My apologies for leaving you in the lurch. It’s taken me a bit of time to get settled back into my real life.
I’ve been battling the insurance company that I bought my trip insurance from because they’re refusing to cover the repairs on my face even though I was injured on my trip. Turns out that the moment I set foot on American soil, my insurance was gone. I still need to have my nose set, my teeth fixed, and I’m uncertain about the break under my left eye. But, according to them, I’m on my own.
I thought I was being responsible. I thought I was making a good choice. I thought I was protecting myself in the event that something happened. I never expected to have to use it. I bought the policy after much deliberation, research, and conversations with fellow travelers. Be prepared and all that.
What they failed to mention is that if you’re injured on your trip, you have to get it taken care of right then and there. No waiting until you get home even if that’s what the doctor says because of the recovery time. You have to give up a part of your trip to get it taken care of when it happens. AND you pay out of pocket up front which they will reimburse you for afterwards. I haven’t tested that theory yet, but I’m going to guess by the way I’ve already been treated that it’s going to be a million hoops to jump through to get that back in my pocket.
I felt and feel betrayed, disgusted, and ripped off. I thought I’d be taken care of. I thought I was protected. I was but am not now.
Would I tell someone else to buy trip insurance? No I would not. It’s a pretty good scam. You’d be better off putting that money into savings in the event, Dude forgive, you need it. I would not do that again because the peace of mind I had is now a chunk out of my pocketbook. It’s not worth it.
In case you’re wondering, I bought the policy through AAA. Allianz Assistance USA is where the policy came from. They’ll gladly take your money but if you need follow up care, you’re on your own. I wouldn’t trust Allianz ever again. AAA even pled my case to them because my agent was astounded at their refusal. She didn’t get anywhere either.
May peace be with you wherever you are or go. You are loved (but not by Allianz).
My last day in Portugal, in Europe, in Lisbon. What to do? Well, since I don’t do well with tourist transportation, I decided on a walk about. There were a couple sites nearby where I’m staying that I wanted to check out. With my FINALLY dry favorite Blowfish shoes on my feet, shorts and a t-shirt (It was really that warm out), I headed out. I’m going to mention that I took all the medication I was prescribed for the pain so I was okay to observe the world around me.
I walked the riverside until I reached the pedestrian crossover. I shared a picture yesterday of what I had to cross. It was not busy. I climbed up the ramp and crossed over. The walkover exits nearby the coach museum I shared with you. I walked to the left.
I poked my head into a few shops, bought a bucket hat since I can’t wear my transition lenses for very long, grabbed some coins, and took my time.
That bridge is incredibly high up and looks similar to the Golden Gate Bridge, but this particular version has a bonus feature of a train that runs on the lower level.
I walked through the Jardim Afonso de Albuquerque. At the four corners of the large park, there are four unique statues of women. In the center of the park is a tall spire with a statue on the top. I giggled because a seagull took a rest on the head of the statue,
I strolled the tourist strip ducking out into a park at the end of the first strip.
I visited the Pavilhao Sala Thai which is located inside the Jardim Vasco da Gama. It was pretty, but I was rather underimpressed. I thought it would be bigger.
A prayer for peace and I wandered towards the fountain in the middle of the Praca do Imperio Garden. I’d seen it at night from the Padrao dos Descobrimentos (Explorer’s monument). It lights up in different colors as the water spouts shoot into the night.
I sat watching the people and the fountain for quite a while. I was listening to Fado music in my earbuds. If you’ve not heard of Fado music, try Amalia. Her voice is top hat.
I made my way over to the Centro Cultural Belem. Art fascinates me. I didn’t take any pictures because I wanted to not be a tourist. I wanted to be in the moment, taking it all in. I was not disappointed.
I strolled over to the Museu de Marinha but didn’t go in. The outside park had ship anchors displayed. They were massive. Taller and thicker than I am. At the back of the museum courtyard was a Planetario de Marinha but there weren’t any shows available to see. I went dancing down the Praca do Imperio road.
I passed by the Mosteiro dos Jeronimos. The exterior was much different than the churches I saw in France. There was ornamentation, but not overly so. The building is a World Heritage listed Gothic monastary.
One of the Presidential Guard. I’m sorry I didn’t get a closer picture but he and his fellow guard stood at attention while I watched them from afar.
I returned to the boat. I’m heading up to take a shower and change into my travel clothes. I’ll pack up my things and have them ready to exit the boat tomorrow morning. I’m already fussing with myself about what to leave behind so I can bring my goodies back home. Small living is difficult to do.
