An Ode To Simon-One-Feather

Many a time, we have been present when somebody has asked our mother where her children have inherited their wanderlust from. With an exaggerated eye roll and a dramatic, extended sigh, she often replies: "Have you met their father?"

The most important adventure of our lives took place some twenty years before we were even born. In the early sixties, our dad, a young punk equipped with an education degree and not much else, did something considered completely radical for his time. He up and left his close-knit but poor community in Cape Breton Island and headed for the Canadian North, where he spent several years working, living, and playing on First Nation territory. It has been through his epic story-telling that has both intrigued and influenced us to continously seek travel experiences and cross-cultural exchanges of our own.

As youngsters, along with our older siblings, we were frequently lined up on the chesterfield where we were forced to watch our father's slide shows and were given a lesson in geography. When you grow up hearing about dog sledding across the Northern Frontier, having grizzly bears interrupt your picnic lunches, chasing bear cubs up a tree for photo ops, teaching alpine skiing with a future olympic champion, drinking sherry brandy by the fire on cold nights to keep warm, and rolling in the snow in minus 30 degree weather before proceeding to jump into natural hot springs, you come to expect nothing less than to someday be experiencing life's most extraordinary moments yourself.

So while our mother Annie-Pants lies awake at night, wondering where she went wrong with her globe-trotting children, we continue to be inspired by Simon-One-Feather. Long before the discovery channel and self-help books, he has taught and shown us by example to not be afraid to take the road less travelled.

(Simon- One- Feather at 60 below in the Yukon (Wayyyy back in the day))

( July 2012:  A 70- year old Simon in Europe when most "dependers" his age are buying walkers and checking into nursing homes.)

Dear Travel, Sometimes You Suck. 25 Things I Hate About You.

Whenever I begin to develop travel envy, I just think of all the elements of travel that are not that glamorous.......

1. The Transitory Lifestyle of Backpacking: A few years ago, I spent the summer months in Banff, Alberta, where I lived in a big house with other backpackers from around the world. One of my roomates was a German fellow who refused to talk to me. I took it personally at first, until one of our friends informed me of the main reason why he didn't want to befriend me. He knew I was probably going to up and leave in a few weeks. He had been living there for awhile, and had seen many other people come and go. At the time, I thought it was an immature way of thinking, but have since come to understand how he felt. Spending and sharing moments in time with people, and watching them leave five minutes later, is the most difficult and challenging aspect of travel.

2. Having to Ward Off North American Stereotypes: Yes, I know. We are fat. We eat way too much, love our fast food, and are greedy. We are also easy and slutty. We all act like the women you see in porno movies, and as a result, we deserve to be degraded, have crude remarks directed at us, and be treated like bimbos. All we have to do is stand in front of ATM machines, and money will pour out (we have super-powers like that). Everyone is rich, we all drive expensive cars, and live in mansions like you see on Hollywood reality tv shows. North Americans are solely responsible for climate change, overpopulation, and third-world famine. One night while offering to wash the dishes after supper, I was even informed that I probably didn't know how to perform such chores because I came from a country where we had machines for everything.

3. Worrying About the People in Your Life Back Home: One of the greatest stressors I experience while travelling is that if something tragic were to happen to one of my family members at home, I am a world away. I have come to realize that I cannot stop living my life over things I have no control over. However, with this worry always in the back of my mind, leaving home in pursuit of travel often seems selfish, is always difficult, and causes me great grief.

4. Communal/Public Toilets: I hate using public restrooms. As a child, I refused to use the bathroom in school. As a result, unlike Frances, I have developed a camel's bladder. I am not prissy, but I have always been embarrased about bodily functions. A lack of toilet paper, squatter/non-flush toilets, and not having a proper place to wash your hands properly is gross. Having to pay to use public washrooms in some countries is even more appalling.

5. Feeling Like the Third/Fifth Wheel:  Travelling can make you feel like the unpopular kid in school all over again. There are cliques everywhere. I hate coming across herds of travellers who either know each other from home, or who have been travelling together for awhile. Instead of tagging along and feeling out-of-place, I prefer to seek out other solo travellers to hang out with. I also have never been afraid to enjoy my own company.

