The Half-Ring Road: Part 2, The South

We arrived at our airbnb fairly late, but thankfully everyone was still awake, including a very nice family from Spain. They informed us that tonight might actually be a good chance to see the northern lights, and that midnight seemed to be the magic hour. Or at least it was when he was in the Westfjords.
Well sure enough, ladies and gents, we stepped outside right at midnight...and there they were. My poor phone couldn't capture it, but Ashlen has much better pictures on her fancy camera...which we're still figuring out how to transfer to a device. So I guess words well have to do for now.
There's a reason everyone says you should see them before you die. What filled the sky before us was a line of shifting green and yellow. This sometimes alien creature with a head and a tail that would swim towards us only to move away, while sometimes swimming over itself to reveal a gateway to another world hidden in the light.
In short...see it before you die.

In the morning we made our way out to explore the south. We knew we wanted to reach the black sand beach of Vik, which had been recounted as one of the best sights to see. The glacial runoff further along towards Höfn called to me, but it was an additional two hours or so past Vik and we just couldn't squeeze it in.
At first, the weather wasn't so bad. Cloudy, but still enough light to see the sights like Eyjafjallajokull, the volcano that erupted and stopped all air travel in Europe, in the photo above. We also saw a waterfall that seemed to be quite popular right of the road and stopped in to find a gorgeous fall that you could actually walk behind.

Needless to say, it was pretty cool. But other sights kept stopping us on our way to Vik as well. Old ruins of houses, caves, and simply the beautiful scenery around us had us stopping often to snap a photo.
This unfortunately meant that by the time we got to Vik, the road looked like this:

"

And Vik looked like this:

Still impressive, with silky black sand as far as the eye could see and roaring waves to rival the Oregon coast, but after just a few minutes our pants were soaked through from the rain. We took shelter inside the local eatery and bought our first hamburger and fries since arriving. Slightly disappointed and very wet, we drive to the church on a hill to get a look at the sodden city. We can see how beautiful it would be in the sunlight...but for now, all we can feel is this:

On the drive back we try to catch some of the sights we passed along the way:
Some ruined houses built into the rock,

a cave with ferns for a roof,

and another small cave hidden behind a fenced-in playfield.

We tried to get a good look at Skógafoss, a waterfall we had passed, but the rain was simply too much to withstand for us to get anywhere close to it.
So overall, the south actually was a surprising disappointment. Having researched it before, and hearing testimonies that the south was the best, my expectations were high. And admittedly if the weather had been better, it might have lived up to them. There were several points where it was quite obvious that in the summer it would look great, or even in winter with snow covering the mountains. But in fall, it's simply not that interesting. The only things we haven't seen elsewhere were the old ruins and the fern-roofed cave.
So if you come to Iceland in the fall, I would instead recommend the place we only got to spend a couple hours in and highly regret not having at least a day for: the Snaefellsnes peninsula.

To be continued...

The Half-Ring Road: Part 1, The Golden Circle

The Golden Circle
The Golden Circle is a lie...but just in the sense that it's not actually a circle, it's a line. The circle part is just the way back to Reykjavik. As we're moving on to a town called Hella after this, the "circle" becomes more of a "slightly obtuse angle".
Our first stop was not actually planned. There was some beautiful scenery along the way (as there constantly is), so we pulled over to take some pictures. There were two rather lovely horses that seemed to take an interest in us when we stopped, so I walked up to the fence and sure enough, they ambled right over and let us pet them while they sniffed and nipped at our pockets for food. Two other travelers from Boston stopped by as well, and we quickly chat over our hometowns, where we're headed, etc. Over the next couple days I come to realize that tourism is so rampant here that if you just sit down next to someone, they are likely a tourist as well, and certain questions like "where are you from?" and "where are you going?" become the new small talk.