Other than nausea and a bit of a headache, I’m doing okay. I took a short nap when I got back, so I’m relatively rested. Tomorrow I get to sleep in my own bed. I get to see my pup and my kitty. I get to see my son. I get to see familiar sights. I get to see friends (picking me up from the airport). Life is good.
OH! I wrote a letter to the man who races his boat. I thanked him for the invitation to sail. I expressed my regret of not being able to fulfill that invitation. I used Google Translate to write it. I hope I didn’t say anything completely wrong.
May peace find you wherever you are or go. You are loved.
Last night I became increasingly dizzy and upchucked several times. By this morning, I could barely stand upright without feeling like I was drunk (without the fun, BOO!). My friends encouraged me to seek care, but I was reluctant.
I justified my dizziness because I’m on a boat, there was a yellow coastal event happening which was rocking the boat pretty hard. However, the dizziness and nausea continued when I spent time on stationary land. nao e’ bom.
My resistance led me to call the hospital where I was treated after the wreck. I wrote up a script to say to them:
I don’t speak Portuguese I know I am calling a hospital I was in an accident on Wednesday and broke my nose and face. May I please have someone who speaks English
Eu nao falo portugues eu sei que estou ligando para um hospital onde fui tratado quanddo quebrei meu nariz na ultima quarta feira algeem que fal ingles por favor
My attempt massacred the language.
The woman who answered the phone the first time said Eu nao sei (I don’t know) and hung up. I revised my script. Despite my atrocious pronunciation, she understood. She transfered me to another number. I repeated the script that worked. She said no and hung up. I called back. The first lady answered, recognized my script, asked me to hold, then transferred me to the same woman who hung up on me again. Dang it.
Finally I gave up on that. I called 112 which is the emergency number here. I started off by asking “Do you speak English?” A little she replied. That was about the extent of what we could understand. She asked me to find someone who could translate. They must have thought I was nuts. “Voce fala Englais’?” (Do you speak English?) I kept asking everyone sheltering from the rain under the gas station portico.
A woman asked me what I needed. She kindly translated what was happening to me, where I was, and other information. Obrigado (Thank you). Wait here she said. They are coming.
I waited. They showed up. My friends were messengering me their concern. I can’t really wear my glasses right now so it’s hard to read. I reassured them as best as I could, loaded up and headed back to the hospital.
I spent so much time in this hallway, I thought they forgot about me.Anti nausea and pain medication which helped ease the symptoms.
As I reported the other day, I broke my nose and my “mustache” line above my front teeth. As it turns out, that wasn’t accurate. I broke four bones in my face. No messing around here, kids. I go all out. No guts, no glory!
After consulting with colleagues and the IV being complete with my symptoms under control, the doctor suspected that my pain being out of control had contributed to my issues. An adjustment of medications, a list of warning signs, and 300 Euros later, I was on my way to the Farmacie to pick up 32 Euros of medication.
I got back to the boat, made a few phone calls to reassure my friends and loved ones of my well being (as much as I can be right now), and now I’m writing for you fine folks.
Tomorrow I’ll be trying to stuff six weeks of momentos into my two suitcases. I’ve already tried to figure out what I’d be willing to leave behind if it comes down to it. My six weeks in Europe is coming to a close. I fly out Tuesday morning for Philly, then home to Knoxville.
There are two more things I want to see before I go home. I’m hoping the weather will cooperate with me. They’re both within walking distance, basically across the street.
But this is the street I have to cross.
I’m going to sleep now. May peace be with you wherever you are or go. You are loved.
I woke up this morning, not because I was done sleeping, but my bladder was urgently letting me know it was time. I folded myself out of bed with a huff and a sigh. I opened the hatch to a warm morning. It wasn’t hot, but I didn’t need a jacket to make my way.
I was bleary eyed with lack of sleep. I stumbled my way back to the boat. I climbed aboard and looked up as I entered the hatch. HOLY CRAP! What in the world had I been missing?!
A few days ago, my housesitter asked me what the sunrise looks like here. I had no idea. This morning I found out.
The air smelled so fresh, the breeze was balmy, the boat was barely moving. It was a perfect setup for my morning communion with the Nectar of the Gods.