6. Being Ripped Off: On our first international adventure together in the Dominican Republic, Marcella and I were out shopping one evening when two women unknowningly sneaked up behind us and proceeded to braid our hair. After they had each braided one little strand of hair, they insisted we pay them an absurd amount of money. In fear of being thrown into a dodgy third world prison cell, we gave them a few dollars and agreed to have them do our hair on another day. After arriving in Russia early one morning, and having negotiated a price with a taxi driver, I was dropped off in front of my hostel. The taxi driver threw my luggage out of the car, lost his ability to speak English, and demanded a fee of $120 for a ten minute drive.

7. Taxi Drivers: Just ask one of us about the Tico taxi driver in San Jose, or see above.

8. Loneliness: A pang of sadness sometimes occurs to me while travelling solo in big citites, or visiting certain landmarks. It makes me realize that I have no one to share it with. One of the most lonely experiences of my backpacking life was when I booked into a tour group to go on a safari in the Serengeti, and noone else showed up. I remember being all excited, while stalking zebra and gazelles, a cheetah strolled into town and was on the prowl. I was stoked about the hunt, and said so to my safari guide, as he yawned and looked at his watch. A feeling of great loneliness came over me, and with it the realization that travelling solo is not always so fun.

9. Lack of Privacy: I need my space. The only time I think I have ever snapped at someone while travelling was when I had to put up with a clingy first-time traveller. When I announced that I was going for a walk, and she invited herself along, I lost my cool. I think I have become this way after a childhood of sharing a bedroom with three older sisters. It appears to be a family trait: Marcella has mentioned a similar freak out, which prompted her fellow traveller to refer to it as "Marcella Time."

10. Stressing About Money: I wish I was completely care-free about money, but the truth is, even while travelling, I have bills to be paid each month. I worry constantly about being unemployed and running out of money.

11. Multi-corporations/Fast-Food restaurants: I once heard about a girl whose one dream in life was to visit the pyramids in Egypt. "It was all going so well," she said, "Until I looked down from the top, and saw a great big KFC sign in the distance." The Egyptians didn't spend thousand of years building the pyramids to compete with a bucket of chicken, I reckon. 

12. Waiting: Waiting for other people to get ready........ Waiting for connecting flights....... Waiting in long line-ups....For every hour of something of interest, comes with it another couple of hours of boredom.

13. Being A Vegetarian: Travelling outside of Canada can be quite the challenge for non-meat eaters. Vegetarian options are not always easily available. I have always been a very picky, simple eater who has never enjoyed eating in certain social settings. I can't stand having to defend my diet choices. And don't even get me started on the "why don't you eat meat" question, either. 

14. Vendors: I hate pushy people, whether at home or abroad, but I think it is even more annoying in foreign countries. There are fewer words that make me cringe more than "Looky Looky," or "For you, good price." Just because you think I am money bags, does not mean I want to purchase your crap.

15. Cold Showers: I don't own a car. I don't smoke. I don't eat meat. I don't wear fur or leather. My major contribution to global warming? Long, scolding hot showers, and hour long bubble baths. It is the luxury I miss most when travelling.

16. Having to Constantly Be Social: In reality, I have more in common with Miss Anti-Social than Miss Social Butterfly. Travelling can feel like work at times, and can be quite exhausting. There are some nights where I wish I could crawl into bed at 9pm without looking like a loser.

17. Getting Sick: During our last day in Bali, before our flight to Darwin, Australia, Marcella and I decided to check into a 5 star hotel, where we justified that it would be safe to have ice cold drinks in the pool. A few hours later, there we lay critically ill, side by side, in twin beds. We had both come down with the most evil of traveller's ailments: Bali-Belly!

18. Roomates: Especially while in dorm-style hostel rooms. You never know who you will end up having to put up with. Most recently, while in Copenhagen, I ended up sharing a room with three older business men, and it really creeped me out.

