I'm Not Done Yet

If you've only recently tuned in, you might be under the impression that I am nearing the end of my journey. Which, in a sense I am. The tone of the last few posts may have led you to believe that I was summarizing with the short term goal to conclude. That's not the case. Not yet anyway. I may have hit all forty-eight of those fascinatingly different and incredible states but I have only just begun my adventure on the west coast of Canada.

If there is one thing I have come to know throughout this entire trip it's that people surprise you. Whether it is a group of strangers that I have just met through couchsurfing or a classmate from high school that I may never have been incredibly close with back then - people surprise you. They surprise you with their kindness and willingness to take you in, be part of your story, and in turn let you be part of theirs.

I had some time to think over the last few days. To think about some of the people I've met recently. Or the ones I am seeing for the first time in a long time. And I think what they must tell their friends and family about me. Yeah, this girl I used to go to high school with is travelling around North America by herself and she's staying with strangers. Then the people they tell tell someone else. And before you know it, I'm a story. That crazy girl from Winnipeg that has driven over forty-three thousand kilometres (that's right I can say kilometres now because I am back in Canada) on her own. And I repeat, stays with strangers. 

While I might occupy some brief story that someone shares over a cup of coffee. Or a memory they look back and reminisce upon every April when they talk about that girl from Winnipeg that joined them for family dinner on Easter. The same has to be said for how these very same people, and their kindness, and openness have become a part of my story. 

It's not just specific to holidays. But I have to say, it takes a special kind of person and an exceptional kind of family to open their door and let "some random" join them for Easter dinner. Or for a delicious home-cooked Greek dinner. It takes incredible people to not only let you but encourage you to attend their birthday party and housewarming party. It takes special people to make you feel right at home, like you're part of the family or that you have been friends your entire lives. And the fact that you're sitting at the dinner table listening to Nono share camping stories from back in the day, or a family jokingly bicker with each other about the unwritten rules of appropriate wedding attire, or maybe it's trying some authentic Mexican candy after a pinata explodes all over the floor. 

Whatever the scenario may be. Whether for a night or several. It takes special people to let you become part of their story while giving you the privilege of adding them to yours. From Portland to Coquitlam to Vancouver - thank you for the memories. And for becoming part of my story. 

New friends in Portland, OR

Incredible Easter Dinner in Coquitlam, BC

It's the little things.

A Birthday In The Life Of A Traveler

Yesterday was my birthday. The big two-six. Haha, okay, I don't think anyone really makes a big deal out of a twenty-sixth birthday. There really isn't anything special about it. Twenty-five, that's a big one. And so is thirty. But twenty-six. Not so much. The only difference is now that when someone asks me how old I am during introductions I feel like the socially acceptable thing to do is then introduce my husband and two-year-old daughter. Neither of which I have. Screw you social conventions. Anyways, I'm getting off track here. For the first time in my life I didn't have to worry about who would, or wouldn't be showing up at my birthday. Because I already knew no one would. And, for the first time in my life I was spending my birthday somewhere other than Winnipeg, Manitoba, Canada. 

As I mentioned in the last post I am currently in Seattle, WA. I saved the big "touristy" things to do for my big day. Sure, it may have been raining but I don't think I would have truly gotten the Seattle experience if it wasn't. I woke up early, had a quick coffee and some oatmeal and headed for the world famous Pike Place Market. Every day they put on a free walking tour at 9:30 a.m. but I had just missed it as I arrived just after 9:45, once I finally found a place to park. But, as luck would have it, the very entrance I walk through to get into the market, the walking tour was there. I got to meet up with them and walk around. We taste-tested everything from fresh fruit and apple chips to pickle juice and pepper-jellies. It was a blast.  I got to see the world-famous fish throwers and the not quite as famous but still pretty cool gum wall. When the tour ended I already had two stops on my must-do list: The original Starbucks and a little Russian shop called Piroshky Piroshky.

I made a friend on the walking tour and as it turns out he wanted to go to both those places as well. And we did. We walked into that original Starbucks and were snapping pictures left, right, and centre. Then I placed my order and redeemed my free birthday drink: score! Then we headed to Piroshky Piroshky. Let me tell you, this place smelt like a dream and tasted even better. I got the potato-onion-cheese piroshky and it was breakfast in a bun and even just writing about it right now is making my mouth water. If you are ever in Seattle go out of your way if you have to. This place is worth the stop.

