Ah! In Spain...Finally...

It is amazing how just crossing the boarder into Spain relaxed me.  The vibe here is so different than France.  So MELLOW. I don't know if it is because the start of my journey was in France, or the people, or the language barrier...I don't know, but I didn't like it.

I cannot believe the hostel I'm staying at.  Total freaking surfer hang out. Right on the beach...no shoes...people coming and going...again..they could be my children.  They have finally left for the evening so I am able to sit here quietly watch the ocean and write.  This is the life I want...Can you hear me universe?  A place near the ocean where I can make a home, have a garden, cook, write, and love my guy forever.

I'm listening to the guys here in the common room.  The discussions on how drunk they got last night are sort of amusing.  I'm so glad that I'm no longer in that space.  Enjoying life...YES!  Eating tapas last night was almost a sexual experience.  Getting so wasted that I cannot remember my name?  I don't think so.

I did enjoy some wine and other party favors with a couple of the surfers that were hanging out in the hostel.  Kyle is from the USA, and is trying to break a record on how many bottles of cheap wine he can drink in a day...don't people do that in high school?  Diego, on the other hand, travels the world looking for the perfect wave.  He's great to look at, but who knows if the things he says are true?

The conversation was all about drinks, surf, and Diego's quest to have sex with a girl from every world culture...I think he's making a study  of it all...I just listen and think...these boys have no idea...but they sure are providing me with some amusement.

Exactly what I need....

Hostel Blues

I am having hostel frustration.  The place I am staying at in Nice, Villa Saint Exupery, is one of the top rated hostels in the world.  I can see why, the grounds are lovely, a great bar, and delighful meals for very cheap prices.  I feel very lucky that I have one of the air conditioned rooms because many are not and the heat here is almost unbearable.

I've met some really wonderful people:  Nick my beach partner from Toronto, Andes and his family from Sydney, and Thormud a 76 year-old backpacker from Melborne. 

Since I am here for six days I am trying to make a socialogical study of the comings and goings of the backpackers in my nine bed dorm room.  Some have snuck in in the middle of the night only to be gone before daylight.  It is like they are on a secret mission.

Then there's Pierre from Quebec City...I cannot remember his real name, but he speaks with a slight French accent.  His bunk is above mine.  He has bags of food all over and has decided that our two beds are his personal clothes line for drying his laundry.  I woke up to a curtain of laundry blocking my view.  Glad I am not claustrophobic.

Others, like Chris, from NYC, sleeps all day and rises around happy hour time.  He then proceeds to drink himself into oblivion and pick up whatever unsuspecting 21 year-old he can find.  I'm wondering if this is working for him?

I really don't want to sound like this old lady complaining about, "those damn kids," because they all have a story and I find them all facinating.  I just don't think getting as drunk as humanly possible each night is how I want to spend my trip.  I'm not judging, it is just not my bag.

The door doesn't really lock in my room, and even if it did none of my roommates seem to care about locking things up.  I'm sure they think I am ultra paranoid because I lock up both backpack and suitcase, and lock the suitcase to the bedpost.

Today I came back from visiting Aux en Provence and I look down and I see a few pairs of men's underwear.  One of my roommate's I presume.  I must admit I did try and look to see if they were dirty or clean...gross I know...they were dirty.   I wanted to take a picture, but people started coming home...I'm sure they would've thought it odd.  I think it is odd that someone leaves their dirty underwear lying around a hostel floor.

I've developed this awful cough over the last couple days.  I'm thinking I am allergic to something in the air or in the room, and it is quite annoying...for both me and my roommates.  It sucks because I wake up in the middle of the night coughing like crazy and cannot seem to stop.  Matthew from Toronto gave me some cough drops which help somewhat.  I'm sure my roommates are sharing my lack of sleep because of this...sorry guys, the last thing I want to do is contribute to your sleep depervation.

Last night on the phone with my guy back home I tried to explain my frustation.  I was weepy from lack of sleep and the relentless cough.  I know he cares and wants to help, but this is something I have to figure out on my own.  Part of me having a life out here that is only mine. 