19. Lack of Mind-Altering Conversation: Where are you from? Where are you going? Why are you travelling? What do you do at home? At first, other people taking interest in your life is flattering, but after awhile it becomes annoying to be asked the same questions over and over again.

20. Constant Partying: I really don't want to be the backpacking Nana. I have my fair share of nights out, but sometimes, just once, I would like to wake up to a room that does not reek of alcohol, or brush my teeth in a puke-free sink. And hearing the 18 year old backpacker go on about how much they drank night after night becomes kind of jaded.

21. Slowly Evolving into a Bushwoman: When travelling, not caring about appearances can feel quite liberating at times, but I am a girlie girl. If I had to choose only one activity to enjoy for the rest of my life, plucking my eyebrows would be it. I worry about losing my lugguage because my cosmetic bag is in it. Being well groomed has and will always be important to me.  I don't want to be that high-maintenance chick, but I hate feeling unclean, being able to smell myself, and not having access to a full length mirror.

22. Overpopulation: I hail from a country where you can travel on the Trans-Canada highway for hours and not see anything but deer and trees. I never understood the concept of overpopulation, until I went to Africa and rode public transportation through actual traffic jams (often caused by swarms of people and cattle). I have been suffering from PTSD ever since.

23. Returning Home to Consumerism After Seeing Absolute Poverty: Makes you realize the junk people will waste their money on. Today, I have a hard time going into a Lululemon store and seeing women bicker over a god-ugly article of clothing without wanting to spit at them. I have to walk out every single time.

24. Language Barriers: Not being able to communicate effectively, and having to resort to grunting and farting like a two-year old child in order to make yourself understood, is not very fun.

25. Peanut Butter is Not Always Accessible: There are times when my daily drug of choice can be extremely difficult to come by.

Is travel even worth it? See blog entry below.

Travel Makes the World Go Round... 25 Reasons why I LOVE to Travel!

1. The thrill of feeling like Barbie. Let`s face it. I live a pretty typical Canadian lifestyle- daily double double, a game of scrabble here and there, too much time spent in front of the computer, the nine to five job where I fall into the mix of other like- minded cubicle rats. At my current place of work, I would be surprised if even 10% of workers knew me my name. Let`s face it, I likely go about my day largely unnoticed. And while I highly enjoy my present incognito circumstance, let`s face it- sometimes it gives our ego a real boost to find ourselves walking down the locals street in a foreign land and have an army of children chase after us yelling things like "princess", "Barbie", or "Britney Spears." While it may not be legitimate fame, it feels nice to be temporarily and falsely placed on a pedestal for a short time...

2. I Lose touch with reality. Facebook is like crack. Since joining the site in 2007, I had an epiphany in the Winter of 2012 whereby I had decided that I had enough with the breastfeeding and household chore statuses that we`re bombarding my newsfeed login page. I mean, do I really need to know that you woke up, walked to the post office, came home and cleaned out your fridge, and then took a nap? Does such information enrich my life or impact me on some deep emotional level? Not likely. Despite this, my facebook free days were exactly 3. It`s hard to live in the modern world without having some connection to others through a form of social medium such as facebook. Travel keeps me away from facebook and shut off from the nonsense of other people`s lives that I can often become obsessed with.

3. Because all of a sudden- Money really does grow on trees. I don`t so much hear the saying being thrown around these days, but growing up, I would hear it frequently enough. I love travel because for the time being, one is able to appreciate that the saying is full of belogne. When you`re lying back on the beach enjoying a  $4/hr massage and appreciating a three course meal for under $2, money my friend, really would appear to grow on trees!

4. Travel keeps us grounded and humbles us. My first Fall back in Canada, I worked in a drop- in centre for teenage parents. I was appauled when mothers would come in to the food bank in order to access free diapers, turning their noses in the air and walking back out empty handed because they would rather go without than lower their standards to grocery store brand products. It took me a while to get my head around this sense of entitlement when just weeks before, I had found myself in an orphanage in the hillsides of India where a half dozen babies would occupy one tattered crib, the flies swarming to their tiny faces as they slept. Travel gives me peripheral vision, forces me to appreciate the little things again, and convinces me not to take anything in my life for granted.