Cresting a ridge we find a giant lake in front of us. It seems at least as big as Puget Sound, stretching for miles. This is our first view of pingvellir National Park, the first official stop on the Golden Circle. The park is HUGE, containing stories of several historical events that occurred there as well as a gorgeous waterfall, burial mound for two of Iceland's famous poets, and giant chasms where the North American and Eurasian continental plates are dividing. The walk here is stunning, and could easily take several hours...and does.

Eventually we remember there's more to see and make our way to...
Geysir/Strokkur
Geysir is, as you may guess, the geyser after which all geysers are named. Unfortunately, it stopped exploding after some volcanic activity some years ago. This may lead you to believe there's no reason to visit this stop of the circle. You'd be wrong.
Walking up you are greeted with that sweet sulfuric smell and come across an almost Yellowstone-like area with bubbling pools, giant pillars of steam, and warnings every few feet that the water is 80-100 Celsius and WE KNOW IT'S PRETTY BUT PLEASE DON'T TOUCH.

After about 5 minutes of walking through that you get to a spot where suddenly you're walking through those streams of supposedly hot water (don't worry, it is in fact safe to touch), and you see the new main attraction: Strokkur.

Strokkur is a geyser that goes off about every 5 minutes. You can watch from a fairly close but still safe distance as this pool of geothermal water bubbles and surges and subsides until the bubble suddenly grows and explodes into this tower of water about 4-5 times your size. It's a fun sight to behold, and since you only have to wait 5 minutes between each blow, you can keep enjoying it until it gets boring. When it does, 10 minutes away lies by far the best sight of the circle, and even one of the best we've seen in Iceland...
Gullfoss
Meaning "Golden Falls", Gullfoss is an astounding sight. In fact, I think there's little words can do to describe the pure jaw-dropping epicness of this waterfall. So you get pictures instead.

Seriously. It was massive. You look out across this plain and then realize this waterfall is taking up an astoundingly large portion of your sightline. Then you walk down a hill to get closer and it just envelopes you. I can't recommend this sight highly enough. Especially when you consider that you can easily look out from the parking lot and spot a glacier.

See all that white close to the ground that looks like it should be an ocean? That's ice.
By this time it was getting late, and an optional crater we had meant to look at got passed by in favor of making it to our airbnb at least somewhat on time...

To be continued...

Reykjavik Day...oh god it's been a week?

