Some mug shots before we go. I have packed and repacked. It’s approaching 25lbs plus about 4-5lb spread in the front. Mind you, we are not going backpacking, just moving from one mode of transportation to another, hotel to boat to trains, we got it all coming. It’s a tolerable weight in a well balanced women’s EJA Osprey pack. I am guessing maximum walk would be a mile or two but I doubt it’ll be the same in SE Asia than EU.
Comfortable shoes…that’s been the next scramble since we’ve been back in SLC. These are my beach shoes, I have another pair plus my sturdy Merrell hiker sandals. Some TeVA mush flip flops for pool and shower. We have bought more shoes for CW and finally narrowed it down to a Merrell hiker sandal and a ALTRA Women’s Lone Peak 6 Trail Running Shoe. Both excellent light weight but sturdy options. She also has a beach shoe and flip flop.
We now settle down after our flurry of buying and returning sprees. Our itinerary sounds so enticing. So much off the beaten path and such a unique experience to travel in a loosely structured humanitarian based tour. Home stays and cooking classes. Temples and buddhas. History and civilization, life at its core. A painful past that is just that, past, don’t we all got it. Never judge, work hard and always smile! Be thankful for each day. Live it like it’s your last.
So me and my back pack will become close friends. I will grow stronger by the day and maybe shed a few lbs equal to my new load. 🤣🤗😮💨. All shots are in arms and we have our 90 days of malaria pills. The travel clinic suggested it. Enjoying the last load of laundry in wash and dry mode. What a lazy society and so lucky. Heading out for Seattle Monday for a quick early flight out the next day. Fly to S Korea and then 5hr flight to Ho Chi Minh. Enjoy the pics and posts coming.
Here I am again, sitting here turning my wildest dreams into a reality on a black sand beach on the Mediterranean Sea. The warm waters and calm surf are perfect for bobbing and swimming. This island is so MUCH better than anyplace we’ve been so far this year.
The people are genuinely friendly. English is commonly spoken as well as Turkish and Greek. Americans are few and far between maybe because so many of us live in the bubble of propaganda and have never taken a chance to travel. Like really travel. We were afraid too.
Up until a month ago, while visiting Montenegro, I had never considered Cyprus, but more proper, The Turkish Republic of Northern Cyprus or TRNC. Now we’ve bought a garden apartment with a walk-out pool in a complex that will terrace its way up the hill in typical domino stacks of bright white buildings spilling into the sea.
It’s somewhat like Portugal’s Algarve coast, Croatia or Montenegro’s coastline but without the crowds. It’s a beautiful vista backset against the verdant green slopes of the mountains rising up from the sea. Albeit with much less of a dramatic gain in heights and angle.
This is a burgeoning area bringing itself and its people together to make a future. It’s easy going and pretty laid back. Food is incredible, even though french fries is a food group here. There is a good solid infrastructure and new hospitals. There’s an International University here, at least one I know of. We have actually used the medical system here twice this month.
Gas, food and lodging are pretty low priced and of excellent quality. Wine and beer are cheaper than a bottle of water here. Even the WiFi is incredibly fast. Cost of living is cheap and the Island checks off most of our boxes for a possible home base or investment for the future. One other plus, compared to the EU, people here tend to smoke less.
So back to the beach…the one thing the US has on every beach in the world we’ve been to is the desire to keep the country clean. Beaches, parking lots, natural environments. I love to look for beach glass, stones and trinkets. Seems no matter where I go I can pick up a half melted price of hard plastic waste that looks like a stone. There’s bits and pieces of various plastics and cans and a mountain of cigarette butts. And still, it’s too bad that this is “not too bad.”
The sun is warm today, we’ve had two days of rain, wind and heavy surf and the sea is calm and inviting. The warm water surrounds you in a warm watery blanket. Bobbing up and down like a bottle on the sea with a secret letter inside. Cares just drift away as the rhythm of the waves take over all sound. You melt into the calm.
The definitive line between horizon and sky is more like the edge of a mirror, reflecting sea onto sky. A few ghostly clouds from the storms, hang far-off on the horizon. The sea claps again breaking my stare.
I am sitting on Red Beach as I have been doing everyday for this last week. Some days the sea laps calmly at the pebble beach, other days it has full on breakers causing the rocky beach to tumble into the sea as the wave recedes. The rolling sound of rocks in water has been a favorite of mine since moving to Utah 30+ years ago although rolling rocks in water are from rivers in Utah.