5. I`m a sucker for a bed that isn`t my own. Checking into new accommodation makes me incredibly happy. Five star, budget, hut on the beach, shared hostel living, it doesn`t matter. I love being a guest and exploring new facilities.

6. I learn and improve geography. My jaw dropped the other day when an acquaintance asked if Egypt was located in Asia. My geography may not be stellar, and it may not even be as good as my 11- year old nieces`, but I pride myself on having a decent basic knowledge of geography as a result of extensive travel planning through the years.

7. It makes me feel like an adventurist. No one looks back fondly on a trip to the dry-cleaner. But after ziplining over the jungle canopy in Costa Rica, successfully navigating the alleys of Kathmandu, the speedboat ride in Vanuatu, or Jeeping out with the grazing animals in Tanzania, you get a feel for what being an active human being is like (again). The need for adventure is hardwired; travel lets you tap into it.

8. I learn more in a single trip than I did in 17+ years of school.  Seeing the world provides a source of education absolutely impossible to get in a classroom setting, teaching you things like economy, politics, history, geography and sociology. I often reason that I learned more about myself and the world around me in one year on the road than I did in a combined total of 19 years in a formal school setting.

9. I get to do something new.  It sucks to be stuck in a rut. Everyone knows what that’s like. Travel can be the perfect solution. And what’s not new about being somewhere like Sri Lanka?

10. I rack up epic stories to someday share with the grandkids. Don’t fancy yourself a storyteller? You’ll be the life of any party with the stories you come home with. Even if they seemed trivial when they happened, nostalgia will create an epic spin around getting your laundry done. I just love telling people about the time an Indian pimp in the Singapore Red Light District thought I was a Russian prostitute and tried his best to make me one of his girls... I then pulled a runner to a hotel on the other side of town in the middle of the night!... Did I also mention that I could barely walk, as I got a bad foot infection from a dodgy tattoo I had gotten done the week prior in the Philippines? Jealous, yet? haha

11. I get to piss off my taste buds. – Enough said about this. You will be constantly surprised at the flavors exploding in your mouth. Corn, jello, and beans swirled into sweet potato ice cream? You have got to be kidding me!!??!!

12. I get to cross paths with some of the most interesting characters (people).  People you meet while on the road usually become some of the most valued ones on facebook, stalking them on a regular basis to investigate the neat adventures abroad that they have been having lately. People met on the road also give you a momentary glimpse outside your hometown circle of friends, forcing you into a new and refreshing perspective on things.

13. My old clothes back home become new again. You know the feeling when you buy something new? That little bit of a rush that you get when you take out your new purchases and admire them with their price tags still on? (Okay- so maybe that is a women thing?) Well- that feeling only lasts a few minutes and then the item is thrown to the back of the shelf with the rest of your stuff. Time spent on the road living in the same meagre scrappings makes the clothing you have back home feel all new again once you`re back. More bang for your buck!

14. The kids are that much cuter. Have you ever been stuck on a plane beside a screaming baby? You know what I`m talking about. I don`t ever recall being truly annoyed by a rugrat in foreign territory. My theory is that it is because they are that much cuter than their Canadian counterparts... and therefore more tolerable. haha

15. I am intrigued by foreign toilets. I have a weird fascination with just how ridiculous the bathroom situations can be in different countries. Holes in the ground, toilets that are so technologically advanced they’re practically potty assistants (some wiping your bottom for you), buckets, foot stands. I travel to discover the plumbing practices of the various regions in each country.

16. With the right accent, even the ugliest of boys become instantly attractive. I’m not afraid to admit that I love boys. While abroad, I love to enjoy the different hair styles, smiles, skin colors, eye colors, muscles, complexions, and so on. There`s no denying my current fixation/borderline obsession with Asian boys. haha (please refer to # 14= Asian children are just that much more cuter! ha)

17. Supermarket Tours make me Happy. If you’ve ever walked into a supermarket in a foreign country you already know what I’m talking about. This is where you get a real glimpse of what that culture eats. It`s sensory overload and sometimes the smells can be rather overwhelming, and even downright scary. Despite this, I can literally spend hours reading foreign labels.