Since we last left off...a lot has happened. In fact, an entire week has gone by. While I would love to have the time to lead you all through the story of each day since the first, I am suddenly finding myself with, shocker, not enough time to do everything. So instead, here's the basics of what has been happening.
Day 2
We crashed, and crashed hard. I knew I had overdone it the previous day and so I had. We both slept for most of the day, only getting up to get groceries and explore what turned out to be one of our favorite places in Reykjavik: the public pools.
For 900 ISK, you get access to two giant pools (one shallower for kids, one deeper for lap swimming), several smaller heated pools of various temperatures (from 38-44 Celsius), a glacier pool (~8 Celsius), and a steam room. After such a long day hiking and feeling sore, there was no better treatment. There's also a stand outside selling some famous Icelandic hot dogs which are quite a treat with gravy, mustard, and some kind of fried bits for crunch.
Day 3
We took some time to explore downtown. The cathedral, Hallgrimskirkja, was beautiful in its simplicity dotted with bits of extravagance. The town itself is populated with several beautiful street murals. Most of the shops are located on two main roads, with some treasures to be found down various side streets. Harpa, the opera house, is a beautiful display of architecture, even if none of the shows playing look interesting enough to go see (for their price).
Whale meat is a lot like well spiced, well cooked steak.
The burgers are served close to raw, and are delicious, but expensive.
The local music scene, at least at the downtown hostel, was ambient electronica, and for a crowd much younger than us. Nonetheless it's enjoyable for what it is. Ashlen is into it, I'm ready to go sleep.
We find the penis museum on our way back, but it is closed, and pricey to get into (all museums are roughly $15, so you decide for you if it's worth it).
Day 4
We hear tell of a nearby zoo and botanical garden and decide to go check them out. We get started a little late, and wander slightly the wrong way and stumble into a beautiful church that overlooks the city. It underlines how often something interesting is hiding around a corner. We can hear the roaring and cheering of football fans from the stadium in the distance. They could easily keep up with Seahawks fans for noise level.
We wander down and find a lovely park, which includes the remnants of an old building and a grated hotspring where locals used to come and wash clothes or cook food. Our host later informs us that their mother used to work there, and that practically all of Iceland's progress has occurred in the last 50 years.
The zoo turns out to mostly be a distraction for kids, with only local wildlife, so we decide not to go. The geese, however, still come over to be our friends/get food from us at the fence.
By the time we get to the botanical gardens the light is fading so we decide to come back the next day.
It is on this night we learn the sausage we've been eating the past three days...is horse. Ashlen refuses to eat more. I like it, and eat the rest.
Day 5
We go back to the botanical gardens, explore the rest, explore beyond the church we had found and find little more than residential housing and a movie theater, and stress over where the hell we're going next one our airbnb is up. As we have so much time, driving the ring road around Iceland seems like a great idea. Our hosts are super accommodating, and tell us all the best places to stop, and that as it's the off season we should be able to find places to stay easily.
Day 6
We're getting sick of the city, but there's a flea market happening that our hosts tell us had the cheapest prices on everything we might want. This turns out to be very true, though while you can find entire racks of clothing for only $1 each, you'll be hard pressed to find anything cheap from this decade. However, there are also good prices on fish, so we get a puffin breast to cook later, and a cheap bit of whale blubber which turns out to be one of the most unique tasting things we've ever tasted...and can't finish, despite not actually tasting horrible. Later, the puffin meat turns out black, a little tough, and salty. Like chicken and fish together. Despite probably needing to be boiled for longer, it's not that bad.
After the market, we are going to bus to Perlan, the jewel of Reykjavik...but miss our bus by not being close enough to the street when it passes (despite being at the stop). We decide, screw public transit, and walk south about an hour to get there. It is beautiful and worth it. You can see the entire city and more from the top, even all the way back to the airport where we landed.
There's supposedly a hot spring pool/beach further south, so we make our way there. The forest around us as we walk is strange, as there are more trees here than practically anywhere we've seen. It's mostly undisturbed growth, except for a few clear camping spots hidden in the trees, and a fascinating/slightly creepy group of lean-tos and even the beginnings of a house made from trees that were obviously chopped down for the purpose.
By the time we reach the beach, the pool is closed and the wind is cold. But, it's my first time on the beach of a foreign country. Per personal tradition, I pick up a stone, and skip it out into the waves. 5 skips.
We keep walking, as the wind bites and my legs ache but the sun looks so beautiful shining over the water towards what must be Greenland. We discover an old WW2 bunker that looks out to sea, waiting still for enemy ships.
We wrap around the corner, around the fence that surrounds the local airfield, to get a good view and good pictures of the sunset. Something white peeks out at me from the rocks. It's a fish skeleton, with a large dorsal plate and fin...one I've yet to identify, but decide to take with me.
We walk forward, deciding to continue instead of turn back the way we came. I rest on the stones, my legs still unused to the large amount of sustained walking, but getting better. We see a bus in the distance. I am silently extremely thankful...until it doesn't move for a very long time as we inch towards it. Finally movement, as we are about 10 minutes away.
We walk. We reach a lighthouse, what appear to be abandoned warehouses, and the bus stop. It's the end/beginning of the line, and there's 20 minutes til the next one...which is sitting unoccupied across the street. An odd looking stranger joins us in our wait. He searches for the driver through the windows of the nearby building. We watch for the outcome from the stop, resting our weary legs. He is unsuccessful.
The driver shows up when it's time, picks us up, and drives us back into the city within about 15 minutes. From the names of the streets I gather we made it all the way to the western edge of the city.
Day 7
We spend the day planning, as all the cheap hostels and airbnbs we had hoped to find along the ring road turn out to be completely booked. Even our hosts are surprised as this is supposed to be the off season.
We soon abandon plans for the ring. We find a way to spend two nights in the south, one in the west peninsula above Reykjavik, three in the north at Akureyri, one last night back towards Keflavik, and finally a night at the airport waiting for our early plane to Dublin.
Day 8
We say goodbye to our hosts, thank them for the lovely time and advice, and finally leave Reykjavik behind to pick up our rental car and begin the second half of our Icelandic journey, starting with the famous "Golden Circle".

