using my inside voice

Day 3 - Traveling in Relative Discomfort

North American Travel | June 3, 2009

So, as it turns out, the hardest thing about leaving a city after 3 years of calling it home isn't packing up and shipping your belongings home, selling a house full of furniture, or cleaning the apartment for a safe security deposit return. No, it isn't any of these things. In actuality, the hardest thing about leaving is saying goodbye to all the friends you've made. I've left lots of places before, and called quite a few towns home, but most of my leaving has been in Australia, where I know I'll be back again. In contrast, I will likely never live in Vancouver or Canada again, and therefore, I will never be able to hang out with my Vancity friends in the same way. This realisation didn't hit home until about 7pm on my first night in Seattle, and when it did hit, it hit hard.

I have made all my friends sign binding contracts to come and visit me in Australia once this 8-month mammoth is complete, so while the visits may not be as frequent, I'd like to think they will still be there.

So, onto the 8-month mammoth I suppose. Here is a breakdown of some interesting events from the past 3 days.

1. The hydraulic lift for admitting wheelchair passengers onto the bus broke down on the Seattle to Portland trip. The poor woman who needed to get on had to sit and wait while they figured out how to manually operate the lift, and also watch a whole bunch of passengers wait too. After an hour to get her in, and 30 minutes to get her out, we made a 4.5 hour trip to Seattle (already quite long) into a 6-hour trip.
2. Someone died in our hotel on the first night of our trip... can you believe it? I'm hoping it's not an omen of any sort.
3. There was a convicted felon sitting behind us on the trip from Seattle to Portland. As we're driving through Longview I take my earphones out for the first time and hear, "They extradited me to Longview prison because where I was staying got too full"... wish I'd kept listening to my iPod. I think I might get some sort of slash-proof neck guard to wear on the Greyhound. There could be a market there actually!
4. There's a heatwave in Portland. After wandering down the street to check out the Hawthorne neighbourhood where we're staying, and picking up some groceries, I checked The Weather Network, because it sure felt darn hot out there... It's 32 degrees folks. I might as well be in Mexico. Unfortunately Portland is lacking in pristine beaches.

Tomorrow morning we're off to explore the city. I want to do a walking tour, but Luke doesn't. Given that one of their selling points is "no hills, no steps" maybe we should give it a miss. I guess it's designed for less active visitors, and really, who wants to be seen with a group of beige-pant wearing, bum-bag toting tourists? Not me. I already got asked about the bus timetable today and I was wearing my giant backpack!

More soon...

At 1.5 weeks the increments decrease (or is it increase?)

Travel | May 21, 2009

Should I be counting in days now? If so, then that would be 11 days, sir.

11 days, 11 sleeps, 11 morning coffees, 11 dinners and lunches, 11 bottles of wine (maybe more actually...!)

It's strange, that after so long in one place you would choose an arbitrary date, literally out of thin air, to pack up your life and leave. Of course, there was some logic involved (like attempting to undertake 8 months travel entirely in the summer months of the countries we're visiting) but there is also a fair amount of randomness and general gut feeling that lead to a decision like this.

I don't know if it's just me, or if everyone experiences the feeling I'm referring to. It's almost like ants crawling on your feet as you unsuspecingly enjoy a garden party in June. You suddenly feel a little twinge, a small annoyance, that makes you start thinking strange thoughts about life, and what exactly you are doing with it. Then the feeling grows a little stronger, as more ants realise the bounty that is your foot, and suddenly you're thinking about all the things you've wanted to do for so long that you've put off because of work or other commitments. By now there are about 10 ants per foot, and you are starting to sub-consciously wonder if looking down to see what's going on might be a good idea. You vaguely suggest to yourself, or to your significant other, that it could be interesting to try something different, that you miss home, that you want to fulfill those traveling dreams that have been lingering for so long. Then it really starts to itch and become irritating. You look down and see the playground the ants have made of your feet and realise that unless you do something soon you are going to get bitten. So that's it, you have no choice, you swipe. You make a huge, life-altering decision to pack your bags at a set date in the not-too-distant future and get out of there.

And then it's done.