18. I get to rewind the clock. As I approach 30- I sometimes struggle with the reality that I am getting older. In fact, I haven`t reasonably celebrated a birthday in about six years (unless drowning one`s sorrows in a bucket of Baskin Robins counts?) The wonderful thing about travel is that you can be anyone you want to be... and be any age you want to be! (but you`re shit out of luck if someone then sneaks a peak at your passport... )

19. Every day feels like a Saturday: You know that Saturday feel when you first get out of bed, knowing that an entire weekend of freedom looms before you, welcomed? Well that Saturday feeling follows you day after day while on the road... Every day is a new adventure and every day justifiably feels like a Saturday.

20. I get cool stamps in my passport: Who needs tacky old souvenirs when you get some pretty kickass stamp keepsakes to remind you of all the dates you spent away!

21. When I finally get to wash my hair or take a hot shower, it feels AWES-AMAZING (Awesome & Amazing!).  Its a lot like one of those Herbal Essences shampoo commercials!

23. My body tends to shed those unwanted pounds: Maybe it`s the heat or the nature of the constant moving around.... or maybe it`s that I am consumed with a jam- packed schedule. Regardless, I always tend to be 5-10lbs lighter when on the road. Hey, I`m not complaining!:)

24. It usually means being closer to the ocean. When living in Canada, I usually find myself living pretty far from the water. Any Nova Scotian can relate that only a short period of time sans ocean and the salty sea air can go by before one starts to feel as though they are in a bubble. I become irritable and moody. When travelling, I usually find myself on top of the ocean, my all natural anti- anxiety medication!

25. I get to ride a girlie bicycle with basket: Growing up, my favorite movie was "Now and Then." I couldn`t get enough of watching the girls hop on their bicycles.... baskets and all. Travel allows me the opportunity to hop on a basketed bicycle in sundress all on my own... and for a brief moment in time, I may as well be "Teeny"... haha

Lost Girls

What’s a Lost Girl?

Lost Girls — By Lost Girls on January 18, 2006 at 2:01 pm

 

"A Lost Girl is: A woman in her 20s, 30s (and beyond) who’s more than a bit unsure about what she’s doing with her life, the direction that she’s headed and how to make changes for the better. Despite having a steady paycheck, a social life, regular dates, four walls and a roof over her head, she’s got the pressing feeling that she’s overlooking what’s really important, and what she ultimately needs to be happy.

Trust us, we’ve felt the same way.

It’s pretty hard to realize your dreams (or even find the time to write down your goals) when bills, deadlines, bosses, cell phones and relationships all demand your attention. That’s why we decided to make this wildly impulsive decision–to put just about everything on hold–while we traveled the planet in search of great inspiration and life changing experiences.

If you can relate to our desire to take off (even if it’s just to ditch work for a few weeks) you may very well be a Lost Girl, too. The best part is, having LG status puts you in the company of millions other woman, young and old, slim and curvy, shy and outspoken. We’re all just trying to figure ourselves out. And while not everyone will rack up such extreme mileage in their quest for answers, the journey to self-discovery is always worth taking.

Where ever the road may lead you, good luck, and safe travels."

Where Every Day Feels like a Saturday

While it may not be the social norm for grown-ups to lug around teddy bears, research tells us that adults regularly become attached to inanimate objects in a manner similar to a child's grip on a security blanket. But what about those of us who never felt a particular sentimental attachment to an object even as a child? Where does that leave us? I suppose it would only make sense then that those of us who never felt any deep emotional attachment to a childhood item would similarly find themselves wandering around adulthood similarly emotionally uninvolved with anything in their grown up reality.