Having an assortment of roommates will be part of this trip there are no two ways about it.  It just is, and like everything else when I come to peace with it things will be easier.  Running away and laying down my credit card for a hotel room is, in my opinion, a puss way out, and not part of the life I want to experience out here.  Days are coming where I will have my own room and they will be doubly sweet....

So suck it up, Gracie, and deal with it.

Ok...I'm Here...In France...Sheesh...

I've been gone from home for almost a week now.  My gay husband told me that it would take me a few days to get used to being so far away.  He was right. 

I think I am in the loneliness stage.  You know that point where I am wondering if this trip was the best idea. 

My three days in Paris were filled with walking among millions of people, but the sudden feeling of being all alone in the world surged in me in such an unexpected way.  It was as if I was standing on the outside of this huge club house and I could see into the window but I couldn't find the door that would allow me inside.

I am smart enough to realize that the unbearable heat of Paris, along with the process of getting my travel legs under me didn't help.  Finally, on my last day in Paris I found this lovely place, Jardin du Luxenburg.  A quiet park where I just sat and gathered myself, and came to peace that I will be away for the next two months.

Last summer when I went to Spain. I left Virginia without a thought.  No ties.  Just a couple good friends that will always be my good friends.  This trip is different...there's someone at home...waiting.  In my wildest dreams I never thought something like that would happen. 

As much as I want to see him, to touch him, just be with him, I must wrap my head around the fact that we are going to be apart for the next few weeks.  I have to make a little life for myself where he's in my heart, but not in my day to day life.

A life out here that is mine, this is what I need to do.  Sitting here in this hostel in Nice, France I am surrounded by a ton of people.  Many of them are young enough to be my children, yet I think I've fit in.  Well, I've found a few who seem to accept me as who I am.   I think that was what I've been waiting for.  To be sitting here in the middle of this frat party hostel writing this post and thinking, "Well...here I am and I'm OK."

I ventured out to the beach today.  Villefranche was the village/beach I went to.  I met Nick, from my hostal on the tram to the bus station.  We ended up hanging at the beach all day.  Was loads of fun...was some actual intelligent conversation.  Was the first time on this trip that I actually felt my normal self.  I just sat and talked with another person about life...how lovely. 

People who don't travel on their own don't realize how nice it is to find someone to truly bond with.

Tonight in the bar I chatted up people that I've met in the last couple days, plus a couple new people.  This one Swedish gentleman, who I met my first night here, asked me why I haven't started writing my novel yet.  Good question.  I don't know why...where is that fear coming from? 

Maybe I'll figure that out here....

Travel With A New Purpose...

Feeling a bit nostalgic I just read some of my posts from last summer's trip to Spain.   As I'm reading I'm thinking to myself how different my life is now.  I was asked last summer if my trip to Spain was my way of running away.  At that time I WAS running, but at the same time I was healing and most significantly I was growing....I wonder if the person who asked me about running away has grown?

I've been planning my next adventure which begins in two months.  My journey will take me to France, back to Spain, and to Portugal.  Am I running again?  Of course, but this time I'm running TO something...discovery, exploration, opportunity, and life.

One of my best friends, and gay husband, sent me a box of business cards this week.  Under my name it says, "Teacher/Writer/Explorer," and the quote at the top appropriately states, "Not all those who wander are lost."  Amazing what happens in a year's time, isn't it?

Last summer I left Virgina feeling lost and a bit broken.  This summer I will leave knowing that this is the way my life SHOULD be.  I'm supposed to explore and I'm supposed to write.  As far as being broken...well, all is put back together and stronger than ever.

I wrote last summer that I am a survivor...that I've always achieved the goals I set.  This is true...this last year I've made tremendous strides not only as a teacher, but as a writer, and as a woman.  What is truly amazing is that the reality is so much sweeter than I originally visualized.

Sometimes I have to stop and wonder if all this is really happening.  Am I about to travel Europe for six weeks on my own?  Am I a homeowner?  Am I really a paid writer?  Am I at peace at my school?  Am I in love for real this time?

Yep...it is REALLY happening...thanks...I'm enjoying each and every delicious moment...