There is an old adage that says, “Red skies at night, sailor’s delight. Red skies at morning, sailor’s take warning. Dudes, it’s true. A couple hours after this the skies went dark. The wind picked up to a pretty steady 27mph with gusts up to 39mph. The temperature stayed in the lower 60’s. It stayed that way for hours. I had to plan my trip to the bathroom in clothing that I could dry quickly on hangers. Even with that, it was drenching.
What I couldn’t get done today, I’ll have to squish into tomorrow. Tile pickup, laundry, packing, and, if the weather holds, a sunset sightseeing tour up the river. It starts in the marina to the west of me by one. Scooter rider I shall be.
I did get my train ticket to go visit friends in southern Portugal on Thursday. I even figured out how to get to the train station. Honestly, I haven’t felt brave enough to venture onto the public transportation system here although it’s quite extensive and there are a variety of ways to go. I don’t know what my problem is here when I had no issue whatsoever in France. Maybe I’m just tired and need to go home to process and decompress.
Note: If you’re an excessively gassy person or if you eat something that causes that, do NOT sleep in a tiny cabin. You will dutch oven yourself. Don’t ask me how I know this.
May peace be with you wherever you are or go. You are loved!
I went to bed last night at 9:30 PM Lisboa time (4:30 PM East Tennessee time) because I couldn’t keep my eyes open. I snuggled under the warm blanket and closed my eyes. I didn’t wake up until 9:30 AM because I had to use the facilities. It’s kind of like camping in the sense that I have to go to the building to use those facilities. I went to put my shoes on and realized that my body heat had caused considerable condensation inside the boat. Enough to soak my shoes. Nuts.
I stripped off my socks and made it safely out to get my other pair of shoes. I put my drenched pair out on the seats of the back of the boat to dry. I got dressed, put on my coat, and…it started to rain. Not just a little bit either. I quickly exited, locked up, and went to the building. I was soaked by the time I got there and it’s really not that far. Abuh. But, such is the life of a sailor, eh? (winky face).
I stepped back out after washing my hands to clear skies and sun. Uh, well, okay. I went back to the boat to change my clothes and dry my coat. I was still pretty tired so I laid down and slept for five more hours. Good Pete!
When I woke up for the day, I had to use the facilities again. No issues, by the way.
I pondered what to do. I like to keep busy doing something and, quite honestly, if I’m not busy, I feel like I should be doing SOMETHING. But, as my sensible friend Jen told me, sometimes taking care of yourself means doing nothing. So I didn’t for the entire afternoon.
Resistance
Rock, creak,
tug, squeak,
jolt, sway,
river, bay,
tilt, groan,
wind, blown
rythym right,
sweet goodnight.
At 4:30, I made another trip to the facilities because my Bolt car would arrive at 4:50 PM to take me to another art class. I made it to the pickup point ten minutes early and waited. I checked my app and it said I went to the address the evening before and charged me money for a ride I didn’t take. Abuh.
I found the support ticket submission after several failed attempts, plead my case, and awaited response. In the meantime, I had to get where I was scheduled to be. I called another Bolt. Within minutes a fine young man named Ivan picked me up.
We chatted about touristy stuff, as we passed a large group of police exiting their station, I became curious. I asked him what the letters mean. There are three different police units in the area. One is like a city police force. One is like a National Guard only with police privileges, and the other is like the US’s FBI. I thought about it and in the quiet I requested:
“May I ask you a question that may seem inappropriate, therefore you’re not required to answer. I won’t think you rude if you don’t.”
“Sure.” he replied darting in and out of traffic.
“In the United States, the relationship of the African American people with the police is horribly abusive. Being black could be a death sentence simply because you exist. Do you find that the same in this country?”
He thought about it. As he changed lanes he said, “Yes there is racial issues here too. All across Europe. Our police kill black people here, but not like what I hear about in the States.”
“I feel ashamed of how we treat other humans.” I told him. “I’m a Unitarian Universalist. One of our principles is Social Justice. It seems ridiculous to me to not love people.”
“It’s good to know there are people like you out here that are working to make a change.” He said as he pulled up to a stop light.
“I wonder if it’s shame that causes such hate. I mean, if I do something wrong and I’m ashamed of it, I’m not likely to be nice about it if someone starts poking the bear.”
“It’s complicated.” He sighed.
“I just want to love humans for who they are.” I stared out the window at the neighborhood. There was graffiti on many of the walls, but the streets were relatively clean. People were walking everywhere, going in and out of shops, stepping in front of the many cars packing in bumper to bumper.
“Thank you, Ivan. I appreciate your willingness to answer a difficult question.” I spoke with sincerity.