To be continued...

Day 1: Reykjavik and the Importance of Not Overdoing It

The plane lands, and we hear over the loudspeaker that this will not be a terminal landing, that we will be driven there from the runway. Looking out the window, at the rather large amount of rain, it seemed a good idea to put on some of those layers I had packed, especially my gore-tex jacket. We wait patiently as everyone disembarks, and end up at the start of the line for the second trolley to the terminal.
As I wait, it still oddly feels like home. I know consciously that I just witnessed us flying over while new countryside, roads I had never seen, towns and lights wholly unfamiliar. But staring out into the rain, it's still hard for me to wrap my head around the fact that I just traveled about 8 hours across the globe.
The trolley comes, and my first step off the plane is greeted with a very physical cue that this ain't home. Iceland's air slaps me in the face with roaring, frigid gusts that make me more than glad I put those extra layers on.
At the terminal, we follow the helpful "Arrival" signs, trying our hand at pronouncing the Icelandic language equivalents. We are mostly unsuccessful but thanks to Ashlen's foreknowledge have at least three words at our disposal: "takk" for "thanks", "já" (pronounced "yow") for "yes", and "nei" for "no".
The much-anticipated passport stamping takes almost no time. It in fact takes longer to get through the line than it does to get my passport stamped. I feel surprised and oddly let down that I didn't even get asked "business or pleasure?" like in the movies.
After having barely anything to eat on the plane, and being around 7am (and body feeling like it was midnight), Ashlen and I decide that it's past time to try out Icelandic cuisine. The only thing truly available though were various baguettes, salads, pizza, and coffee. We opt for the baguettes and coffee.
The prices are already slightly surprising, though I assume this is just due to it being airport food. I am later proved wrong. It's also already an adjustment seeing prices for things starting at 100, even though we quickly discover that 116 ISK (krona) is equal to $1. But coffee, even the most basic, is $4-5, and anything substantial food-wise is at least $9-10.
A quick check-in via Skype to friends and family let them know we're here safe, and then we're off to catch a shuttle into Reykjavik. As we step outside, somehow the wind has gotten even more blustery, and we try to peer through the pelting train to find our "Flybus". We look...and look...but all we can see are taxis, private rental vans, and giant tour buses...no flybus.
We had back inside and thankfully quickly discover that the "Reykjavik Excursions" tour buses we had seen outside were actually the same company as flybus, and we didn't even have to wait in the now very large line in order to board as we had preordered tickets. We deposit our bags, and take the only two seats next to each other that were left...right at the front. 50 minutes to Reykjavik.
We originally thought about using the time to rest or sleep but I simply can't. I am glued to the window, marveling at the large swaths of grassland and plains with rugged mountains in the distance, getting curiouser and curiouser at each strange turnout of the road that seemed to lead nowhere but to a picnic table, oohing and aahing at all the moss covered cairns and lava fields and wondering..."Where are the trees?"
We arrive at the BSI bus terminal, knowing it is about a 45 minute walk to our airbnb. There was an option to get dropped off 5 minutes away from it at a hostel for about $15 more, but I thought, oh what the hell, let's walk out and see the city! Plus we had several hours yet until we could check in and well how else should we pass the time?