After these two stops I knew I wanted to walk around and explore the market more but I also wanted to head to The Space Needle. So I got directions and was on my way. It was only about a twenty-minute walk or so. But I made my way up from the market to 4th Ave. Then I couldn't remember if I was supposed to go left or right so I stopped a man and asked him. He was completely outraged that I would walk that far. Nonetheless, he pointed me in the right direction and I was back on my way. About a block from my destination a woman walked up to me and started to give me a sob story about how she had missed her bus, and it was her birthday, and was stranded and if I could give her any money.

First of all, using your birthday as a sob story doesn't work so well when the person you're using it on is actually celebrating her birthday. However, I didn't have any cash on me and couldn't help her out either way. So I wished her a "happy birthday" we shook hands and she was on her way to the next group of people. I made it to my destination. Walk up to the counter to purchase my ticket. Hand over my credit card and the attendant asks to see my ID - you know, to prevent fraud and whatnot. He looks at it, compares signatures, then hands it back. 

"Wow, you speak really good English for someone that's from out of the country." He says upon returning my ID. 

"Uhmmm, I'm from Canada" I reply, thinking did this guy actually look at my ID or not because it says Canada right on it. Anyways, he's all "I hear you guys have coloured money, is that true?" So, I go into my purse, and whip out a Canadian $10 bill I have been carrying around for the last three months. And I blew his mind. 

I board the elevator and take that 41 second ride to the top as the attendant rambles off facts and what we're seeing as we go up. Get to the top, walk around, take some pictures. It was beautiful. I might have spent longer at the top if it was a sunny day, but it was still an awesome experience. Also the most expensive elevator ride I think I've ever taken. 

I head back down, meander through the gift shop. Giggle to myself at the "Space Needle" shaped lollipops that resemble a part of the male anatomy a little too well. Then I make my way back out the doors and retrace my original steps. I'm on my way back to the market. Cross the street only to be met by a man shoving a crumbled piece of orange paper in my face claiming that he needs $5 to stay in the homeless shelter tonight. Great, but I apologize that, again, I don't have any cash on me. This man grows irate and starts yelling at me that he doesn't want cash but instead wants things like pennies and nickles, YOU KNOW?! I reply, calmly and nicely that I don't have any cash. NO CASH. Okay, well I don't have any change either, I tell him. SEE CHANGE. NOT CASH. I WANT CHANGE. And before he can even finish the last word he's onto the next people. Asking for change not cash.

Before I make it back to the market I have another person wave to me on the street and tell me that they love me. Thank you? And I keep walking. I make a pit stop one block away from the market at this little cupcake shop called CupCake Royale. A couple of the girls working inside the market recommended it to me. So I place my order for my one birthday cupcake and on a whim I ask, do you guys give discounts for birthdays? Of course they do. You get a free birthday cupcake! Never hurts to ask, apparently.

I get my cupcake and now I'm finally back at the market. I walk around the entire Pike Place Market. Looking at all the stands and shops. Enjoying many samples of fruit and jams and pasta and, well, you name it. After a few hours I head back to my hostel. As I sat eating dinner in the kitchen, messaging a couple of my friends about the days events. I laugh at all the shenanigans I encountered but then I think of how grateful I am that I got to spend a birthday, completely expectation free. Strangers wishing me a happy birthday. Enjoying free coffee and a cupcake. Life could be worse my friends, life could be worse. 

In front of the gum wall - second germiest tourist attraction in the world! 

World Famous Fish Throwers of Pike Place Market 

Waiting for my birthday drink at The Original Starbucks 

At the top of The Space Needle

 

Forty Eight

As some of you may know, yesterday I crossed state lines from Oregon into Washington which officially brings my visiting total to forty-eight states. That's right, I've managed to see all of the lower forty-eight states and it's been nothing short of amazing. Yet, rather than sit here and write about all my heart-felt, touching experiences, instead, I am going to share with you some things I've learnt - some of you might remember me doing something similar back in October. In no particular order:

Safety Corridor: this is one of my favourites. Every once in a while on the highways/freeways/interstates you come across a section labelled the safety corridor. There are signs reminding you to drive safe, follow the rules of the road, and what not. Which is great. Awesome, really. I'm all for safe driving. The only thing is, shouldn't you be doing this all the time? Shouldn't the entire road be a safety corridor? Points for trying but I think you kind of missed the mark on this one, America.

Pass: if you're driving in the mountains, when you're nearing the top and finally crossing over and down you have reached and are coming down the pass - up and over.

State Signs and State Lines: Every time you cross a state line there is a sign (or multiple signs) welcoming you into this new state. People like to stop and take pictures of the state signs - I don't like stopping so I just multitask and snap a picture on the move. Majority of these signs are on the right shoulder. However, every once in a while you'll only see the state sign and you have to be really prepared for a picture because the sign is located in some obscure place - like the top of a bridge in Ohio. Many states even warn you that you'll be coming to a rest stop/welcome centre in 2 miles before you cross said line. These states were my favourite. I got pictures of every single one. So, America, let's try and keep it consistent.