“You’re welcome. We’ll change the world.” He laughed which made me laugh.
When we arrived at my destination, I wished I could have given him a hug. Instead I gave him a tiny yellow duck. He laughed again and thanked me. I tipped him through the app.
My Destination
I arrived at Agathe’s studio with anticipation. I walked up the three stories to her apartment. It smelled like spice with a hint of floral. Stepping into her work area was like being at home. There were various projects at different stages of completion, bins overflowing with supplies, jars of brushes, multiple paints, and a fantastic view (which I didn’t get a picture of, sorry) that could be seen from her plant filled balcony.
The table was set up with 8 stations. It turned out there was a group coming who were celebrating a birthday by joining the class. They were nearly a half hour late in arriving and I was already well into designing my unique tile.
Already finished the outlining, starting on the watercolor part.
When they did arrive, they came in cloudy with laughter. They were on a girl’s trip, they explained, so they were having difficulty finalizing plans. They sat down quickly. Agathe ran through the same procedure with them, but it wasn’t as relaxed because they were pushing time. We were the fourth and final workshop of the day. She was tired, but not impatient.
They caught up to me pretty quickly. I finished with my design just before the first of their group did.
My finished design before Agathe worked her magic on it.
They brought wine with them. They offered some to me which I declined. I’m not a teetotaler by any stretch of the imagination, but it’s not something that interests me either. Agathe broke out the wine glasses and the group toasted the birthday woman.
One by one they finished their works. There were a lot of oopsie’s and one woman kept saying oopsie-doodle whenever she made an error. It made me giggle.
Agathe took the finished pieces and worked her magic. When mine was done I honestly couldn’t believe what I’d created. I love it!
Yes, that’s on an actual tile with a cork backing. (Agathe comes from France originally. When she says cork with her accent it comes out sounding like cock).
I purchased a couple of gifts for my people back home, decided I was hungry so I asked Agathe where she goes out to eat. She said she doesn’t typically but when she does she goes to a few places nearby. I chose one she mentioned.
The place was pretty busy but the serving staff were prompt, polite, and efficient. If you’re vegan or vegetarian, don’t read the next sentence. Lamb Korma with jasmine rice, hot chamomile tea, sparkling water, and the last picture is of a homemade mango ice cream they make there every day. My tastebuds are drooling with happiness.
As I stepped outside after paying my bill, I hailed another Bolt car to return me to the boat. The street was busy with people and cars. It had the feeling of community. Like, the people who lived there really were included in the daily life of where they lived. It was a good feeling.
Looking up the street from the restaurant.
On the way back to the boat, I saw this pizza place which made me laugh out loud.
When I got back to the marina, I had to…use the facility. Well that serves two purposes because I won’t have to go back out again for quite a while and second if you’ve eaten Indian food when it’s not common fare, then you understand.
The European places I’ve visited are pretty big on water and electric conservation. Many places have motion sensor lights in them to save on energy. I’m totally down with that. However.
As I sat in the bathroom, taking care of my business meeting, it occurred to me as the light repeatedly shut off in my room that they didn’t take into account long periods of not moving. I had to keep sitting on the throne waving like a queen.
And that’s how my day went. May peace be with you wherever you are or go. You are loved!
This is some of the wildlife I saw when I visited the Tropical Botanical Garden in Lisboa.
Obligatory Nectar of the Gods with cinnamon.You have never tasted sin this delicious in all your days. It has a croissant like crust with a custard filling. It was outstanding.
Becows
The Charity of RomeHerculesDogs
I will end this post with a disgustingly funny story.
After breakfast and walking around for a couple of hours, I had to “Take a Meeting” in the worst way. The map showed the facilities all the way at the back of the park. Uh, no can do muchacho, so I exited the Tropical Botanical Gardens doing the “Not yet” dance.
I made it down a cobblestone street, turned the corner and was met with so many people. Good hell, that was a lot of people. The cool part is, I heard so many different languages being spoken that it almost made me weep with gratitude. So many people.
I found a Starbucks! Hooray! The sign said bathrooms were upstairs. I can do this. I got up there and there was a keypad that you have to enter the code to get in. CRAP! Well, not yet anyway. Someone was coming out, so I went in. Both rooms were filled (Their bathrooms are actual little rooms, not stalls). I was really doing the dance when a woman came out of the men’s bathroom. She said nothing to me, didn’t wash her hands either come to think of it.