I look out over the expanse of calm blue water, shimmering in the sun like diamonds in a jewelers light. Heads bob up and down with a few diehard swimmers covering the shoreline as far as you can see. There’s no sand castles to be built on this beach, better for piling rock cairns or separating the colors for more artistic endeavors. Daredevils climb the limestone rocks several meters from shore and do cannon balls to the delight of their friends. Sunbathers lie half naked on the pebbles or spend a few euros for a sun bed and are waited on by the cute bar tender, John, who slinks across rocky surface like a sure footed lizard, balancing his tray full of drinks. The air is thick with the smell of the salty, ion filled breezes, wafting off the sea. For today, this is my home.
We have spent the last 2 1/2 weeks on the shore. Each town has its colored pebble beaches, a few sandier beaches spread around, but more the exception than the rule. The water is warm and refreshing and clear as glass. Small colored fish swim in the depths and appear to be only a few inches from the surface, but in fact, are 3-4 meters down. The water itself is incredible salty, allowing you to literally sit in the water, head above and hands and feet quietly floating. I’ve been told by locals that this sea has healing minerals and some declare they are now cured of their aches and pains just from swimming. All I know is it has been good for relaxation, afternoon naps and loosening up achy backs from sleeping on poor mattresses. There’s a lulling found in the gentle lapping sound of the waves.
Seashore towns are perched on the rocky shorelines like a perfect game of dominos, each with its share of hundreds of ancient stone stairways going straight up from the nearest switchback cut out for streets.
Tomorrow we pack up our stuff once more to migrate deeper into Montenegro and the “black mountains” as its name translates. There are a total of 5 National Parks in Montenegro and we will hit at least 3 while we are here. The mountains are 1500-2000 meters high and rise abruptly from the seashores. Montenegro is not devoid of seasons. The leaves are beginning to show colors of red, gold and yellow. The mountains are not exempt from a good snow fall come late fall and winter. There are ski resorts and outside activities such as hunting, fishing, and tons of snow sports. The towns fall into a sort of slumber after being drunk with tourists all summer. The sun hangs low in the sky, the pace slows, the heat dissipates, the sea grows cold, and the nights grow long. Wood is collected to heat the homes in the mountains and the sea-shore dwellers, make necessary repairs and ready their homes for the next surge of visitors come Spring.
Just for today… May I revel in the innocence of my inner child May I look at the world with wonder and amazement May I summit every obstacle with the ease of a trained athlete May a calm mind and steady determination bring me and those around me joy May I always remember to be kind in my actions and words Just for today…
It’s sometimes hard to slow down and take time to organize my thoughts. We have now been on the road for almost 4 months, not including our 2 years of vanlife. We have visited Ireland, Scotland, Portugal mainland from Sintra to the Algarve Coast, Madeira Island, San Miguel Island in the Azores, Germany, Austria and Spain. We are currently on our way to wrap up our Schengen EU Visa in Dubrovnik, Croatia. From there moving down into Montenegro for at least a month, which used to be Yugoslavia until 1991. From there who knows where?
São Miguel , Portugal
It sometimes feels like we’ve been gone for so long, and at times I want it to just stop and go “home”, but where is that? My heart is filled with gladness, my mind filled with curiosity. There is just so much of the world to explore. I must admit, at times, we have to pass up some countries we’d love to explore due to many different reasons, both political and uneasy feelings about traveling there as two women. We are playing it on the side of caution when if we were younger, we might throw that same caution to the wind.
Does that mean that we are older and wiser? Life is more precious? Probably…
In the last 2 years, we have been taught a lesson in the value of living life as if it were your last day on earth. I tear up just thinking of family members lost too soon and those that lived out their lives to the fullest and just came to the end of life’s road, including my grandmother and our faithful corgi, Gandaulf. It is part of our motivation to do all we can while we are healthy and able to.
Another motivating force is the all encompassing world of climate change. Since we’ve been retired and living in the world as nomads, living with and off the land around us, we have seen the changes first hand. Coastal flooding, unbearable heat and harsh winters. Storms off the charts. It seems that every year we are breaking records of all types, rain, heat, hurricanes, snowfall, wild fires, ocean temps rising, and drought, to name a few. Perhaps it is the way the earth is trying to wipe us off like a festering tick sucking the life blood out of her? It is everywhere and my heart is saddened to think it may be too late to reverse. Perhaps it is just the way it is going to be and we all will pay dearly in the end. In the meantime, here we are off on another adventure to see all we can before it is gone. We are doing all we can to reduce our carbon footprint, but we are just a minuscule part.
