Public transportation: 2. Stephanie & Alex: 0.

Time for an update, for you, the Reader. It's Day 57. In exactly 21 days, Alex heads back home. Can you believe it's gone by so quickly?

Now, to catch you up, let's answer the question we get at least once a day, as we're meeting tons of new people and everyone wants to hear about our travels thus far:

"Where have you been so far?"

I'll tell you.

England (London, Windsor, Manchester, York, Bath, Salisbury)
Scotland (Inverness, Aberdeen, Edinburgh)
Wales (Cardiff)
Ireland (Dublin, Rosslare)
France (Cherbourg, Paris)
Belgium (Brussels, Brugge)
The Netherlands (Leeuwarden, Amsterdam)
Germany (Berlin, Munich, Frankfurt, Konstanz)
Switzerland (the Alps)
Finland (Lahti, Helsinki)
Sweden (Stockholm)
Norway (Oslo, Bergen)
Denmark (Copenhagen)
Czech Republic (Plzen, Karlovy Vary, Prague)
Austria (Innsbruck, Salzburg, Vienna)
and
Italy (Venice, Varese, Milan, Bologna, Florence, Genoa, Latina, Rome)

Thus far.

Like I said, there's still three weeks left of the backpacking portion of this trip, and more sights, cities, delicious food, and people to meet.

Since we're moving at such a rapid pace, it was nearly impossible to prepare ourselves Rosetta Stone style for all the communication. But you'll be happy to know, we're learning at least one new language:

The Language of Public Transportation. (Not yet available in Rosetta Stone.)

For those of you that have experience living in a big city with lively and fully functioning public transportation, this is probably a language you already know. But coming from a small town near a big city that relies on the automobile for a person's main means of transport - the public transportation system is not our first language, or forte. 

But, rule # 7 is this: If you learn how to navigate the public transportation system, it will be almost as if you actually speak the language. 

For example, I don't speak Dutch, French, German, much Italian, or any of the Scandinavian languages, but within seconds of entering a train station I can now find the information booth, and know which word means platform, train number, etc. I never understand what the people on the overhead announcements are saying when they speak to the passengers, but I have learned how to recognize when it's time for our stop. (For the most part - more on that later...) I know now what "next stop" is in multiple languages. I know when they want to see my ticket/rail pass, even though I never understand what they're saying. 

I've learned to simply recognize the word of the stop, and can successfully communicate to a native where I need to be. I never have a clue what the rest of the words are, and I couldn't carry on a more detailed conversation with any of the natives in the countries, but I can successfully count the number of stops from where I am (insert the name I just read from the sign here), to where I need to be (insert the name of the location I need here).

But just because we're learning a new language doesn't mean we always win when it comes to speaking this language.

Most of you know this, but I'm going to state it anyway. Alex and I, we're Texans. Not just any Texans either, we're from the DFW/Houston/Austin areas. Those are the places Alex and I have spent the most time while living in the Lone Star State. Those of you familiar with said cities and our state are familiar with the lack of a public transportation system that could legitimately rival Europe's.

Just when we thought we'd really conquered the train system in Europe, this occurred:

16:37 we're supposed to leave from Florence to Pisa. Italian trains are notorious for running on their own schedule, and true to form, our train pulls away from the station at 16:57. Given this delay, I mentally factor in an extra 20 minutes until we're supposed to arrive at our destination. The train to Pisa is roughly an hour.five long. We didn't sleep the healthy 8-9 hours the night before, so on the train Alex dozes off. He usually seems to count on me to be on top of the game when we're on the train and he's tired, and I don't mind. But after being on trains for 2 months on a regular basis, we've caught on to when we can relax and when we need to keep alert. This train on the schedule appears to be ending in Pisa, and that kind of stop is nearly impossible to miss. So while I never doze off on the train, I definitely nod off once or twice. And at one point, I start to think "we should have made it to Pisa by now." But as I'm aware of the reputation of Italy trains, I'm not concerned. Although...it's never served me poorly to ask for directions, so I walk up to an old woman with kind eyes, and ask her how far to Pisa.

"Pisa?"

"Si."

(Points over her shoulder). "Back. We...already pass. You miss."

"Oh."

Honestly, I'm not concerned, or really jilted. It's just one of those moments where I realize, what the heck are you going to do?

So I return to my seat and inform Alex. He responds with the same composed demeanor. I mean honestly, what are you going to do at this point? So we at first consider getting off at the next big stop. But after one smaller stop, we begin to think it could be quite a while before we get to the next major station. So we get off at the next stop, anticipating a train will come through heading in the opposite direction to take us back from whence we came.

The lady with kind eyes gets off at the same random stop we chose: S. Stefano Magra. (Actually, it's a beautiful place, definitely not a bad place to get stranded.) The lady continues in her kindness by asking again, "You go to Pisa, no?" We nod, and then explain we'd like to get there or to Rome. She proceeds to explain to us that this isn't a major station, and we can't get to Rome from here. But we can get back to Pisa, or carry on to La Spezia. She runs off to check the schedule. (This should be known - we're under a bit of a time crunch. From Pisa, trains don't run all night to Rome, and we're currently running the risk of missing the last train of the day. This fact is in the back of our minds the entire time.) Turns out there's a rain leaving within the hour that gets back to Pisa, but it doesn't arrive until roughly 15 minutes past the last train to Rome. The reason we're so keen on getting straight to Rome tonight is this: we have a Couchsurfing host there awaiting us, and not only would we prefer not to pay for accomodations if we already have them lined up, but we're anxious to get to Rome, meet up with Allison, and explore.)

So we hope the next train to La Spezia at 19:28. Arriving at La Spezia Centrale at 19:46, we have roughly 14 minutes to catch the train to Rome, the last train of the evening. But, it requires a reservation, and we've arrived a few minutes late. So I drop my stuff down with Alex at the platform, and race off to secure a reservation for us. (If you don't make a reservation for a train that requires one, you can incur a 40 euro fee, if not more.) But not only am I running short on time, but I really have to pee, don't have any time to do so, and while a nice Nigerian let me go in front of him in my angst and rush, the two Chinese girls at the counter in front of me did not share my passion for alacrity at the moment. By 19:58 I figure it's worth the 40 euro fee as long as we catch our train, and I run back to the platform where I left Alex. Right as I run up the stairs, the train pulls up, and we quickly grab our bags and hop on. I explain I didn't manage to get reservations, but Alex, noticing the lack of humanity aboard said train, doesn't think it's going to be a problem.

Now we're on the train. Insert sigh of relief here. There aren't many feelings better than catching the train you needed when you thought you surely wouldn't make it. We've experienced this feeling multiple times during our travels. As Christian would say, we're "time optimists."