I got in the room, locked the door, dropped trou, and took my meeting which took a bit. I looked over and the toilet paper roll is empty. WHA?!?! Uh oh. I searched frantically for something, but there was nothing to be found. WAIT! I have tissues in my purse! Hooray!
Damn it! I took them out to make room for something else. I took out my google translator, turned it on to Portugese, typed in “Help! There isn’t any toilet paper in here!” (Ajuda! Não há papel higiênico). I played it every time I heard a voice outside the door, but nobody came.
Well, I considered my socks, but I’m not a fan of how my feet feel in my shoes without them. I thought of the nylon shopping bag but that grossed me out worse (It’s a GOOD BAG!) I even considered using a paper Euro. Oh yes, I did think about it, but no. When I visited the breakfast place and the botanical garden, they gave me receipts for my purchases. Ahoy! Solution.
I removed the staples from the three receipts I had. Four pieces of paper. Well, better than nothing. After much work, I was able to finish the paperwork. Dudes, keep the damn tissues with you. I went out, washed my hands, warned the next person, got some napkins, returned to the bathroom, made sure I did a good job.
When I told the women at the counter the situation, the one woman asked me how I got out of it. I told her. She laughed. They gave me an employee discount for my purchase, and you better damn well believe, I took that receipt! (P.S. The tissues are back in my bag.)
May peace be with you wherever you are or go. You are loved!
I had a couple of small errands to run. Nothing major, but they hardly took up any time. I had to kill some time because they were showing the efficiency apartment today. Instead of going to the right when I exit the building, I went to the left. Like the bear who went over the mountain, to see what I could see.
Nico’s Pizza caught my eye. I hadn’t eaten breakfast yet and I was feeling a might bit peckish. Luckily the server spoke English and was able to help me read the menu. I got a pizza I’d never seen before and an Orangina drink. Those are really popular here and served nearly everywhere I’ve been.
This tastes almost like a sparkling orange juice.This pizza was fantastic! I don’t know what the green stuff is, but it was delicious. There is ham under the greens. That big white ball in the middle is a type of cheese similar to mozzarella but creamier. The green dots on the top of that seems to be an herb of some type, It was absolutely stellar. I ended up taking more than half of it home.
I decided I wanted to rent a bike and toodle around town. I did a Twisto search and discovered where the nearest Velo park was located. As it turns out, it’s right next to the Monoprix I told you about. Trusty translator in hand, I read the screen, follow the prompts and I’m rejected. Uh…I redid the process using another option but it timed me out. I popped around the corner to the Twisto office and spoke with a nice woman behind an official looking desk.
There are two options for renting a bike. One is that you pay 24 Euros for a year subscription which included one hour free. Then it’s 1 Euro per hour of use (an electric assisted bike). Or, you can use your phone and rent a bike for 1 Euro an hour which rings up at the end of each hour. She encouraged me to use my phone. So I went back to the kiosk to try again. Rejected.
Back I went to the office, a random dude acted as a translator for me and explained what happened. You have to have a phone number in France, Belgium, or Germany (I think?). If you don’t have any of those, you can’t rent a bike. Abuh. What a poop. BUT!
Ever the resourceful, I opted to explore on the bus. Since I was at the main terminal, the options were wide open. I was talking to my friend Jen. I told her to pick a number. She chose the number 9. Okay, I say, that’s the bus I’ll take to see where it goes.
I made a quick trip across the courtyard but made a stop so you could see this:
Your guess is as good as mine. It looks like a fancy men’s dress shoe. I wonder what story is behind its placement.
While I was waiting for the bus there were several pigeons pecking or strutting around on the sidewalk. This particular bird had no feet. Little nubs is all this poor, pretty, little thing was keeping mobile.
I named her Peggy.
I got on at the Theatre Quai 3 heading towards Colombelles Mairie. I had no idea what was at the end of the line, but that’s nothing new!
It took roughly a half hour to travel to Colombelles. There was rather heavy traffic at times. The neighborhoods appeared to be comfortable middle class with yards. One thing I really dig about this city is that they use hedges for privacy instead of privacy fences. It really does look more tidy. Very few of the bushy guardians are in disarray. The sidewalks are in excellent condition with some even having a paved biking path!
I’ve made the observation before, but the French take their hair very seriously. Everywhere I’ve gone there have been multiple choices to get your hair did. I am a wash and go type of human, so this obsession with ones crown is rather puzzling to me.