Since the 26th of July, Chris and I have been house and pet sitting in Yator, Granada, Spain. It’s a sleepy little town with only one tiny cafe on the main street. The town is in an area called Camino Montenegro.
We agreed to do a pet/house sit for a German expat who owns a little farm up on the mountain outside of Yator. It’s a tiered farm with several raised gardens of all the normal vegetables, fruit trees, including pomegranate, apple, cherry, lime and figs. There’s a patch of just tomato plants and a vine garden of peas, beans, assorted squash, melons and cucumbers. There is also 30 or more olive trees, heavy with fruit, and two large Spanish Almond trees full of nuts.
Each morning we water all the trees and gardens, by hand, plus the ornamental plants on all three levels. In the cool morning air, hangs the scent of honeysuckle from the numerous honeysuckle vines covering the red dirt. Growing wild throughout the property are the herbs, rosemary and oregano, and the raised gardens have basil, parsley and chives. Basically, we have all the food we could ever need or want from the land. Watering of all these delicacys is done by gravity fed hoses at several stations throughout the property and takes about and hour and a half with both of us watering.
The water we drink comes from a spring located even further up the hill and 3 times a week we must turn on the feed to fill the water tank with fresh spring water. The tank is about 14 feet square by 14 feet deep. With the watering, showers and daily consumption, we take the tank down about 2 feet a day. The water is cold and clear and tastes delicious without the chemical additives in normal tap water.
One thing that has always been hard for us, since we’ve been in the road, has been getting vegetables into our diet. They are bulky and took up a lot of room when we lived in the van, and traveling around Europe for the last 3+ months, we’ve been at the mercy of the restaurants to get our veggies. Mostly we get potatoes or something that resembles squash, always over cooked or fried, and never fresh.
For the last 3 weeks, we have been eating fresh from the gardens, trying out new roasted veggies, beets, carrots and leeks. We’ve been making home-made salsa from the tomatoes we grow and the purchase of peppers and onions from women set up on street corners, selling the excess from their gardens, harvested that same day. Cooking meats with the herbs we grow and making delicious side dishes with the variety of squashes we grow. We’ve been making fresh salads with the lettuce, carrots and cucumbers we grow. It is very rewarding.
It is such a huge thing to know where our food is coming from, how fresh it is, that it is grown without chemicals and picked by our own hands. There’s something to be said for that, which never really crossed my mind until now.
Do you know where your food comes from? There are horrifying documentaries on how our food is grown, the process and effect of GMOs, fertilizers and other chemicals used to produce bigger yields and to keep the pests away. The impact we are having on the land, water and our bodies. I guess it took us slowing down here, putting in the effort and love it takes growing our own truly organic food, and being enlightened by these documentaries, to really understand and come to value this little humble farm.
Our next few months will be spent in Montenegro and perhaps Bosnia, both countries pride themselves on their clean food, clean air and clean water. I hope that we have learned a lesson and will begin to appreciate locally sourced food, grown with love, sweat and clean practices. Perhaps our carbon footprint will get even smaller which for us, is something we are proud of.
We emerged from our guesthouse and onto a very narrow street with many streets running off in all directions. For the directionally challenged, this could be a house of mirrors. The sound of music and people chatter fill the air in quiet whispers carried on the breezes.
The streets are bits and pieces of cobbled stones, smoothed from the ages. Built on a hill, Lisbon is a challenge to get around but there are trolleys running up and down the streets. Side alleyways with hundreds of stairs are shortcuts around the maze. This medieval town boosts narrow streets that two people with outstretched arms, could touch wall to wall. Not built for cars but these juggernauts play dodge with the trolleys all day and night.
The side walks are also small white rock chips with stone curbs. The walker shares these with telephone poles, mailboxes and other people. I’ve seen a few brave souls on bikes ferrying their way through the back alley cafes and complicated streets.
Looking up and down each street intersection, one can see squaller and grand castles and churches. Graffiti liters the walls. Clothes hang outside on wires strung high above the streets to save on the cost of electricity. It doesn’t have the overwhelming stench of diesel fumes as in other European cities we’ve just come from.