I drop my stuff in our seats and run off to find a bathroom, glad we can finally relax from this minor catastrophe of ending up in the unfamiliar small towns of Italy.

But as I'm walking around the train, I'm recognizing that for a "reservation compulsory" train, it's rather dingy. My first opinion is only confirmed when I try the first bathroom, the lock is broken, and I nearly walk in on someone doing their business.

"Mi dispiace."

Second bathroom is unoccupied, but the toilet is missing a seat cover, toilet paper, paper towels, and soap. What it does have is a faucet that works, but only for 2.7 seconds, and all that time it merely sputters out. Beautiful.

I return to my seat, to find my observations confirmed: the dingy-ness of this train does not match up to the typical train that requires a reservation. Why? When I return to my seat, Alex looks at me and exclaims, "I think we're on the wrong train."

You're kidding me.

Turns out we hopped the train on platform 2, and we should have been on platform 3, the one directly behind the wrong one we took. (There are downsides to the flexibility a rail pass provides.)

So now we discover, after my broken Italian words helps me ascertain information from the only other person on the train, that we're bound for Genova/Genoa. We will be arriving there at 21:30.

At this point there's no hope in making it to Roma tonight, as we're only getting further away, and the train system is nearly completion for the day. Fortunately, and for this I'm quite thankful, the city towards which we are headed is in our guidebook, and I am able to call and reserve us a room so we have a place to sleep that night. What awaits us is a very nice bed upon which to sleep, with breakfast included in the price, and the most cheerful and welcoming Italian concierge we've ever met.

On the plus side, I am thankful for guidebooks, our pay-as-you-go-phones, and a God that provides. Not to mention, who knew one could get access to your email, Facebook, and bank account from the Kindle experimental basic web feature? Nifty.

“A good traveller has no fixed plans, and is not intent on arriving.” – Lao Tzu


"Tourists don’t know where they’ve been, travellers don’t know where they’re going.” – Paul Theroux

Simple things, great pleasure.

“Travel does what good novelists also do to the life of everyday, placing it like a picture in a frame or a gem in its setting, so that the intrinsic qualities are made more clear. Travel does this with the very stuff that everyday life is made of, giving to it the sharp contour and meaning of art." -Freya Stark

When it comes to my taste buds, my palate is a bit strange, as far as most opinions go.

For example, I actually prefer the gourmet quality of Taco Bell's grade F meat to the authentic and high quality Mexican food. (But given how much I mention Taco Bell, this may not surprise you at all.) In addition, I will choose the tastiness of delivered pizza such as Papa John's or Dominos over a pizza cooked by a fancy Italian restaurant. (Although I'm currently in Italy, and any pizza, anywhere, from any place tastes delicious. You can't miss in this place). When ordering ice cream, 99.9% of the time I'm ordering classic chocolate, no matter what kind of snazzy and creative flavors are options.

What can I say, I'm a girl of simple tastes, and when it comes to food, I'm not complicated to please. In fact, as you have probably ascertained by the amount of blog space I've already dedicated to Taco Bell, I take great pleasure in my simple tastes. (Plus, they save me quite a bit of money on food!)

People used to tell me that high school or college were going to be the best four years of my life. Anytime someone told me this, I thought they were crazy. That sentence alone depresses me. Who wants to be maxed out at age 18 or 22? Not this girl. I like to believe that life only gets better with age, with wisdom, and with experiences.

When on a trip such as this, backpacking through all these glorious cities in Europe, the days are filled with moments of glamour and beauty, and "once in a lifetime" opportunities abound with all the sights to see and experiences to have.

But as beautiful as the "once in a lifetime" joys are, I personally think it's a bittersweet concept to only get something so joyous once in a lifetime. Were my sources of great pleasure only found at the expense of a one time backpacking experience, or the four years of high school or college, logically that leaves a great portion of my life only dreaming about such experiences, or working my way up to the next source of great pleasure. Sadly I find a great many people spend most of their life dreaming about glamorous, exciting experiences while living in a perspective that sees the world (and perhaps even the people) around them as mundane. We believe the great pleasures and joys are only found "once in a lifetime," and somehow we've satiated ourselves with mere dreaming, convinced this is the way things are.

But as for me, I like to find and see the great joy in the little things, the things that will still be available to us tomorrow, the things that can still be found years from now. I'm convinced of this: If we can learn to find great joy in some of the simplest of things, the world will suddenly be filled with possibility for phenomenal experiences all the time.

I once saw the sunrise from Mount Sinai. No question, that was incredible. But I take just as much joy in seeing the sunrise or sunset from the simplicity of a backyard, or the ferry ride a few weeks ago.

Consider the laughter of a child. It is pure, unadulterated, completely innocent, and 100% bursting with authentic joy. Few things are more beautiful, in my opinion. I realize you don't have to cross oceans and time zones to see or hear this, and to me, that's the beauty of it. Its availability on this planet is nearly ubiquitous.

Recognizing this, suddenly one realizes that journeys such as this one, where every day is a new adventure filled with new potential friendships, new photo opportunities, and grand places to visit - these journeys don't have to end when we return home, but they can continue for all of our days.

“The traveler was active; he went strenuously in search of people, of adventure, of experience. The tourist is passive; he expects interesting things to happen to him. He goes sight-seeing.” – Daniel J. Boorstin

On the one hand, I can choose the life of a tourist. I visit beautiful places and people, and let them visit me internally. But I do not take them with me, they do not change who I am.

But on the other hand, I can choose the life of a traveler. I can appreciate the beauty of the Duomo in Florence or Milan, but I can also find just as much beauty in the soft rain falling outside my window, just as much joy in a short message from a good friend.

I would prefer to be a traveler through life, capable of carrying the perspective I am learning and recreating the magical experiences I am living into each and every day of my life, regardless of where I am. For as I am meeting people and seeking out the beauty in places, I ask, "Is this not possible in any place, where there are people and existence and life happening?" Perhaps, if I allow my vision to become inspired, I can find myself living days such as these wherever I am, whomever I'm with. Perhaps you and I and all places are beautiful simply because they all reside under the same sky, because they are all created by the same Hand, because they all reflect life and the beauty that lies within.

I don't wish to spend my life going from one mountaintop to waiting for another, only really taking pleasure in the "once in a lifetime" experiences that take (sometimes) miles and years of valleys to reach again.

No, I wish to find the joy and beauty of the valleys, the mundane, the redundant, the simple, and the commonplace...

...because if we can achieve that kind of vision, the world becomes a blissful romance, a constant delight to the sense, even the shades of gray.