10 minutes in and I'm already realizing I packed too much. A larger bag with clothes plus a day bag full of other items is too much. Nonetheless I decide to have some fun and record part of a walking tour video that we talked about having as a reward for a certain level of donation to our gofundme campaign.
As we're walking, we pass a salon, obviously just open from the way the owner is sweeping. I had meant to get a haircut before we left but ran out of time, so this just seemed too perfect. What better way to start this adventure into the new than with a new haircut?
I walk in and ask if he speaks English, a question I will eventually realize is wholly unnecessary as EVERYONE speaks English. He says yes, I say how much for a haircut, he says 4.999 ISK (note: the period and comma are reversed in Iceland for dollar amounts. $4,321.23=4.321,23ISK). I say okay, he says sit down over there, and another gentleman steps out of the back and proceeds to cut off far more hair than I told him to, but I'm okay with it as I think it looks pretty good while also having a slightly European flair to it.
Meanwhile the owner has been talking with Ashlen, sharing suggestions about where to go and showing her these stunning pictures he had taken on his phone from some smaller villages to the north. We both thank them, "takk!", and are on our way.
The weather has quieted down now, with the wind still raging as we get closer to the water, but there's no rain and even a glimpse of sunlight through the clouds. We go to the water to enjoy the view of a long stretch of mountain that seems just a quick ferry ride away. A couple of statues also greet us, including one shaped like a Viking ship that turns out to of course be one of the more popular attractions for tourists.
Venturing into downtown (which consists mostly of two main streets running practically the length of the city) we duck into an old bookstore in search of a bathroom and revel in the bonus of that comforting old book smell. He gives us a recommendation for a coffeeshop on the corner which we quickly run over to in order to stay awake enough until we can check in to the airbnb.
It is here that I have a life-changing chai latte, and a "breakfast sandwich" which, instead of being what I thought it would be, was instead closer to an egg salad sandwich with some bacon spiced differently than anything I had ever tasted. I would later realize that this would be some of the only bacon I would have here, as a package of bacon at the supermarket runs at about a $17 minimum.
We finally get in touch with our host who tells us it's okay to come over to the house, and if she's not there we can let ourselves in with a hidden key. Walking from downtown to the house will take about 45 minutes, says google maps.
In my head, I am already a world adventurer, and a walk of less than an hour is no big deal. Sure we've already been waking a lot, and are laden with two rather heavy non-rolling bags each, but it should be fine. So we continue to walk down by the water along what appears to be a main driving road.
And we walk.
And walk.
And walk.
It is about 5-10 minutes away from our destination that I realize I was horribly wrong. That I've been driving the 5 minutes to work for 3 years instead of walking. That I spend most of my time playing video games or watching Netflix. That pretty much the only exercise I get has been rushing to TPS auditions at Seattle Center and haven't done any long, sustained walking since college.
But still feeling like I should be better, I push on.
THIS WAS THE WRONG CHOICE.
We finally get to the house, and no one is home. I promptly threw all my things down and collapsed on the bed. My muscles screamed at me. I could tell even then I had done something wrong, and had wiped myself out for the next day before it was even nighttime.
I took a shower in the hopes some hot water would help my muscles, but to no avail. There was nothing left to do but sleep, hope the next day I'd be able to move at all, and get used to the fact that if you want hot water in Iceland...you better like the smell of sulfur.