Construction Zone Decoy: many a time I was driving from one destination to the next I would happen upon those bright orange signs that absolutely everyone hates. The ones warning you that there was construction ahead, even worse if one lane was going to be closed. I cannot tell you how many times I saw those warning signs, slowed down, even moved over a lane only to travel miles without seeing a shred of evidence that any construction had or was taking place. And just as soon I'd reach a sign that said "End Road Work." Now, either I have extremely bad eye sight or lack of ability to determine what road work/construction is or I had been Punk'd dozens of times. Thanks America.

No Passing Zone: I travelled my fair share of single lane highways. Most people know, rather, should know,  that when there are the solid, yellow lines this is a no passing zone. I have to give credit to New Mexico for their execution in ensuring everyone on the road knew when they were in a no passing zone because every. single. time. those centre lines changed to solid there were signs posted on BOTH shoulders "No Passing Zone". Which was excellent. Redundant, would maybe be more of an accurate description considering the one highway I was on was almost entirely twists and turns making it more of a no passing zone than a passing zone. After seeings those signs, and the solid lines, about thirty times or so one kind of gets the point. Message received.

*While on the topic of single-lane highways. I just want to take a moment to give a shout out to all those incredible drivers that decided riding my behind when I was already stuck behind someone going under the speed limit really didn't do anyone much good. You got mad. I got mad. Everyone got nervous. So, maybe, we don't do that anymore?

Cruise Control: say it with me folks - CRUISE CONTROL. It is your friend. Please use it. There is nothing more frustrating, and there is nothing that makes me look like a jerk more than having to pass the same car five or six times because, while I travel at a constant, set speed they are slowing down and speeding up every ten miles or so.

Shoes: here's one that has nothing to do with driving. Why do all Americans wear their shoes inside? I have never been anywhere else in the world where people leave their shoes on inside the house. Some people did change to indoor shoes once they got in but majority just never took their shoes off. Don't your carpets get dirty? Don't your floors need to be swept and washed, like, every day? What's the deal with the shoes.

Kleenex: I found it very rare to find a house that had Kleenex (tissues) as well as toilet paper. I mean, I guess they are multifunctional but I found that one kind of weird.

Condiments: you are absolutely not American if you don't put ranch or hot sauce on everything you eat. They are the national condiments and if you're sitting around a table with a group of people at a hostel, random scenario thrown on the table, you can always tell who is an American by their condiment choice.

Laws: they are SO different from one state to the other. In some places you are almost expected to smoke. And smoke every where - bars, restaurants, casinos, you name it. Then there are other places where you might have your arm chopped off if you smoke too close to a place - I might be over exaggerating. While I support the latter, it's so bizarre to me how the laws can be so polar opposite from one place to the next. The same thing goes for laws such as whether or not you are required to wear a helmet while riding a motorcycle, if you're allowed to consume alcohol in public, if you're allowed to purchase (or sell) alcohol on Sundays, and whether or not it's against the law to use your cell phone while driving. Obviously, just to be safe I never did any of the above.

*While on the topic of laws, one of the most interesting things I learnt was that it is illegal for you to pump your own gas in the entire state of Oregon. Before I found this out I broke the law by pumping my own gas. I'm such a rebel.

Parking: even though you may have found a wicked-awesome, money-saving deal on accommodations in a city it doesn't really matter if you're travelling with a car and need to pay for parking. The cost to park in some places, especially over night, costs you your fist born child - or at least their college fund.

ID: I get it. My ID is weird looking. You've never seen it before. You want to know where it's from. But here's the thing, if when I hand it to you I give you a helpful little tip of the day and say "date of birth is right under the picture" don't ignore me. Listening skills aren't the forte of anyone that has checked my ID in the states because most spent minutes scanning over the entire card looking for that date of birth.

Arbitrary Gas Prices: I'm not complaining, I promise. Because even at the most expensive gas stations in the states, gas is still cheaper than in Canada. It just boggled my mind that there could be upwards of three gas stations in a one block radius and the price difference could be anywhere from a couple cents to almost thirty cents. How does that make sense. Why would anyone ever go to the most expensive station?