“I soon realized that no journey carries one far unless, as it extends into the world around us, it goes an equal distance into the world within.” Lillian Smith


"Your true traveller finds boredom rather agreeable than painful. It is the symbol of his liberty - his excessive freedom. He accepts his boredom, when it comes, not merely philosophically, but almost with pleasure." - Aldous Huxley

What does it mean to 'hope'?

On April 22, 2010, we are on a train in Italy at 21:45...

We went to Bologna, Italy, with the hopes that we could connect with a Couchsurfing host who said he could host us tonight and tomorrow night. But with no response on Couchsurfing, no texts or calls from the potential hosts to whom I gave our contact information, we were 45 minutes away from missing the last train. So, we are now on a train to Florence. 

Picture this, folks. I have duct tape wrapped around the balls of my feet. Why? Because in the process of walking around so much (after the great weather prompted an exciting switch from hiking boots to Birkenstocks), I now have quarter/2 euro-size blisters between the pads of my feet. Unpleasant. Which means I am also slightly limping, as I try to avoid full pressure and body weight upon said duct-taped blisters. 

I am walking, with my brother, and I'm constantly on the lookout as we tread through the dark and somewhat daunting streets of Bologna. (Not that Bologna, Italy is particularly scary, but let's be honest, any foreign city where you don't have a place to sleep yet is going to be daunting and a bit creepy when the lights go dim and everyone looks potentially threatening.) 

I'm frustrated, because despite the positive statistics of having multiple potential hosts in a city, they have all proved to be fruitless this evening. 

I'm exhausted. I miss the days when I didn't wonder where I was going to sleep that night. 

I'm a bit afraid. I hate walking around cities at night, especially when they aren't my own cities. It's never less scary, the next foreign city I walk into, with the backpack that screams "tourist", to not have a place to call home for the night, a base at which to set up camp and feel like you have a space in these foreign lands. 

And frankly, I'm confused...because I'm out here attempting to put faith in my God, and I'm not exactly sure why He hasn't shown up yet, in this moment.

What does one make of a situation like this? What promises have You made, Lord? What can we actually count on? No one texted or called even though we had people promising they could host us. Yet without contact information or a response with directions in order to meet them, no matter what they said, we still don't have a place to put down our things and rest our heads. Never has it been more frustrating to not have regular internet access, as I must check the Couchsurfing website to see if any responses have been received. And it's far from cheap, using the internet cafes. 

So have we been defeated, as we go to Florence to get a hostel? You never promised it would look a certain way. And we did try. Did You fail us? I believe we'd have a host in Bologna, a host said we could stay there, and yet, it didn't work out. So what does one make of this? I feel abandoned in moments like these, thinking, "Surely, if the Lord loves us, He wouldn't leave us without a place to stay." And my situation isn't the worst of possibilities, only a slightly fearful one. There are much worse ways to be spending an evening, much more fearful scenarios that boggle the mind and send shivers down the spine. 

It's no coincidence I'm reading the book of Job right now. And as I put on my headphones to find peace in the train ride, I hear these words from Phil Wickham...

"In Your presence, God, I'm completely satisfied."

And there it is. Job says, "Though He slay me, I will hope in him." (13:15)

I don't know if you can relate, but my first reaction when reading what Job says here leaves me completely baffled. What kind of idiot makes a statement like that, going back in for another beating?! Dearest reader, I will never pretend to always be great at deciding to follow the Lord. Sometimes it seems completely illogical, insane, and absolutely ridiculous.

So back to the question at hand. What kind of idiot makes such a statement as, "Though He slay me, I will hope in Him?"

Perhaps the kind that knows what is really worth saving, and fighting for. The kind that has fallen in Love, and believes Your judgement is wiser than mine/his/ours. (Parents will appreciate this one, knowing that sometimes you really do know what's best for your children, and they simply don't see it. Does it make them an idiot to obey you if they can't too see the logic behind the decision? Not at all.) 

Perhaps the kind of idiot that knows that things in life are such small things compared to the greater spiritual things. (This reminds me of the time in Matthew 9 when Jesus forgave a man's sins, but at first left him in his crippled, paralyzed state. Only when questioned about his authority to forgive such eternal, spiritual matters did Jesus heal him, saying 'Take up your mat and walk.' Because Jesus knew the greater treasure was to be forgiven for his sins; compared to such things the use of one's legs is not a great triumph.)

But I'm still confused. The disciples followed You, and yet You allowed harm to befall them. Beaten, imprisoned, crucified, persecuted...and yet they continued to hope in You. Paul, referencing David's words, said, "What can man do to me?" 

Well - a lot of things! Life seemed to really kick your butt, Paul! You were shipwrecked, beaten, lost at sea, imprisoned, flogged, exposed to death more than once, lashed, stoned, constantly without a place to call home, nearly drowned, seemed to be threatened in one way or another by any and every type of person he encountered, sleep-deprived, often starving, cold, and without clothing, etc. (2 Corinthians 11)

But he had You. 

Even Jesus didn't go through life physically unscathed. Why? 

At least one reason: to show us that not only do we take in fellowship with Jesus who suffered when we endure, but our prize is in never being left alone by You, God. 

I may one day end up sleeping on the streets, or worse, but You are always with me. 

Job lost everything. And sometimes that's the way it looks. Sometimes we try and think we are so faithful, hoping You'll respond with "your faith has healed/saved you." (Jesus does a lot of rewarding people's faith in the New Testament). But then, when the day ends, and we're still crippled, we're sleeping in a train station, life is still imperfect, things are still scary...we wonder if we did it wrong. We wonder if perhaps we had the wrong password to Heaven.

Then, we wonder if, this entire time, we've been talking to ourselves, and You are nothing more than a wishful figment of our imaginations.

Or maybe we only care about Your existence as long as it can bring us a good and profitable existence. But that's not Love in the way it's meant, is it?  

Perhaps there was and still is something we held as more important than You, perhaps a blessing from Your hand we wanted more than the precious hand itself. 

Yet the gift was You. And through that relationship, a beautiful inner life, independent from the outer circumstances, emerges. The kind that can produce joy despite immense pain and struggle, the kind that breeds hope when circumstances appear hopeless.

Though I cry, I may still laugh with You, because You never leave my side. Though I feel pain, disappointment, despair, anger, and exhaustion, all this will pass, and what will be left is always You. 

Though this day and moment don't look as I might have wanted, I have You. 

Can I be completely satisfied in Your presence? Or am I still hoping the hand will bring me something other than beautiful company, fellowship, empathy, and a shoulder to cry upon? 

And honestly, what is better than a hand to hold in a time of need? 