It's strange how just saying something out loud can make it real. How telling someone a date that you're leaving the country suddenly makes all sorts of plans fall into place of their own volition. But, nothing seems entirely real until you start selling your possessions, packing your bags, and throwing things into the big wheelie bin of life (too corny?)

That's what I've been doing this weekend, and will continue to do through until at least next Tuesday. After that our shipment is being collected and we'll have hopefully sold most of our things. Now it's feeling real, as the pile of boxes mounts on the living room floor, and the shelves and mantle become bare. As we eat our way through the entire pantry, and clean our apartment to within an inch of its life to ensure the safe return of our security deposit.

11 days.

2 weeks to deconstruct my life

Lifestyle & Culture | May 15, 2009

After a gloriously wine-soaked weekend in the Okanagan, it was back to Vancouver to pimp out my worldly possessions, permanently.

Does anyone need a fab 3-seater, retro couch? If so, apply within. That, and almost every piece of furniture from my apartment has made its way into cyberspace to find a new home. So far I've only sold my desk ($15 big ones coming my way) but I have high hopes that soon all the rest will make its way to bigger and better things.

With this one small piece of furniture missing from the apartment, I am starkly reminded each day that the transition to a new life is but days away. My half-packed backpack and closet full of clean clothes all ready for packing up, are emitting an almost palpable vibe. They are haunting me with an insistent call of freedom.

So, the checklist of things to organise before leaving Vancouver gets shorter as I make my way through each day. But, for now, and for this weekend, apart from selling anything that wishes to be purchased by second-hand seekers, the main thing on the agenda will be visiting with friends. Literally every night this long weekend sees me at one gathering or another.

It begins tonight with some amazing Okanagan and Australian wine, Rebar hummus and salad, and of course wonderful friends to share it all with. What an incredible start to the weekend!

The final full-time workday blues

Lifestyle & Culture | May 10, 2009

Hmmmm... what a conundrum. Who would have thought that you'd wake up on your last day of full-time work and feel melancholy? Alas, that was the case this morning when I tumbled out of bed, bleary-eyed and sleepy.

I think the anticipation of finally finishing up work has almost been too much, in that, of late, it's actually been keeping me awake at night and sending my dreams spiraling into strange places. So, there I was at work all day feeling a bit off and somewhat strange and not at all as excited as I thought I should be.

A few things did alleviate the ambivalence, starting with a celebratory last-day latte from my best buddy and office-mate. You can't complain about that right?

The 1.5 hour meeting at 9.30am didn't help much, but soon after plans were made for a sushi lunch to celebrate the final full-time day.

3 sushi rolls and a bloated tummy later I was back at my computer contemplating a vending-machine chocolate. Of course there were upsides and downsides to that plan. The upside being the chocolatey goodness and hedonistic pleasure of the treat as it melted on my tongue. The downside was that while my mood was lifted momentarily, the sugar high was destined to come crashing down around 2.30pm. And it did.

Now, I'm sure you must wonder how with all this thinking, musing and general over-analyzing I got any work done - me too - but I did. Multi-tasking while high on wasabi and caffeine is the ultimate in office culture. Combine moderately healthy take out with sugary caffeinated candy and the work verily rolls of the finger tips and into MS Word. It's quite the phenomenon; that filling a human body with inadequate fuels plus a stimulate of some sort can keep employees chugging through work on a daily basis, the world over.

But, I digress. So, it rolls around to 3pm and I'm waiting and hoping the delirious happiness I expected comes crashing down on me at some time in the next 1.5 hours. Alas, the time passed and I was left at my desk simply watching the minutes tick past.

Maybe once I pack for my weekend in the Okanagan things will perk up? Maybe when I sit down to a glass of wine and Thai Curry for dinner I will feel release? Maybe when the sun comes out tomorrow I'll feel some sense of freedom and ecstasy?

Logically I know I'm happy that things are coming to an end and that I will be moving on. But it's also tinged with sadness, leaving behind all the people and places that have become so dear over the past 3 years. I suppose I never anticipated this, being focused solely on the end goal of being at one with my backpack and traipsing from place to place. As the first in a series of familiar daily occurrences that will not only come to an end, but may likely never happen again, I went in unprepared for the real impact of today. So, I finish up full-time work with unexpected sadness, leaving behind some wonderful colleagues, some not-so-wonderful colleagues, and a special few who made the transition from colleague to friend.