Our room is in a guesthouse with different common rooms for sitting and cooking. Our room has an interesting arched room, which is left to the imagination of its use or significance. We have hot water for showers, air conditioning for a comfortable night sleep and a comfy queen bed. It’s simple but affords us all we need to sleep, shower and dress. I think this is gonna be a fun city to explore with its sidewalk cafes and little haunts with music and laughter pouring from the doorways and down long hallways.
We set out from Utah over a month ago. We said our farewells and hopped on a plane, one carry-on sized roller bag each, one shared large backpack, and a small carry-on pack each. All our worldly possessions in those bags. It was a bittersweet parting, but the world has become our oyster, and we plan to explore it for a few years. Our goal is to find somewhere we can settle down for a while, but never long enough for the grass to grow under our feet.
Our first stop was Ireland, an incredibly enchanting isle, full of wonderful food, drink, music and genuinely kind people. The scenery was jaw dropping gorgeous, the roads narrow and windy. We rented a camper van from Indie Campers out of Dublin…once a van lifer it’s so hard to break away from the freedom it affords. Our challenge…driving on the left side of the road, in a right hand drive stick shift.
I, being the navigator, was also reminding Chris to turn left stay left and turn right stay left as well. I’d say that after 5 days, she developed the muscle memory it takes to take on manning the controls on her own. For the next few weeks I still had my place not only getting us were we needed to be safely, I gradually returned the turn signals to her. She did splendidly, even coming to complete stops when a large truck or bus was barreling down on us. Next came the round-about or traffic circle. There were normally 3 to 5 exists out of each one it was just picking what one would take you where you needed to go. Mostly we had GPS to tell us where to go. I would sit with my arm out like a compass needle pointing our way through each and operating the turn signal as Chris shifted. What a team we made!
I think what I loved the most about this fine country, was the architecture and the accompanying tales of the families over hundreds of years. Some buildings were built as far back as 1200. Tales of Vikings, Norse, Kings, and many other European invaders and religious conquests.
Political and religious history all incredibly fascinating, and standing in front of you was the building that saw all this history and still stood tall. Generations upon generations of land ownership and the hard work it took to eek out a living. Stories of whole villages wiped out by famine, war or plague. The flight of millions across uncharted waters to the New World of America. Strong and proud people.
Scotland was our next stop. We had made no plans except to rent another van and see where it took us. After the first few days in Ireland, we were in a bit of a panic about driving for another two weeks. Our initial plan was to drive the 515 +/- miles around the North Coast 500. It is a windy, mostly single track, paved road that hugged the north west coast all the way to the most northern tip of Scotland and back down the north east coast. We had seen pictures of the roads, but it was the scenery that was the biggest pull.
When we picked up the van we were thoroughly convinced that we didn’t have the driving skills, or perhaps courage, to take it on, so we began to make other plans. We made our way to Inverness, the start of the NC500 and booked a pitch at a wonderful campground. It was here that an older British man in a camper asked us if we were going to drive the NC500? I stood there as he explained the beauty and the chance to see huge cliffs and mountains. He was so convincing that we could do it, we had to give it a go.
The North Coast 500 started out as a big 4 lane road that meandered through bright yellow fields of grape seed farms, shaggy cows and fields of sheep grazing on the intensely green fields. The first real choice is whether to drive clockwise or anti-clockwise. We chose to do it clockwise so we could get a little more time driving under our belt before we tackled the 12-15% grades on the most northern end. This proved to be a wise move since most do it anti-clockwise. The roads quickly became narrow with a soft side, if at all. We were happy that the Scots weren’t as rock wall happy as the Irish and we didn’t feel that we’d take out the side of the van.
Passing became a common occurrence. It was quite simple really. One vehicle coming would pull off in a ‘passing place’ and flash their lights signaling to the oncoming driver to pass as they waited. This meant that you not only needed to pay attention to the road, but also look further ahead, sometimes a mile. The worst was the big truck, of which we didn’t pass many the first few days. They owned the roads and would rarely even slow down when passing and hardly ever stopped for you to pass. The tour buses as well would take their half out of the middle and some. We found both quite rude. There was one road right off that cautioned campers not to use it and an alternate route, 17 miles out of the way, was recommended. We sided on caution and the drive was spectacular. At the end of everyday of driving tho, Chris was spent. A cold beer was always waiting in the fridge.