"In Your presence, God, I'm completely satisfied." -Phil Wickham

"Though He slay me, I will hope in Him." -Job 13:15

(And yet, the story ends well. Not two hours later, Alex and I found ourselves in the best hostel I've ever experienced. Who knew such a gem stood at the end of the long and weary road we traveled this evening? Through it all, we were safe, we had options, and the means to be flexible with the situation. For You, Lord, are my hope...Psalm 71:5). 

“The longest journey a man must take is the eighteen inches from his head to his heart”

Losing things.

“He who would travel happily must travel light.” – Antoine de Saint-Exupery

I hate to admit this, but in our six weeks of travel, in all the places we've stayed, in the packing and unpacking and repacking and doing laundry and searching for something that you find at the bottom of your belongings so you´ve been forced to take everything out...in this ongoing, cyclical process:

We've lost things. 


The list of things we've lost is pretty versatile. We've lost hats, other various articles of clothing, a piece of technology or two, a rail pass, hopefully some body fat, and a few pairs of socks. This is definitely an everchanging list. 
 

We're also losing a great deal of pride, as we learn it's ok to ask for directions, it's ok to like a fool and laugh at oneself, that we don't need to always demand our way in life, it's ok and much more fulfilling to be less selfish and more serving towards others, etc. We're losing the illusion of control over things, as we recognize that mistakes will be made, plans won't always turn out the way you expect, and sometimes you are arriving at a train station, with no means to contact your host, praying that the Lord will guide you and them together so you don't end up sleeping in a remote part of the Czech Republic that evening. We are losing our prejudices as we make new friends of different background, cultures, races, perspectives, sexual preference, ideology, religion, languages, etc. We are losing our vanity as we are working on day 49 of wearing practically the same outfit. We are losing the past's hold on us, as time takes us through experiences that shape who we are and the way we see the world, completely aware that we will never be quite who we were before this trip. We may even be losing some relationships, as time, distance, and divergant paths can often cause interaction to fade and people to lose touch.

But in times such as these, we also gain quite a bit, including a lighter physical load thanks to our forgetfulness of a few belongings. We are gaining muscles of all kinds, from carrying/hiking with/running with our big backpacksto more spiritual/mental muscles from learning how to endure when times are tough and things seem impossible, etc. We are gaining insight into new cultures, cities, perspectives, and ways of life. We are gaining many new friendships whether they be with our gracious hosts or someone we meet on a ferry, in a park, or at a local pub. We are gaining understanding of the way another person lives, believes, interacts, and sees the world, in addition to an understanding of things like foreign public transportation systems, and a few words here and there in various languages. Hopefully we're also gaining a lighter load mentally and spiritually, as we learn that some people really are trustworthy, and that beautiful relationships can develop when we're willing to do what we can and live generously. Hopefully we're gaining a lighter mental/spiritual load as we learn that life really can be fulfilling in the moment and the seemingly mundane, even if a person has no idea what they want to be when they grow up.


"Maybe like a match being lit or the sinking of a ship, letting go gives a better grip..." -David Crowder Band


Maybe sometimes losing things is the only way to really gain. I mentioned previously the concept Jesus mentions of new wine needing new wineskins, instead of being put into old skins. Otherwise the wine spills and is lost, and ruined. Perhaps what we hold onto actually hinders us from moving forward, and it's only when we let go of some things that we can actually be ready to receive the new. 


I once heard a bit of information about monkey traps. In tropical countries, in order to capture a monkey, they will put a banana inside some sort of container, with an opening at the top big enough for the monkeys hand to reach inside. The container is obviously anchored to the ground or something to keep it in place. The monkey can easily reach in and grab the banana, but the hole is small enough that the monkey cannot pull his hand back out with the banana still in grip. In order to free his hand, he would have to release the banana, which often the monkey's don't do, therefore making this trap very effective. (So I hear). 


"Whoever seeks to preserve his life will lose it, but whoever loses his life will keep it." -Luke 17:33


Spending time focusing on what we've lost distracts us from recognizing what we've just received room to gain. We can only carry and hold onto so much in this world/lifetime, and honestly we spend quite a bit of time holding onto things, (physical, mental, spiritual), that simply don't matter, and weigh us down. Burdens, toxic relationships, regrets, and other various types of junk that sap the joy out of life. Hopefully on our journeys we're losing what need be let go of, and gaining that which is priceless and precious.

"He is no fool who gives what he cannot keep to gain that which he cannot lose." -Jim Elliott

“If you wish to travel far and fast, travel light. Take off all your envies, jealousies, unforgiveness, selfishness, and fears.” – Glenn Clark

Don't get too comfortable.

It's hard to come across a really good headache these days. With the comfort of chairs and the sleep number beds, the cocoon of peace easily achieved with one's iPod and headphones, not to mention the effortless access to over the counter drugs that can make a person feel euphoric for days on end, a quality headache is just hard to come by. And if you are lucky enough to stumble upon one of these treasures, they're certainly hard to keep, for the same reasons listed above.

Yesterday we were sitting on a train from Innsbruck, Austria (great view of the Alps) to Salzburg, Austria ("The hills are alive..."). It's a two hour train ride, and Alex and I, having gotten a total of 20 hours of sleep in the last 4-5 days, are both looking forward to a little down time to take a quick nap.

Rule #5 when traveling: Sleep when you can. You never know when you might get another chance, or you'll have to wake up before dawn cracks the next morning. When you have a moment to rest and catch a REM cycle, take it. You'll thank me later.

So, we're on the train, and thinking about catching a power nap, if possible. I speculate upon possibility for two reasons. To start, I'm not sure to what I owe such a gift, but I had managed to be the recipient of one of life's top notch headaches. You know the type - it just seems to make everything on the inside feel as though your skull is officially too small for what's inside anymore, and no matter which way you wear your hair or take off your hat or close your eyes, the throbbing only seems to be agitated by your lack of appreciation for it, and plays its rendition of Stomp even louder within your cranium.

So I'm simply trying to sit still and make peace with my headache, appreciating the opportunity to take off my bag, jacket, scarf, and sweatshirt, unlace my shoes a little bit to give my feet some breathing room, and put in my headphones for some delicious tunes.

About 20 minutes into the train ride, a slew of high schoolers boards, and the volume at which a group of teenagers communicates breaks through my "death to headache" cocoon, obviously catching my attention. Pretty soon a pushy gentleman I can only assume is one of the chaperones opens our compartment door (on this train they have those 6-seater compartments, like the ones seen in the Harry Potter movies), and begins yelling at us in German.

Eventually we get him to explain to us, that we are clearly in their reserved seats. 