An ode to the road

Travel | May 6, 2009

Bright sky, sunlight slashing through gathered clouds

Orange light baking scenes that shift and change

Road passing by, moments after moment is new

Excitement of what's around the bend feeds my hunger

Daylight leaving behind an evening of faded hues

4 weeks and only a swine in my way!

Travel | May 5, 2009

• 2 full-time workdays left
• 5 part-time workdays left (that's 7 workdays altogether for those that struggle with mathematics)
• 4 weeks left in Vancouver
• 1 Okanagan weekend getaway
• 12 social events (and counting)
• 1 apartment of furniture to sell
• 1 bag to pack
• 1 party to throw
• 1 greyhound bus to catch

So many things to count down! So many things to do, but it all seems to be falling into place. I sure do like lists though, and I sure like counting down as well. Isn't anticipation half the fun? Hmmmmmm, actually, if the anticipation is half the fun I'm going to be really annoyed. Hopefully the anticipation I'm feeling is only 1/4 or 1/8 of the fun. I expect this trip to be seriously fun (and challenging too, I know all that, you don't have to remind me that some parts of traveling are exceedingly tedious, painful, and downright annoying).

There is only one small dampener on my pending adventure and it all started out with a chicken and a pig. Damn those beasts and their intertwining flu strains! They are thwarting my impending fun and I'm not happy about it, not at all.

However, I am choosing to remain naively optimistic about the whole thing, hoping it will blow over in a month or so. We won't be in Mexico until August, so I've got loads of time right? Although, my boss (who doesn't want me to leave) enjoyed informing me that the 1918 Spanish Flu pandemic lay dormant for a few months before killing anywhere in the vicinity of 70-100 million people just a little too much. It was just his way of trying to get me to stay in the country, but still! I will not be deterred. If this flu thing really kicks in I will take my adventures elsewhere.

5 weeks to go

North American Travel | April 28, 2009

Here is a list I previously published when I thought I only had 5 weeks left in Vancouver. These are all the things I wanted to do before I left. Two years later, there are no two ways about it. I really do only have 5 weeks to go. It will therefore be my mission to accomplish all these activities before I leave:

1. Walking to the Granville Island Markets on a sunny (or even not so sunny) morning and having coffee and a bagel with cream cheese out on the wharf/deck, looking out at the city skyline, over at the Burrard Bridge and further out to the snow-capped mountains.
2. Going to JJ Bean's House of Coffee on Commercial Drive for one of their declicious muffins and a latte.
3. Sitting in Wicked Cafe analysing life, the universe and everything, arriving at 42, giving up and just relaxing and taking in the atmosphere and Arthur's most declicious Lattes.
4. Walking into the city across the Granville Island Bridge, feeling a little dizzy with the height and the cars whizzing past, and possibly even spotting a seal in the waters below.
5. Riding my bike to Kitsilano and along the ocean-front bike path, then stopping for a snack of some sort on the way back.
6. Taking a picnic to the park at Kitsilano - it has to be a REALLY hot day to do this (well, by Vancouver standards anyway, I'm talking 22-25deg), opening a bottle of white wine and whiling away the afternoon.
7. Riding my bike around the Stanley Park seawall and along English Bay, again on a warm day, then all the way back home again. You feel SO incredibly great after that ride.
8. Napping on my couch in the afternoon.
9. Going for a burger and bottle of wine at Barney's.
10. Going up to the local mountains to snowboard, or even to Whistler for a day if you feel like getting up at 5am. It's so incredible being able to carve up the slopes so close to home without having to work at the ski fields.

I'll have to strike 10 and say I already did it - I had my last snowboarding day at Whistler 4 weeks ago - but the other 9 are totally doable in these last 5 weeks. I think I will formulate a plan for my first day off. It will go a little something like this: Ride my bike to Commercial Drive, have a muffin and coffee while reading a book, ride back to Kitsilano along the ocean-front path, head home and have an afternoon nap, go to Caffe Barney for dinner and wine. Sounds like a good day doesn't it? That takes care of 2, 5, 8 and 9. Only five more to go after that, and I'm sure it will be a total drag getting through them :)