All tagged travel
It's been one year since Ieft for London. Here's a collective account of my summer interning abroad.
Time doesn't exist in Cascadia, a tiny memory of a town in Oregon's Wilamette Valley where ladies in pointed shoes and gentleman in tall hats used to flock to drink the spring water in the 1930's. The trees are so tall, the light that does filter through feels eternally like sunrise, with air that is damp, and smooth, and new. A handful of cabins line a winding street, with blackberries twining out the windows of abandon cars and smoke puffs rise from tin chiminies.
March 5, 2018 — Fred is Dead. And so is my head.
There has been an unfortunate turn of events for both Fred and myself.
A bit more unfortunate for Fred than the latter, however, so we’ll devote our attention in his direction first.
I've made it back to the USA after spending two months in London, where once again I was blessed with a native surrogate family to teach me the ropes. I shared a bunkbed with Fanny’s (my New York roomie) fifteen-year-old niece, Britney, at her home in East Ham.
Fairytales. How we love to dream about these idealistic worlds where glass slippers fit and straw can be spun into gold. According to anthropologist Joseph Campbell's monomyth, "The Hero's Journey," virtually every story is made up of fairytale ingredients — a call to adventure, a wizard mentor, a hero prince, a daunting dragon.
The hardboiled egg that hatched a college degree, a trip to Europe, and a mind stretched.
Kūldīga, Latvia — I can hear soldiers in the tree line. The deep rumbling of Russian syllables carve into the sandy hillside, as empty and cool as the stone fortresses that lay in ruins along the shore. Salt water covers the traces of gunpowder that haunt the ghostly cement walls, deeply saturating the clear cerulean sea.
Today marked the sixth day of my London adventure and I’ll assure you I was the one asking for directions; camera and tennis shoes and all. I am a tourist after all, no matter what my pride tells me, so I have the right to go all out if I want to, right?
I must be in England.
Why am I in England? I hadn’t thought much about it until I woke up this morning. As the airplane wheels hit British soil it finally hit me: Holy crap I’m in England.
The day after Christmas, mom rode back into New York and I traveled on to Oregon with Uncle Walt to surprise my grandparents (all of whom, had been laying the guilt trip on me for weeks). While I was mostly excited to see my family, I couldn’t help but acknowledge the pang of joy in my heart as I spotted a dozen black dots from my window seat in the small airplane above Redmond, Ore.
What really made me feel at home was the first order of business upon landing in Redmond. The urgent notification on my uncle’s phone when we landed was a text from my second brother, Andrew. “Can you pick up some 22 shells on the way home?”
Last week we had our second batch of familiar faces here in New York -- Leah and her daughter Hailie from Bend, Oregon. Here's to my first trip across the Brooklyn Bridge!
If you want to see God laugh tell him your plans. 😅
I've been in the city a 11 days now, and I've managed to fall in love. Here are the places I've had a chance to check out!
I decided it's only fair that you get to here mom's side of the story too!
We made it to Manhattan.... Magellan is loving the new digs!
Check out or last full day on the road!
A little vacation from our vacation.....