Rule #6: Do not get too comfortable. You are not at home. This is not your space you are occupying. You will eventually have to get off your train, or you'll be in someone's way and need to move, or getting too comfortable could cause you to push the boundaries of the setting you are in. (Our last Couchsurfing host had some rather strange rules when it came to surfing at his house because of (literally) terrifying previous experiences - most of which I was afraid to ask what horrific circumstances prompted such guidelines).

And that's fine, it's happened before, us being in someone's reserved seat. Some of the trains are well marked when people make reservations, other times it is a vague and unmarked process, and you just sit down, hoping that no one comes along claiming you're in their reserved spot. Not to mention, we appreciate a reservation as much as anyone, so it's perfectly understandable that you want the seat you took the time to secure.

We begin to lace up the shoes, gather up our belongings and bit of food we'd gotten out, and we are now attempting to get out of their way. Except, due to the space these compartments take up, the aisles outside of the compartments really only fit one person. At a time. Sans bags.

Currently we're caught in a stampede of teenagers, heading the opposite direction that we need to go to evacuate the premises of their reserved space, and this guy won't stop yelling at us in German that we're in his compartment.

"Yes sir, I understand this, but given the fact that I have this giant bag upon my back, and you and your kids all have massive suitcases and the 60 of you are taking up this train car and the next two, I'm not exactly sure where you want me to go."

Finally he understands, and the Red Sea of Austrian trains parts. We kindly step out of their way, and proceed to find another compartment with just one woman sleeping in it. We ask her if it's available (wouldn't want to get caught up in another reservation situation), to which she nods, and we sit down and relax once again.

But Rule #6 still applies. Not 15 minutes later, we reach another stop. The middle school version of 15 minutes ago boards the train, and sure enough, we're in someone else's way again.

Oh good, because I was actually starting to get worried that this headache I'd been nursing would abandon me before its prime. ;) Wouldn't that be a shame? :P

So we again pack up our stuff and move, and we're again in some German chaperone's way, except this episode stars a female character. Finally we find two seats that aren't obviously reserved down at the far end of the train, and manage to spend the last hour of the train ride in one spot. Although this time, we remained at the ready. ;)

Pascal said that “Our Nature lies in movement; complete calm is death.”. Even when the movement seems inconvenient, I've found it often leads to beautiful places, that, while unexpected, can be some of the greatest adventures. After all, we still managed to sit down, did we not? And with the combination of the headache and the inconvenience, one is once again reminded that nothing will ever always be as you expected, nor is everything perfection in this lifetime.

Tomorrow is not guaranteed, nor is it guaranteed to look the way you expect it too. Faith requires a certain amount of flexibility, and optimism. We are called to love the world and its people around us, and every new situation, inconvenience, transition, etc, is another opportunity to love Jesus-style in the direction of one more person. Not to mention, if we hold onto the things of this world with a looser grip, we find our pride that keeps us clinging to demanding our own way lessens, and we can find ourselves to be much more peaceful creatures overall. For it is in our pride that we demand to be seen, noticed, validated, vindicated, etc, and to let go of that sets us free into tremendous places of joy. There is nothing someone can take from you if your identity and peace is not rooted in any of the things around you. Mother Theresa spoke of disregarding when life hands you inconveniences or threatens what you've built or your image, for "It was only between you and Him {the Lord} anyway."

Not to mention, travel and movement through this life is meant to teach us to hold onto things loosely, using them as needed but not allowing them to become things that obtain control over us. Part of the innate purpose of traveling is to keep one at the ready. You lose a grip on many of the things you're so accustomed to having and going unquestioned, and you realize that not much in life is guaranteed, despite the illusion of control and predictability we often fall into believing. Things could change at any second, and if you believe as I do in a place where (agape) Love heals all wounds, you know the things of this world are not meant to make us feel at home, quite the opposite, actually.

'I am a visitor here, I am not permanent...' -The Postal Service

Change is the only constant, in this world where an instant can alter one's existence forever. So sleep when you can, roll with the punches, and don't get too comfortable. One day we'll find our way home, but until then...I have all I need, and I'm simply grateful for a good friend, a good book, and a place to sit down.

Oh look, my headache is gone. :) 

“I am so convinced of the advantages of looking at mankind instead of reading about them, and of the bitter effects of staying at home with all the narrow prejudices of an Islander, that I think there should be a law amongst us to set our young men abroad for a term among the few allies our wars have left us.” – Lord Byron

"People are often unreasonable, irrational, and self-centered.  

Forgive them anyway.

If you are kind, people may accuse you of selfish, ulterior motives.  

Be kind anyway.

If you are successful, you will win some unfaithful friends and some genuine enemies.   

Succeed anyway.

If you are honest and sincere people may deceive you.  

Be honest and sincere anyway.

What you spend years creating, others could destroy overnight.  

Create anyway.

If you find serenity and happiness, some may be jealous.  

Be happy anyway.

The good you do today, will often be forgotten.  

Do good anyway.

Give the best you have, and it will never be enough.  

Give your best anyway.

In the final analysis, it is between you and God.  It was never between you and them anyway."

-Mother Teresa

Taking you with me...

We´re currently in Berlin. Norway was fantastic, but pricey. Scandinavia was all around a really great place to visit, and experience, although Alex and I are both glad we´re not experiencing their winter climate: cold and dark, and more dark and more cold. For these two Texans, that just doesn´t sound like an adventure we´re ready to tackle.

The other day we woke up on a train, and spent the rest of the day on 4 other trains, including one surprise ferry. That was interesting. We´re on a train to Hamburg, assuming we can relax and mentally shutdown until 20:00, since we´re scheduled to arrive around 20:16. Except, around 17:40, we notice strange surroundings...

Alex: "Stephanie, I think we have to get off the train.."

Stephanie: "What? No, this isn´t our stop, and it´s too early." (I put my headphones back on, then remove them again.) "Wait, why do you say that?"

Alex: "Because we´re on a ferry."

Stephanie: "Excuse me?!"

We grab our stuff because the conductor is pushing us out the door while mumbling something in German, and sure enough, Ladies and gentlemen, please step off the train for 45 minutes, it´s mandatory ferry time, and this one´s for free!

(You see, folks, the rail pass only covers, well, the rails.) For the ferries we´ve had a discount, but still had to pay a bit of a fee.

Which is why Alex was thrilled to announce...

"Stephanie, we just rail-passed a ferry."

Nice.