To be continued...

More shout outs!

Special thanks to my dad Steven Sanders, and my step-cousin Carolyn Thayer for their gofundme contributions! If you like what I'm posting and want to help us out and get some special rewards in return head over to our page (link on the right side)!

Leaving Day, or

9/12
10:00
Ashlen and I awake in her apartment. It's hard to believe...today's the day. We're finally leaving for Europe. All that's left is to do one final check of our luggage, make sure we both have everything we need, or at least everything we don't want to worry about buying overseas. We've planned to have breakfast at a cafe I have a gift card to and then head over to my mom's, who will be driving us to the airport.
I am strangely calm. I freaked out plenty the day before, remembering the thousand little things I wanted to have ready before we left that I had put off or forgotten and had no time to take care of. But today, I feel at ease.
At least until Ashlen announces that she's been oddly nauseous, dizzy, constantly hungry, and plagued by headaches the last couple days (and pregnancy has been ruled out).
It is about 10am. We need to be at my mom's by 1pm, to get to the airport by 2pm, to leave for Iceland at 4pm.
We leave the apartment to get breakfast at Cafe Javasti, hoping some food will alleviate her symptoms. It doesn't. She calls a nurse through her insurance, but unfortunately doesn't have her insurance info on her, thinking it wouldn't be necessary overseas. Thankfully all they need is her social. However, upon describing her symptoms, the nurse advises going to an urgent care clinic, which will need her info.
11am.
We rush back to her apartment, grab her info, and head to the urgent care clinic down the street. I am frantically signing in to their Wi-Fi, as I no longer have a network-connected phone, to Skype my mom and let her know what's going on.
11:30.
Ashlen gets out of urgent care, with a disappointed look. Turns out...she's fine. But the doctor didn't really do anything but take her blood pressure so it's hard to know if the diagnosis is accurate. He has given her some medicine for vertigo/nausea that we can fill across the street at Safeway. It will take 30 minutes.
I refuse to freak out. On the outside.
12:00.
We have parted ways for a couple minutes. I had some cash to deposit at Chase, she some checks at Bank of America. I am sitting on the hood of my car, waiting for her to return.
I am still refusing to freak out. Now on the inside as well. It's a fight I am losing.
Ashlen appears, proclaiming she's done! And let's go!
12:30
We arrive at my mom's, apologetic, trying to explain the crazy morning we have just had. I am quickly dropping off clothes I had decided not to take while Ashlen and mom talk upstairs, and switch out my shirt because I had gotten a grease stain on it.
I take a quiet moment to freak...the fuck...out.
1:00
We leave for the airport. Traffic is, for once, not that bad. Mom drops us off, we hug and try not to cry, knowing that this will be the longest stretch of time we've ever been apart.
2:00
Our boarding passes are printed from a computer terminal, as there is no station open for Icelandair. We worry briefly about if our bags are overweight, and if we'll need to check them what do we do?...And then quickly discard that worry in favor of figuring out what we needed to do next. I thought "follow the pilots, surely they know where to go". Of course they did know where to go...the staff entrance. We double back, get through TSA fairly quickly, promptly get lost trying to find our gate which requires a train to get to...and finally find it.
3:00
We grab some teriyaki bowls to munch on. I watch the people at the gate next to us heading to Dubai, and have to wonder how differently it must feel for them traveling one day after the 15th anniversary of 9/11. Is it different at all? How much do they feel the impact of a presidential candidate being so adamantly against anyone like them (aka not white) being here?
They call our row to board the plane. We haven't finished eating our teriyaki and quickly make room in a bag to take it on the plane. It turns out to be a sound investment as there is no free food on the plane, just drinks. The woman in the window seat beside us, who didn't speak a word or even get up the entire time, was far better prepared.
11:00 US, 6:00 Iceland.
Neither of us have slept. We've barely eaten. "Big Eyes", most of "Warm Bodies", and listening to various Icelandic artists has kept us entertained during the ~8 hour flight. My feet have been uncomfortable in my currently too-cushioned shoes that I had to untie and stretch out to stop feeling like I needed to stamp my feet every couple minutes. It has been too dark to see anything since about halfway across Canada. But as the cabin lights come up, and the plane tilts down, and I see the sun rise on the other side of the plane, and I look out to see the crashing waves, and the ring road, and the countryside, nothing else matters but the fact that I...am...here. I've done it. I've made it to a foreign country halfway across the world. And I'm going to be here for six months.

And then the Icelandic wind and rain punched me in the face.

To be continued...

FREAKING...OUT (and a special thanks!)

TOMORROW.  TOMORROW IS THE DAY.

This morning has been a massive whirlwind, trying to finish packing, distributing weight between my two bags so I don't get charged, taking care of food I'll leave behind, putting away extra clothes, cords, computers, and and and....

AAAHHHHHHHHH is basically how I feel.

It's important to remember that everything will work out...because it has to.  But for now, back to work!