Arriving at the end of the line was a small shopping center sort of like Grove Center in Oak Ridge, TN. It was a bit worn but not in disrepair. Nothing I saw really interested me so I kept walking. I stopped in a mini-mart and got a Perrier because I’m fancy like that. I didn’t open it right away because I’m not very graceful when I’m in unfamiliar territory. I tend to be looking around a lot instead of looking where I’m going.
The road I took had neat houses on one side and a line of mostly closed shops on the other, the side I was walking on. Except the beauty shoppes and the barbers, nothing else seemed to be open. It gave me the feeling of a line from a John Denver song that sings “They roll back the sidewalks, precisely at ten” only this was five in the late afternoon.
I saw a lot of parental figures with young ones scattering around their hips in excited jumping and energetic exclamations. It made me smile as group after group passed me by with a greeting of Bon Soir.
At the end of the sidewalk, there was a roundabout. The view I could see was really something. It was around 60 degrees with a light wind. There was a pergola with a bench tucked off to the side. I sat down on it and opened my beverage.
As I was watching the world go by, enjoying refreshment, I felt an overwhelming sense of gratitude. I’ve lived by myself long enough that I really enjoy being with myself. I was heavily engrossed in the moment. Each tingle on my tongue as I drank was a sparkle of now. The breeze carried the Autumn on its coat tails. It was the moment of pure happiness.
It’s hard for me to wrap my mind around the fact that I’m actually here. Obviously by the posts I’ve been making, I am. But I never imagined in my lifetime an experience like this one. True, I have my client to take care of, but that’s coming to an end until they return to the States.
Lisbon is going to be all solo. No safety net just jump in and see what happens. I want so badly to tell you what I’ve got planned to do while I’m there, but I’ll let you come along for the ride with me instead.
OH! And although there is wifi on the bus, I don’t know that I’ll be able to do post updates on Thursday evening. I’m hoping, but this trip has been known to change direction for no good reason other than it can.
May peace be with you wherever you are and wherever you go. You are loved!
Since February I’ve had a plan in place for September and October. I was going to fly into Paris and stay a couple of days. (check) Then take public transportation to Caen, Normandie, France. (check) I planned on staying in one place for September them move to another for the month of October. (check) Then I was going to stay in my client’s home while they went to Morocco. (Uh…) Well that was a bust, so I made reservations for another place in Caen. But…
If I’m not going to be working, why should I stay in one place? I started looking around. I checked out Brussels, Belgium. I looked at Geneva, Switzerland. I checked out The Hague in the Netherlands. But, they are rather cost prohibitive last minute. Then I thought about Barcelona, Spain. Again cost prohibitive.
I have a friend that housesits on the west coast of the U.S. and in Portugal. She’s told me so many good stories about her journeys that I started looking towards Lisbon.
Okay, so a bus goes from Caen to Lisbon via a route through Paris. As it turns out, it’s the same bus I would have used to get to Paris for my flight home.
Well, can my flight be changed from Paris to Lisbon? Why yes, yes it can. Okay, but can I find an affordable place to stay in Lisbon?
Yes indeed. Did you know that you can search for OMG places on airbnb.com? As it turns out there is a hobbit house you can rent, but I couldn’t figure out how to get to the affordable place because it was not very close to Lisbon.
What I did find was a boat. Like a real live boat. It is located near Lisbon, close to public transportation, and it’s affordable.
I rearranged everything, canceled, reworked, submitted, and dudes, I’m going to Lisbon, Portugal! I figure I’m never going to have this opportunity again and if I didn’t do it, I’d kick my own ass for being anxiety-ridden enough to maintain.
Courage is feeling the fear and doing it anyway. No guts, no glory. It’s my intellectual way of saying, “Hey ya’ll, watch this.” We’ll find out what happens.
Downside, the bus trip is like 32 hours. Bonus, I’ll be traveling through a lot of France, across Spain, and into Portugal. Did I forget to mention that some friends from ORUUC, my church back in Tennessee, moved to Portugal last December? OH! AND! They happen to live in the same neighborhood as the hobbit house. Maybe I’ll get lucky and get to see it, but I KNOW I’ll be lucky enough to see them,
We’re already in talks for me to train down to them and spend a couple days. Dudes, the world is a beautiful place.
May peace be with you wherever you are. You are loved!
Life is a patchwork of moments — laughter, solitude, everyday joys, and quiet aches. Through scribbled stories, I explore travels both far and inward, from sunrise over unfamiliar streets to the comfort of home. This is life as I see it, captured in ink and memory. Stick around; let's wander together.
Mare Martell 