Rule #4 when traveling: Pay very close attention when traveling on buses/trains/the metro/trams, etc, especially when the major language used is not one you speak. Even if the ticket/information you´ve received says your stop is the last stop, that´s not guaranteed. Even though you think something should be in a certain place, that doesn´t mean it´s there. And you may just find your train ride involves a ferry, the bus doesn´t actually go to your stop the bus driver assured you it went to, the bus driver may not understand your attempt to communicate the stop and therefore tell you it doesn´t exist, among a number of other travel scenario possibilities. Pay attention, and nap at your own risk. ;) The public transportation will take you wherever it´s going, not necessarily where you need to be, or where you think it should go. 

“Remember what Bilbo used to say: It's a dangerous business, Frodo, going out your door. You step onto the road, and if you don't keep your feet, there's no knowing where you might be swept off to.”
-J.R.R. Tolkien

Let´s reflect for a second. It´s Day 44. We´ve covered (England, Scotland, Wales, Ireland, France, Belgium, Germany, Switzerland, The Netherlands, Finland, Sweden, Norway, and Denmark), 13 countries. WOW. A little over a month left of the backpacking portion of this trip, and in that time we´ll tackle 6 more new countries, plus some other cities in a few more countries we missed the first time around. But more important than the countries we´ve visited and will visit are the experiences we´ve had, especially the people we´ve met.

We are meeting so many incredible people as we travel, literally, we´re averaging about 3 new friends a day. It´s completely exhilerating, even for an introvert like myself. I love to hear their stories, learn what they´re passionate about, and try to listen to and get a brief understanding into how they see the world.

But the bittersweet truth about the way we´re currently doing life is that we are forced to leave every single one of these people behind. Especially some we discover that instant and solid bond with, it´s not easy to say goodbye to them a day or two later, having no guarantee our paths will ever cross again in the future, other than what modern day technology makes possible via email/Facebook.

When you really think about it, there aren´t a whole lot of people we get to take with us in life, physically. We move, they move, careers change, paths diverge, and people part ways from being in each other´s daily lives. After all, this is why things like Facebook were invented, right? So that we might more easily bridge the gap that our divergent paths create between us and those we´ve come to know and love.

Why is life like that? Why are there so few people we really ever get to take with us? If you venture out from where you grew up, you leave people behind, and you meet new people. If you head off to a new place whether for school or job or another reason, you leave that place behind and its people as well, and their paths often call them to different places as well. These are the facts of life.

Maybe that´s why dreams are so appealing, but rarely acted upon: we can mentally explore great places and situations, but to act on them usually requires we leave loved ones behind, (not to mention a life of comfort and predictability, therefore security), sacrificing the blessing and privilege of getting to share in the little but meaningful day-to-day moments.

It requires tremendous amounts of courage to leave such comforts and preditability/security behind. It takes faith in something: that what you´re leaving for is worth leaving for. It requires a dedicated focus on one thing, one aim, one prioritized gain, in order to be able to sacrifice a countless number of other things that could easily keep one from moving/exploring at all. If you´re like me, you hope that when you leave people behind, that it´s not forever.

But courage is only possible where fear was first present, and to let fear have its way means we are sacrificing the possibiliy of dreams moving from 2D to 3D, and those dreams becoming our sweet and blessed existence. I´ve always been of the mindset that dreams are worth chasing, and the most worthwhile people are ok to leave behind sometimes, because the sweetest relationships stick with you, and the important ones leave an everlasting mark upon you. (Most of my closest and dearest friends I´ve been in long distance friendships with at least once in my life, often more than once, and often for decades. But these people continue to make a beautiful and lasting impact upon my life, and the Lord continues to work through and bless such precious relationships. And they don´t get replaced either.)

Bear this in mind, unless we chase after those dreams and go out into the world, on the paths we feel called/directed, we will never be able to make the change in the world that could potentially be made. Leaving and going and moving and meeting new people allows us to make new friends, brothers, sisters, and perhaps do more good in this world than we could have done had we let fear have its way and we stayed put. The ones with whom I have continued to share in fellowship and community across the distance continue to inspire me, and give me strength and wisdom with which to use in the places and contexts I currently reside. They continue to impact my life, despite not being in it on a daily basis.

Every person I meet changes me a little bit. Getting to know something about someone can inspire me in some way, make me reconsider things, challenge me, capitvate me, provide me with some much needed company in a time of need, teach me something about the world and the way they see it, or simply bring some much needed laughter or simply joy in a moment. I´ve picked up new entertaining slang, been challenged to grow and be more open, and been reminded of the type of person I want to be. I´ve been given hope by meeting someone that reminded me there are still incredible people in a world that can often look dark and discouraging, I´ve been taught it is better and good for the soul and the heart to live a generous life, always seeking out the sunshine in people and situations instead of getting caught up in the darkness. I´ve been introduced to new music, learned new skills, jokes, and had the pleasure of finding commonalities in people that were formally strangers, and the beauty in the differences with people from all walks of life. Needless to say, who I am does not go uninfluenced by the people I meet. Everyone has a story to tell, and we´re all looking to be loved. I believe the latter points us back to God and the unconditional (agape) love there, and I believe taking time to listen to the story can only soften the heart and make us into better human beings.

Because what would be the purpose of a journey like this if we didn´t come out the other end changed, hopefully for the better? It would be as if nothing happened, and the time didn´t pass. Hopefully even if we return to the places from whence we came, we do not return exactly to the people we were before we left. Experiences like this, each day, are meant to bring us into better versions of ourselves.

And so despite having to leave most of the people I know behind and rely on the blessing of email and Facebook and the occasional postcard to bridge the gap, I smile at the end of the day knowing I take each of you with me, you people that I love and who have made an impact upon my life.

"And if all else fails, 
you can look up at the sky, 
because it´s the same one 
that shines above you and I..."  
-Matchbook Romance

You know the impact we´ve had on one another connects us, in one way or another. You´ve left a mark on my soul and I on yours, hearts as well. Who we are is/can be shaped by those around us, and therefore we carry a piece of people with as as we continue on our journeys which often take divergent paths.

Life goes on, and may we realize, as we are forced to part ways, that it was the Lord that connected us in the first place, and He connects us still, through the bonds that have developed in our hearts.


"He is before all things, and in Him all things hold together." -Colossians 1:17

"Once in a while it really hits people that they don’t have to experience the world in the way they have been told to.” –Alan Keightlez

What I've learned from the water...

Right now we're in Norway. You know that feeling, when you meet someone new, and within a matter of minutes you just know you're going to get along well with this person? They instantaneously make you feel comfortable and at home. In a place where just looking at the street signs reminds us "you aren't at home," I'd say that's quite a feat in itself. Our host here in Norway is like that, immediately welcoming and his demeanour puts you at ease in his home and his presence.

