider me an American and want to be my President—not because I am straight or gay or belong to a certain religion. I am an American and that’s good enough for you. You said so in your acceptance speech and I will hold you to those words. 

This past election I chose not to voice my beliefs or opinions on any candidates. I allowed others to battle it out on Facebook, television and in the papers. Now you, as our new President-elect have put out a request to us. 

“I am reaching out to you for your guidance and your help, so we can work together and unify our great country.” 

I pledge to you, Donald John Trump, here and now, I will no longer keep quiet. I will work to inform you on my views and beliefs, on how I see what needs to be done in this country. I will do this with respect and kindness and consideration for all Americans.  I will continue to stand for our rights in this country and the fundamentals it was founded on.

As our new President, you will have the House, Senate and potentially a seat on the Supreme Court. I look forward to the new opportunities you will bring to our great land while keeping the foundations we have always believed in—human rights, health, religious freedom and liberty. If I feel you are pivoting away from our American foundations, I will let you know. I will not use profanity or divisive words because I am well aware that I will not be heard. My intention is to be heard, clearly and respectfully and with heavy concern. 

I attempted to vote from Europe and wasn’t able to. I am at fault for that. I am at fault for not expressing my opinions and values for all to know. I will not make that mistake again. I am on your team, Donald John Trump, as my new President-Elect and I will use my right to free speech to let you know how I want you to govern our great land. 

Respectfully,

Drew Eric

This is to you, the reader:

I encourage you to use your words and speak your truths.  Inform our new President in your words, as a concerned citizen with your voice, letting go of divisive words in an effort to be heard, and let him know how you want him to govern. Let’s release our anger and move forward together, believing in us, American Citizens. Together, we can make a difference. 

“Never doubt that a small group of thoughtful committed citizens can change the world; indeed, it’s the only thing that ever has”—Margaret Mead

While traveling the Balkans I learned about wars, genocide, political corruption, anger, finger pointing, gossip, rebellions, dictators, ruling empires and the realities of being gay in Eastern, formerly communist countryside. November 2016, Backpacking Europe, my Journey-of-Self-Discovery Can I do this; can I live in this world and remember we belong to each other?