In one random study on attachment that I came across through searching the web, researchers asked individuals to cut up photographs of a cherished item. While the participants cut, the researchers recorded their galvanic skin response, a measure of tiny changes in sweat production on the skin. The more sweat, the more agitated the person. The results showed that participants had a significant stress response to cutting up pictures of their beloved item compared with cutting up a picture of a valuable or neutral item. Participants even became distressed when researchers had them cut up a picture of their cherished item that was blurred past recognition. In another study carried out, results revealed that people who held onto a mug for 30 seconds before bidding for it in an auction offered an average of 83 cents more for it than people who held the mug for 10 seconds. Given what we know, why is it that I have never felt particularly attached to any given object which has come my way in the last 28 years?  Why is it that my entire life, I have been fixated on minimizing my belongings, purging anything without a logical use, and continuously afflicted with the unremitting need to be able to assemble my entire life into a shoe box?

There`s no denying my fear of commitment or attachment when it comes to tangible items. Bloody oath, would you believe that I burst into a bout of howling hysterics when the car salesman handed me the keys to my very first set of wheels, Murkle. All I could envision were a set of ball and chains across my ankles. I spent the better part of an hour sitting in his office begging him to take me up on my offer to have him buy the car back from me, tears streaming down my face all the while. I will never forget his final irritated sounding words to me, "If this is how you react to buying a car, how on earth are you ever going to cope with your first home purchase?" And so it would appear that I would be the perfect poster girl for any type of advertisement for the "anti-attachment" theory phenomenon. Being tied down to tangible items make my skin crawl and my heart begin to race in panic. In August 2011, I bought my first large piece of furniture, a basic metal Wal-mart futon with a price tag attached to it of $99. This was HUGE for me. Exactly 3 months later, I found myself logging into my kijiji account offering it up for sale. When I moved into a house with some girlfriends from university, I was appauled when I peered into one of their bedrooms and laid eyes on a floor to ceiling length bookshelf revealing every textbook which undoubtedly carried her through 17 years of schooling. I say this because it would be a real chuckle to get ahold of old university security cameras dating back to the opening hours of the yearend "Sell your book back to us sale."
With exams still days away, a determined university ripe Marcella would have been seen running through the halls with an armload of textbooks, anxiously awaiting the doors to open so that she could unload the year`s worth of study materials.

I`m not exactly proud to admit this, but my inability to attach or commit may similarly be applied to the environments whereby I find myself taking up residence. In going to renew my driver`s license a few months back, I found myself pulling out three different IDs, all still valid, and all with a different civic address. You would think that the longer that I would live in one place, that the more secure and happy I would feel in my surroundings. Yet, the opposite effect takes shape. The longer I find myself in one place, the more I fantasize about being somewhere else, with my days spent contemplating my next escape into the unknown. But what has caused this? What came first? Was it the chicken? Or was it the egg? Was it my three years of prior vagabonding that caused this inability to feel satisfied with where I am? Did travel spur adult ADHD in me?

“Does (long term) travel cause a fear of commitment OR is it an existing fear of commitment within certain people that then causes them to travel?”

When people sit around to discuss their adventure travels, they very rarely touch on the potential damage which any type of lengthy travel may inevitably cause. What if a lifestyle of living out of a bag, where everyday feels like a Saturday, the experience of ultimate freedom, and where a day without a cool new experience is seen as a "dull day" causes us to shirk commitment and the possibility of settling down into a proper 9-5 job? I mean in the real world that I have come to know in my Ontarian world these past three years, and as horrified as I was to witness it firsthand, people do the same thing, day in--- and day out.... for decades even. Living on the road, constantly meeting new and interesting people from all walks of life, our senses constantly being stimulated, new relationships and friendships ignited and extinguished before having a chance to flourish... When we finally settle, is something going to be missing?.... the high? the lack of ongoing stimuli? Can we face the stable (stagnant) social group and the same job for the next 10, 20, 30 years? Can we meet that one guy and find that they will be enough? If we can`t, then what? Is this what has happened to me this time again in my attempt to re-settle in Cornwall. Is it a prior life of travel adventure that has left me feeling as though my life here is unfulfilled?

Was it my personality that saw me emotionally unattached from my tangible environment in childhood which caused my ongoing struggle with commitment?... Or was it the fault of that nasty travel bug which nipped me in the rear a few years back?