The majority of our hosting experiences have been exactly this. We are meeting newfound family and dear friends all over the place, in so many different countries. I imagine a reunion trip is in order down the road, simply to come back through and visit all our new cherished friends across Europe.

It's such a privilege to be welcomed into someone's home. They make the country immediately seem less foreign, now with an advocate on your side, and if you're lucky, they often feed you, provide a roof over your head, give you a comfy place to sleep, let you borrow their computer for a moment to 1) check email, 2) make couchsurfing requests, 3) upload pictures, 4) Skype, 5) write a blog post, 6) update your Facebook status, 7) book a ferry/train/flight reservation, etc; and provide you with a personal perspective of the city in which they live, and what life within said city/country looks like.

As I said, currently we're in Norway, and when I last left off, we were in Finland. Time with Beth and Caleb was incredible, a much needed rest from the constant motion of the first month of our travels. We're on Day 38 now, can you believe it? So we left Finland on Monday evening, said goodbye to some of my dearest friends, and rode an overnight ferry from Helsinki to Stockholm.

Side note here: Some of my favourite experiences on this trip, second to the people, are the ferry rides. But it's not simply the ferry, it's the access to the ocean that I'm absolutely weak for. I could sit by the ocean for hours, and I'm not sure exactly what it is about the ocean that I adore so much, except I just like how small I feel next to it. The waters we've sailed have been relatively peaceful, hardly any white-capping. (I have my brother Alex to thank for informing me of this term.) But I could just stand up on deck and look at the waters all day long, listening to the sounds they make, and marvelling at the fact that I can't see land in any direction I look. It's terribly important for the soul, I think, to stop and take notice of how tiny we are compared to things like the oceans and the mountains.

(And this is where I get very Zen...)

I learned in high school that a foot of water, that's a mere 12 inches, can carry a Suburban away from its resting location. (That seems ludicrous to me.) A person can drown in only a few, if not a couple inches of water. In its icy form, water can destroy homes, wreck cars, sink ships, and support tons of weight if thick enough. (Here in Norway, we learned that it's quite common to have barbeque's out on the frozen lakes with your family. A strange concept, to say the least, to this Texan, who is accustomed to triple digit heat and who only sees it snow once every 365 days, roughly.)

Needless to say, water's powerful. And yet, meek. (Meek: adj - showing patience and humility; gentle). It's one of the two greatest metaphors for true and authentic strength, in my opinion, the other being the mountains. When upon the ferry, we're in a massive boat, that being a classic caricature for strength and power. But if the water around us wanted to, it could tear us to pieces. We wouldn't stand a chance, whether by iceberg or torrential waves. If the water wanted to, it could smash us to bits and swallow us up without giving us a chance to protest. Yet, despite all this power it could potentially hold over us, it allows us to float on by gracefully. We come bearing a white flag, hopefully respecting the power the water could hold over us, and as we pass through it seems to find no reason to display just how much power it really has, and just how feeble we really are compared to it. The ocean gently submits to our mass, and simply reconvenes behind us, basically untouched.

The greatest type of strength is like that, isn't it? One learns in martial arts that the greatest fighter finds a way to avoid the physical battle entirely, because the real strength lies in mastering oneself, not in obliterating or defeating another. (Sun Tzu says that the battle is won before the two sides even take their positions on the playing field.) The need to tear someone down to make oneself advance a level is actually a sign of weakness, and the true strength lies in simply knowing one's strength, and having no need to prove it. Like the water, the mountains hold a similar powerful meekness. They simply stand, confident in their power, but rarely needing to make sound or great display to make sure you're taking notice of their power.

There's a lot to be learned from the water and the mountains when it comes to strength and power. Often, those wishing to be seen as powerful and as giants among men like to make a lot of noise. We fall victim to this vice called Pride, whispering that we should be noticed, that people should respect us, that our way is the best way and we should loudly make sure everyone respects our authority. But the true strength of character lies in not having to prove oneself at all, I think. Take Jesus for example, a personal favourite for examples of strength of character. This guy knows that He's God, and yet seems to walk about telling people to keep quiet about Him. Why? I suppose when you know you're the Almighty, you really don't have to prove yourself to anyone. That's the thing about strength isn't it: when you really are strong, and know who you are, you have no need to prove it to anyone. But it is when we doubt that we seek the approval and notice of others.

I'm not sure how much we're changing and growing. I don't know if we're learning who we are, or simply getting the opportunity to listen to other people's lives and perspectives, and it will be later in the reflection and retrospection that we'll notice a great change in who we are and have become. But right now, these days, I feel it's very important to just sit, to listen, to let people be who they are, and to let the situation and day teach me what it has to say. Often it is our expectations of who we think someone should be that causes us to add friction to a situation or interaction anyway. We may not agree with something, it may not be how we would do things, but to have visited 11 countries now, been on the road for 38 days, I'm learning that when we shut up and listen, it doesn't have to mean we agree with it, and it doesn't mean we're going to be changed, corrupted, or become confused by letting the ship of another person's being float gracefully on by. What it means is that we can be exactly who we are and still let them exist as they are, and if we have strength like the ocean, we allow room for that other person to exist, and it doesn't have to change our composition in the slightest.

So to sum up: Stockholm was beautiful - that city just consists of islands, and each one has a personality of its own. We really enjoyed just walking around and taking in the sights. Tonight we're in Norway, hoping to see some fjords tomorrow. Travel is still great, and I think most of what we're learning about is simply how to be who we are, among all these different backdrops, cultures, experiences, etc.

When you get a moment, take a minute to consider the power and strength of water, or the mountains. There's no need to prove ourselves to anyone. So, being secure in who we know we are, let us learn to listen to someone else. Especially those we disagree with on perspective, opinion, lifestyle, etc. Let them have their say without needing to retort, clarify, correct them, or even respond with our thoughts. Because simply by listening we don't lose ourselves in the slightest, but perhaps we can learn what it means to love another.

“Experience, travel – these are as education in themselves” – Euripides

"Education is the ability to listen to anything without losing your patience, (identity), or self-confidence." -Robert Frost

Taco Bell, you have captured my heart.

If you're reading this, you probably know me. And if you know me, you know that there are certain things in life that have captured my heart.

I won't make an exhaustive list here. But one of the things in life that has captured my heart is none other than: Taco Bell.

