Reduce and live simply.: June 2011

By the time I arrived at the Chicago airport on Tuesday, I was a frizzy, frazzled bear. In three weeks, I had planned a two month backpacking / WWOOFING trip to the UK, moved out of my apartment, sold my stuff, and road tripped to Michigan. I was excited to go, but had already made so many mistakes along the way I was in reflex mode, waiting to find what else could go wrong. Then I sat between Sheila and Mohammed on my flight. As I listened to them cheerfully banter in their British sing-song voices, I began to get excited again. Between Sheila's travel stories filled with mimosa's, gasps, and pink lipstick and Mohammed's huge grin and kindness (he gave me one of his earbuds to watch a movie on his laptop because Willie Wonka was playing on the monitors, and I'm not kidding about that), my mood felt a hundred times lighter.

When we arrived in Manchester, some airport security felt pity on me, most likely because I always look like a little girl who is running away when I'm traveling, and they led me around the airport, while I converted my money, bought cheap food and checked in at the bus station. Even though I was fully aware that following fluorescent-vested men around at the airport made me the biggest tool in all of the United Kingdom, I was again, grateful for the kindness.

Finally I arrived at Caernarfon, Wales. Maybe it was that I sat on a bus or a plane for 22 straight hours, or that my bag was a third of my weight, or even the hobo shower I had to take in the airport bathroom, but when I saw the ocean for the first time, I cried a little (I'm emotional!). That night I walked along the sea shore until my body felt right and my skin felt sticky from the salt water. It had all been worth it, for this view.

The next morning I hiked up a mountain nearby with some guys staying at my hostel and just drank in the scenery. They were hilarious and had great stories about their drifting. Enough talking. Look at this beautiful country.