This is what I want for my next birthday: I want it to be so that when I’m on the road, I am able to savour every moment, to live it and to love it. But when I settle, for however long, I want to feel satisfied, content and stimulated by that life as well. From a ME generationalist (me): I want to be able to have my cake, and eat it too!"

I Seek, Therefore I Travel: My Quest to Become A Lonely Planet Cover Girl

Writing in the backwoods of Cape Breton.

"Dear Sir or Madam, will you read my book?
It took me years to write, will you take a look?" -- The Beatles

If I could possess any super-human power, I would definitely choose that of time travel (sorry, world peace). Sometimes, I catch myself longing for it to be the 16th century, the era of early exploration. During these years, one left the shores of their native land, and set sail for whatever lay beyond the horizon. They didn't have any idea what land they would stumble upon, or if they would even make it across the sea at all. I am convinced on a daily basis that I was born into the wrong period of time. Instead, I find myself in the generation of the guidebook.

Travel guides, I believe, have defeated the whole purpose of travel. However, I have to admit, reluctantly, that I am a lazy traveller who probably couldn't survive travel without them. I don't plan my trips much in advance because I figure that my guidebook will help me find my way around. I have relied on guidebooks too much in the past. As a result, I have found myself in some sticky situations, in which I blame almost entirely on my written companion. The small scale maps are almost always inaccurate. The majority of the hostels/hotels that they highly recommend turn out to be dives (I guess the millions of other readers had the chance to arrive before I did). Some of the places that they vaguely write about have been the ones that I fell in love with, and I wished that I would have known more about them beforehand. That being said, if travel guides are to our generation what exploration was in the earlier centuries, I might as well get on board.

A Dozen Reasons why Lonely Planet Should Hire me:

1. I Am (a reluctant) Canadian: I heart maple syrup. I refer to my winter hat as a toque. I get excited whenever I see a pair of Canadian geese. If I had a couch, I would call it my chesterfield. I think I am incredibly fortunate to have access to a Canadian passport. I don't say "eh," I don't own anything with "Canada" splashed on it, and I don't sport a maple leaf on my backpack. I am definitely not a patriotic citizen, and I have not been brain-washed to believe that I hail from the best country in the world. In other words, I have never felt a strong attachment to my native country. My family's roots have been planted in Canadian soil for so long, I don't feel a connection to my ancestors' homelands either. I long to belong to a culture that does not involve materialism, westernization, and middle-class. Since I have always felt that I have no real cultural ties, I am open and un-biased towards learning about a world outside of my own, and am eager to adopt customs from others.

2. I Supposedly Have a Talent for Writing: I was a terrible student in university, so it came as quite a shock, one day, when I had a professor tell me that my writing skills were exceptional. I also had a psychic say that I had a real knack for languages.

3. My Writing Style is Down-To-Earth (?) and for Dummies: I don't feel a need to impress, and I have zero tolerance for pomp. I don't believe in using big words that most people will not understand. It would just make me look stupid. My way with words can be quite wordy at times (I like description), but (I think) is quite readable for the average person.

4. Jimmy Buffett is one of my Idols: I am envious of the good-time-guy, and I long for his unconventional lifestyle. The thought of having to work a 9 to 5 job makes me panic, and  I don't want to live for the weekends. Writing would be the perfect alternative for me.

5. I Am Capable of Going Long Spurts Without Proper Hygiene: Take it from a girl who used to have competitions with her dad to see who could go the longest without bathing in the summertime (ocean swimming does count as a proper washing). This, in my mind, is an important skill to have while on assignment.

6. I Grew up in Rural Cape Breton: I spent decades without knowing what Starbucks was, and being a good two hours away from movie theatres, restaurants, and shopping malls. To this day, I think I am still quite low-maintenance and treat these as luxuries. I am more in my element in remote areas.

7. My All-Time Favorite Class was Creative Writing: In grade 6, I had a year long class in which all we were required to do was illustrate and make-up stories. Besides art and social studies, it was the only subject where I made straight As, and my grades were consistent. I felt quite smart.