Wild camping is allowed in Scotland. There are only a few rules. Don’t block and entrance or road, don’t park in a passing place and mind private property. We didn’t make any reservations hoping we could access some of these wild camping areas. We passed by several lovely pull offs that other campers had chosen but never did wild camp. Mainly because we didn’t want to use the toilet in the van to do anything but pee. The second reason was the fridge in the van ran off the batteries if not plugged in. Our van we built had solar so wild camping for weeks was not an issue. Here tho, if the fridge drew down the battery, there was no AAA or roadside assistance that could bail you out. Established campgrounds cost between €\£ 24-38 a night and all had running water and electric hook ups. This gave us peace-of-mind but also an added expense we didn’t plan on. So be it…from that first night on we made reservations.
We gave ourselves 9 days to do the whole route. By the time we reached Ullapool on the middle west coast however, the roads were getting steeper and the traffic heavier. We chose to head an hour and a half, which really meant 2-3 hours and set out across the middle to Golspie. From there we headed up to the north anti-clockwise, to John O’Groats and Dunnet Bay for a 2 night stay. The huge cliffs were a rookery for seabirds and wind swept green grasses grew right up to the tops, creating an incredibly stark contrast. We camped at Dunnet Bay right at the edge of the sea and nestled in the grass covered dunes. The next morning we set off for the Northern most part of Scotland for an obligatory photo shoot by the John ‘O Groats pole, then headed back down to Inverness and back across to Edinburgh.
The next morning we turned in the van for good. After driving in Ireland and Scotland for a month, it is time to move on to our next stop. Portugal!
Today, we close the circle. Our travels through Ireland will conclude in 24 hours from now. Still, to this day, I’m not over the beauty. The thousands of shades of green. The incredible rich, vibrant colors of all the many flowers blooming as far as the eye can see. The hundreds of castles, churches and abbeys, holding the past inside their rocky, vine covered walls, like ancient time capsules. The bright smiles and chipper hellos from locals and travelers alike. The numerous small towns with their brightly painted buildings and historic pubs. I doubt that the memories will fade anytime soon.
I think the most interesting was hearing stories of the struggles of the proud, hard working Irish. The stories of sorrow and triumph. The strong, proud individuals that tried to make a difference for their countrymen in the time of need. The big men and women with large hands and kind hearts. The thick accents that change slightly as we traveled from county to county.
There were many times that I would be listening to our driver and I could envision the people he was talking about laughing and a dozen small children running around underfoot. The homes and land passed down through generations upon generations. The miles and miles of rock walls, the sheep dotting the green hillsides in white and pastel colors, splashed upon their backs showing ownership. The border collies running after them. Life, so simple and so hard.
When we started planning this journey we really had no idea of what we were setting ourselves up for. We’ve never driven a right hand drive stick shift on the left side of the road, first of all. Secondly, we’ve never driven an “over-sized rig” on narrow roads. So perhaps we can save you some scary unknowns.
I’ll first start off with the advice we were given by a local bus driver…hug the white line. That means claim your space. The white line is the middle line, hugging it means your left hand side mirror stays out of the brush covering the rock walls lining the luge run.
Second tip, stop if you are nervous to pass and let the vehicle coming at you pass you. The alternatives…Loosing your right hand mirror and a possible head on collision.
Third, don’t let the vehicles following you intimidate you. There is plenty of opportunities for you to pull over, safely, and allow them to pass. If they are in a big hurry, which most drivers here are not, then they can pass when the law allows. You just need to slow down and allow them to overtake you.
Forth, there are red roads, orange roads and blue roads on the maps. These seem to be the widest, most of the time, and perhaps a bit quicker. Once a bartender laughed at us by not wanting to take the fastest route. He said, “it’s okay girls…there’s less traffic.” Well we risked it and the road was pretty much a one lane country road with pull overs to allow for on-coming cars to pass. This means you must pay attention and look beyond the road straight ahead.
Lastly, have a co-pilot that can remind you to turn right and stay left and turn left and stay left. You may think, that’s not necessary… maybe so, but when you’re trying to drive thru a traffic circle, shift, operate your blinker and exit at the proper time, it helps.
So, these are what we have been challenged with. Hopefully these few tips might help if you plan to travel to a European country that does use the left side to drive in a right hand drive vehicle.
Two Travelin' Chicas... 