We Aren't That Different: okay, so you might prefer football while hockey flows through our veins. We eat ketchup chips and not quite as much Mexican food. We have coloured money, you don't. The word toque and going tobogganing are foreign concepts to you, but hey, our winter lasts so long we had to start making up extra words. And the word "about" gives me away as being Canadian every time. But if there is anything I have learnt, overwhelmingly so, is that we aren't that different. We drive the same kinds of cars, watch the same television programs, we like the same music, and we all celebrate Halloween (yes, I was asked). Not many of you have ever been to Canada but most of us have been to the states - but that's because virtually everything is cheaper in the states. I guess what I am trying to say here is that we could take any US citizen, blindfold them, spin them around and drop them in any Canadian city around the country and there wouldn't be any blaring differences (with the exception being any city in Quebec, for obvious reasons).

It's been fun. It's been a blast. It's been a learning experience. I wouldn't change a single thing and I don't regret a single penny spent. While I will spend the next five nights in Seattle, WA living out a fantasy that I am in an episode of Grey's Anatomy, I just want to say: Thanks America. Thanks for having me. Thanks for being you, wack-a-doo laws and all. Let's do it again someday.

Getting Lucky

In a little bar in downtown San Francisco a little old lady sits every Thursday night. She sits double fisting - water in one hand, orange juice in the other - and she waits. She waits at the bar top. She h
as her drinks refilled before they ever reach the bottom. She sits. She waits. You see, Thursday nights just to happen to be the night that three of the hostels in San Francisco get together to do a pub crawl. And Lucky only goes out on Thursday nights because she "likes to meet all the different people from all over the world."

A couple weeks ago, I just so happened to be a member of that same Thursday night pub crawl group that traipsed from one local bar to the next before making our way into Lucky's spot, our third stop of six for the night. You could ask me the name of the bar. But I wouldn't be able to tell you. In fact, I have no idea what any of the six bars were called. I just know one had a giant olive on the sign out front, another was an English-style pub, and one seemed just a little too big for it's britches. But, that's beside the point.

At Lucky's bar, she sits every Thursday night. Sipping her OJ and water, and waits for the group to come through the door. The bar stools all around Lucky are empty. I think she does this strategically. I think she purposefully keeps those stools open so that some of these foreign strangers will have to sit beside her. And wouldn't you know it, one of those very stools was calling my name.

It could have been the fact that within minutes of sitting down next to Lucky we were have a Johnny Cash sing-a-long. Or maybe it was that she reminded me of one of my grandmas (nanny). But nonetheless, Lucky and I sat and chatted. About everything from San Francisco to her ex-husband. Lucky is in the process of writing a book right now. No, she hasn't written anything else. Why? "Because I only do things once. One husband. One book. I don't like to do things more than once." Lucky explains to me. And even though she's lived in San Francisco for the last twenty years you can still detect that East-coast, Bawwston accent in her every word.

Lucky makes me smile. Lucky makes me laugh. And when she scrawls her address on a piece of scrap paper and hands it to me and asks that I send her a postcard from somewhere during my travels, how could I even think to say no.

Lucky goes out on Thursday nights. She sits in the same bar and she waits. She sips, alternating between her orange juice and then her water. She sits in the bar and she waits for some new friends. If you're Lucky enough to be in San Francisco on a Thursday night, maybe you'll meet her too.

Expectations

The thing about expectations is, when you have them there are three options: they're exceeded, they're met, or they're let down. But you probably knew that already. I learnt very early on in this trip that the fewer expectations you have - for a city, for a place, for people, the less chance you have of being let down.

I heard it over and over again. I was questioned countless times. Why Wichita? Why Fredericton? Why Oklahoma City? Why? I mean, they don't really have a reputation for being the biggest of tourist attractions. There's nothing special about these places. There isn't much to do. There isn't much to see. That's what I was told. Austin is the middle stop in a triad of travel. People are either coming from or going to New Orleans or Las Vegas. You're the only person I've ever heard say they are going to Oklahoma from Texas. Why?

Why not? The thing about expectations is, when you have no expectations, when you don't listen to all the people telling you that you have to see this or that you are wasting your time by doing that, if you ignore the expectations and the warnings and head in with an open mind and ready to discover whatever may come your way you're never going to be let down. You're never going to be disappointed. You're never going to feel like you wasted your time or your money. Because you take responsibility for your choice and you find what is so special about these places. You look where others may not. You talk to people that others may have skipped over. And as a result, you experience some pretty fascinating places - like the museum of treasures, or meet some amazing people like the bartender that became your friend, or you get to experience some pretty amazing things that many other people in the world won't, like celebrating Pink Friday with Blake Shelton and Miranda Lambert.

When you are influenced to back track to a place because of their world-renowned zoo and reputation for warm, sunny weather you're being influenced and led by expectations. And, if I have learnt nothing else over the last 40, 000 km of driving it's that having expectations is one of the worst things you can do when travelling.