8. I Am Willing to try Anything at Least Once in the Name of Travel: Well, almost anything. I draw the line at going to a nude beach. And bungee jumping (I have a weird phobia of being upside down, but that is a story to be told on another day).

9. I Have a Passion for Africa: Culture, people, art, animals, landscape, colors---- throughout my life, I have been drawn to all things African. Personally, I believe Africa to be the most underrated and most misunderstood continent in the universe. It boggles my mind to go to the bookstore and see a hundred books about Paris, and only one for the whole of Africa. I would love to be given the dream assignment of researching, travelling, and writing about it.

10. I am Adventurous, Independent, Feisty, Have a Warped Sense of Humour, and Adore Solitude: Five necessary qualities needed to maintain one's wits and sanity while travelling, I reckon.

11. I Believe in Being a Traveller, not a Tourist: My theory is that you have no right to judge a place until you have spent at least a month to six weeks there. This is the amount of time it takes to get over the initial honeymoon phase, culture shock, and become accepted as a local.

12. Travelling is by far my Proudest accomplishment: My greatest achievement? Touching down on six continents by the age of 24, and travelling them extensively by the age of 26. I couldn't have done it without my guidebook.

Hook me up, LP!

A Change is Gonna Come (?)

Less than three months remain until our next great adventure, and I was starting to believe that there was something completely wrong with my psyche: I was having a hard time to feel some excitement about it.

I have always longed and lived for travel. It is a huge part of who I am. I love the adventures, the challenges, the lessons, the mistakes, the exploration, and the unknown aspects of travel. Most of all, I love living in the moment, something I find extremely difficult to do in my daily reality. I am either reminiscing about my previous journeys, or daydreaming about my next grand one. Travel has matured me in many ways, and has made me extremely open-minded. I love meeting new people upon my travels. Along the way I have befriended people from all walks of life, who have ideas and lifestyles completely different from my own. To be honest, in my everyday busy life, I probably wouldn't have given most of these fascinating people a second of my time. Money has never been, nor will it ever be, a priority in my life, and travel has made me realize this, even more so. If on my deathbed, I have 20$ in the bank, but have had a lifetime of travel experience, I will declare my time on earth a success.

Travel is obviously one of the great loves of my life, so I was quite surprised when I almost bailed out on this trip. I was having second thoughts about whether it was the right thing to do at this point in my life. I was experiencing cold feet, and felt like I could be doing something more worthwhile with my time. Over the past weekend, I had two signs that confirmed that the year ahead is the right decision for me.

While on the bus, I was sitting in front of two women in their early to late 70s. Both were dressed in bohemian clothes, and adorned with jewelry. They were strangers to each other, but got to talking, and I could not stop myself from eavesdropping. Both were avid solo world travellers, involved in third world causes, artists, and couldn't stand the idea of conformation or being permanently settled in one place. They admitted that they had, at tops, one year attention spans, and kept their worldly possessions in storage. The two of them both spoke of their mission to prove that one could travel at any age. I felt like a complete fool. At 27 years old, I often feel abnormal for not wanting security. After hearing the two older ladies talk about their passion for travel, the excitement of the upcoming year hit me. I wore a huge, stupid smirk on my face for the rest of the day.

Another sign of my hopeful year ahead came to me in a form of a butterfly. While on the same bus, a butterfly stopped by my window, and stayed for a good minute fluttering its wings, then left. While in the city a few hours later, the same color and species of butterfly appeared. I am not superstitious, and I wouldn't have thought anything of it, until the next day, after I returned home, the exact butterfly (same species, color, shape, and size) landed on my foot and stuck around for a bit. For fun, I decided to google the meaning of butterflies. This is what I found:

"Butterflies are a sign of good luck ahead. It means that if you are having doubts about something, you should explore it, take advantage of it, and be thankful for it, before it is too late. Something that you have longed or hoped for is about to come true. They represent creativity, freedom, joy, spirituality, romance, and change, as well as transformation from an old life to a new one."

I'm going on this trip for all its worth.