And a special shout-out/thank you to William Lavely for donating to our gofundme campaign!  If you'd like to join him and get a special postcard from a random country head to:

https://www.gofundme.com/zachandashineurope

All The Crap That Should've Been Done A Month Ago

5 days to go.

This week has been a mad frenzy for me.  Seeing friends, packing, unpacking, sorting, repacking, and getting all the crap done that should've been done at least a month ago.  So I decided to make a little checklist for you all, so that if you decide to travel you have these specific things done AT LEAST one month before you go.  Because trying to squeeze them all into the last 5 business days is not the best.

1) Go to the dentist.  I know it seems like a no brainer, but seriously.  Do it.  Ashlen went and discovered that if she hadn't, the high altitude of the plane might have POPPED a tooth.  Like a balloon.  Thankfully I haven't had to deal with such issues, but I did have two cavities, and since I'm getting it done so late, they only have time to fill one.  Eeny, meeny, miny, mo...

2) Get your vaccinations up to date.  Another no brainer.  Check in with your doctor about current warnings from the CDC about where you're traveling.  They've got all the info you could need and it's super simple to get whatever shots you're lacking.

3) Figure out your phone.  If you want to bring your own phone, you have a couple choices.  Either switch over to an international plan (which at Verizon will run you at least $100/month), suspend your plan for a minimal monthly fee (or for nothing if you get a super awesome nice Verizon chat support person named Charlie) and purchase SIM cards over there, or just buy a whole new cheap phone with a prepaid plan when you get there.

4) Purge your clothing and make hard choices.  A lot of this week has been staring at piles of clothes.  Short sleeve in one pile, long sleeve in another, sweaters, jeans, khakis, pajamas, pile for goodwill, pile for maybe Europe, pile for not Europe but still keep....Just make sure to give yourself time, and give yourself permission to let...things...go.

5) Buy everything you might need.  Amazon Prime is a huge help here, but the farther ahead you plan, the more you won't have any surprises that require rush shipping and you'll have time to return things if you're not happy.  Money belts, phone cases, winter coats, and shoes are all things we've bought within the last couple days.

6) Plan a going away party.  With 5 days left I'm finding myself scrambling to see friends before I go, and realizing just how important it is for both you and your friends to have that "just in case, goodbye forever" hangout.  With social media these days no one is as far away as they used to be, but boy does face-to-face time count.

I'm more than sure this list will change and expand once we get over there and realize the actually important things we forgot to do, but hey, it's something!

5 days....oof.

Untying Threads

10 days to go.

Ever since we decided to go to Europe, we've often described our preparation as "untying threads"; letting go of everything that's been keeping us here.  Quitting our jobs, saying no to theater projects, saying goodbye to friends we won't see for 6 months, and, at least in my case, moving out of the house I've been in for several years and back into my mother's place.

There's a reason everyone says go when you're young.  At 30 years old I'm still not old per se, but I'm discovering the further you get from college, the more difficult untying those threads becomes.  It's easy to think that once you have enough money, once you are more stable, once you've done all the research and planning, once once once...that it'll be easier to leave.  But it's not.  You just gain more threads.

I realize this is sounding dire, like past a certain age THERE'S NO HOPE or some other such nonsense.  I more mean to approach this from a place of thoughtfulness, of reminiscence, of knowing that the life I was leading is ending and the life to come is beginning.

In popular media, the tarot card of Death is taken in a quite literal sense.  The scared protagonist sees a creepy psychic who forsees DEEEAAAATTTTHHHH.  But I take it quite differently.  The card of Death is not an inherently bad card.  It's about transformation.  It's about letting go.  It's about that feeling you get when you know that nothing will be the same.  And as you might expect, that card has been showing up for me lately.

So my advice if you're planning a long travel?  Untie your threads with care.  Treat each one with the respect it deserves, which also includes giving it the time it deserves.  With only 10 days to go and being a natural procrastinator I find myself quickly running out of time to do everything that needs doing (which will be going in a "be prepared" checklist at some point).  But at least I can take a moment to just be thankful, to everyone and everything that has brought me to this point, and be open to what is to come.