I kid you not, Reader-That-Isn't-Familiar-With-The-Things-That-Have-Captured-My-Heart. Earlier this year, when the founder of Taco Bell went home, (that's a euphemism for "died"), I had a moment of silence, and my heart endured a heavy thankfulness for this man, Glen W. Bell, Jr. A dear friend even gave me a thoughtful and comforting card, knowing how much Mr Bell's life legacy means to me. When driving around certain parts of Texas, I can tell you which Taco Bell's serve Dr. Pepper, and which ones are solely Pepsi. Did you also know that Taco Bell is the only place you can experience Mountain Dew's Baha Blast? They don't sell it in stores, only at the Taco Bell fountain.

Also, if you've been reading previous blog entries, you've noticed that, on more than one occasion while on this European adventure, I've mentioned having dreams of partaking/almost partaking in Taco Bell. I've come to accept about myself that a love for Taco Bell is not only stomach-based, but appreciation and love for the 48 year old fast-food chain has become founded in my heart and soul as well.

So, needless to say, I was thrilled to discover that towards the end of 2008, Taco Bell opened its doors to the general public in Madrid, Spain. (In 2004 they had opened a store in Spain, but it was on a naval base, and it was only open to those with access to the naval base.) Yum! Brands then announced they would be opening more locations in Spain in early 2009, in order to see how Taco Bell favoured with the European market.

(To answer the unspoken question, of course I sought out this information, Reader. I couldn't not know, and after the dreams became plural, I thought that surely in all of Europe there must be SOME sort of Taco Bell franchise budding...
...Link to Wikipedia below.)

What this means for us, Reader, is that Alex and I will have the great pleasure of partaking in Taco Bell while over here in Europe. It would be hard to overestimate the excitement I'm experiencing at the discovery of this jewel of information.

I am very much looking forward to having a #7, with chicken quesadillas with extra jalapeño sauce, a soft Taco, and (if they have it), a Dr. Pepper to drink. That, right after living like Jesus, is heaven on earth in my books, folks. :)

-S

European Taco Bell - in Madrid, Spain. http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Taco_Bell
Google Maps gave me this address: Calle de la Calderilla, 1, 28054 Madrid, Spain (Taco Bell)

April Fools.

"I'm not afraid of storms, for I'm learning how to sail my ship." -Louisa May Alcott


We've been at this thing for about a month now. Happy travel anniversary to us. :) 
I'm still a bit sick, and so while that's not fun, I'm realizing that even though there may be aspects of this trip that don't live up to or match my expectations, that doesn't mean it's not still growing us, and that doesn't mean that things have gone awry. (Gotta love when you get the opportunity to use the word 'awry'). Truth be told, often our dreams don't turn out exactly as they plan, but I have found, in my experience, that they usually turn out better, more beautiful, and have a much sweeter effect upon the heart and soul if we let them.

Germany was incredible, and we even got to check the "See Switzerland", eat "Swiss Chocolate" and "Visit the Swiss Alps" boxes off. Let me explain: Luisa and her family live in Konstanz, Germany. (They were incredible, by the way. Luisa gets the award for being the world's best personal interpreter. And Luisa's dad gets the tour guide award. This guy's enthusiasm and warm heart certainly made the sight-seeing over the top enjoyable, entertaining, and educational.) Konstanz is so far south in Germany that you can literally see the Swiss Alps from their backyard. (As Nick would say, that's quality.) So while in Germany we rode the Autobahn, saw an Audi shop, took a ride across the border to go up the Swiss Alps, and enjoyed the hospitality of a legitimate German family. Success!

We've reached a bit of a rhythm in our travels. In each country, we set up base, and then explore with whomever we're with. We make great friends, experience the food, the culture, days in the life, and then when our time in that country is up, we get things in motion for the travel days that bookmark the culture/exploration days. These travel days tend to really suck the life out of us - although it's always great to arrive at the next place, the new country, awaiting the next adventure. This morning - awake at 4:00, leave the house at 4:30. Our first train leaves at 5:00. We meet up with our second train at 7:18. We catch our third train at 8:30. At 9:18 we're walking to a bus stop in Mainz/Frankfurt, Germany, looking for the bus that will take us to the airport an hour away from the main part of town where our flight upon RyanAir leaves to take us to Tampere, Finland. (That's right - we had our first RyanAir experience today too - but I'll get to that in a moment.) But in the process of trying to find our bus stop and ask directions, we supposedly miss our shuttle that was supposed to leave at 9:30. But not to worry, our flight doesn't leave until nearly 13:00, we'll make it in time. 

Or...

..the next shuttle leaves at 11:40, and arrives at the airport right at 12:55, exactly when our flight should be racing down the runway pulling away from land and lifting those wheels up. Hmmm...

But a nice German fellow said, "Not to worry, I just called, the shuttle be here in two minutes." (Yay thanks, friend.)

Except, 17 minutes later, we're trying not to grow too concerned at the lack of a shuttle, and our new friend is nowhere to be found.

It's ok, we can take a taxi.

"Of course, taxi driver, all three of both of our first born children you can have...yes, and my right arm....whatever it takes so that we don't miss our flight. Scheiße."

(I kept hoping he'd be in the celebratory spirit and throw out an April Fools somewhere. No such luck.)

But we made our flight, and that brings me to RyanAir. The recommendations were right, it is cheap, but you go over that 15 kg limit on your checked bag, and they'll charge you 20 EUROS per KILOGRAM. Good thing mine was only over by a kilogram, and Alex's was under by a kilogram. Therefore, some minimal shifting allowed me to save any children after #3 that I may have in my lifetime, and my left arm, and avoid any further unnecessary, excessive spending. (All part of the experience/adventure, 'eh?) 

(By the way, did you know that when traveling overseas, people first ask if we are Canadian, instead of American? This seems to be a common theme. Apparently, Canadians get offended if someone assume's they're American. I had no idea.)

But aside from RyanAir making their real money by charging you for all the little things, it was quite a comfortable and enjoyable flight. They even arrived 20 minutes early to our destination, which they celebrated by playing joyous calvary-style music over the loudspeaker, and then announcing their record for being on time 90% of the time last year - and the most on time flight company in all of Europe. Let's all give RyanAir a big round of applause...

(Not to mention, it snowed on us as we were leaving Frankfurt - and this Texan will always think snowfall is beautiful! It really is all about taking pleasure in the simple things.)

Now in Finland, with two of my favourite people. Looking forward to a relaxing and nourishing Easter weekend. Finland is beautiful, there's snow on the ground, but even if the scenery wasn't picturesque...brutal travel days, ongoing sickness, and excessive prices are all worthwhile when we have the blessing of fantastic company in each of the countries we've visited so far. I am growing more and more convinced that it is people that make the places what they are - beautiful, welcoming, captivating, and something a person can call home.

“Our battered suitcases were piled on the sidewalk again; we had longer ways to go. But no matter, the road is life.” –Jack Kerouac