Mexico--oh Mexico

Though I live in California, only six hours north of the Mexico-U.S. border, I've never been to Mexico. Until recently. I always wanted to go, but at the same time it wasn't at the top of my list--so many other places to go that aren't as close... What I didn't take into consideration was that because it's so close, it's cheaper to travel and that everything costs so much less in Mexico.

As I went to Mexico for a conference, the majority of my airfare was paid for. As such, my expenses were fairly low as compared to other places. Compared to where I live in California, I found everything exceptionally cheap.

Costs:

• Airfare from San Luis Obispo Airport (a small county airport) to Puerto Vallarta and from Mexico City to San Luis Obispo Airport $644
• Airfare from Puerto Vallarta to Mexico City $52
• Four nights in an all-inclusive resort in Puerto Vallarta (Fiesta Americana) FREE
• Three nights in an Airbnb in Puerto Vallarta $66
• Five nights in an Airbnb in Mexico City $86
• Taxi from resort to downtown Puerto Vallarta 65-70 pesos/$3.25-3.50
• Taxi from Airbnb to airport in Puerto Vallarta 120 person/ $6
• One-way bus in Puerto Vallarta 7.50 pesos/40 cents
• One-way subway in Mexico City 5 pesos/25 cents
• One-way bus in Mexico City 4 pesos/20 cents
• Glass of wine at pizza restaurant 50 pesos/$2.50
• Glass of wine at fancy restaurant 85-144 pesos/$4.25-7.25
• Meal at a family restaurant 80 pesos/$4
• Meal at fancy, trendy restaurant (included mocojete with mixed meats, two glasses of wine, dessert and coffee) 600 pesos/$30
• One-way taxi from Airbnb to airport 200 pesos/$10 (I was overcharged for sure, but didn't argue since I wanted to spend the last of my pesos anyway)

Something I've learned over the years of traveling is that it is cheaper to get local currency from the ATM or to pay with a credit card. I only used my debit card to get money out of the ATM (I was charged to use the ATM and a foreign transaction fee). The rest of the time I used my credit card, which did not charge me any transaction fees.

I loved Mexico for its rich history and culture, especially Mexico City, but also the great exchange rates and how cheap everything was. Every time someone would tell me the cost of something and I'd repeat it incredulously, the person would either lower the price or ask me if it was expensive. It became a challenge of mine to see how fancy of a place and how much I could order. My most expensive meal was $30 including tax and tip for an appetizer, entree, 2 glasses of wine, dessert and a cup of coffee. At home, I once ordered off the starter menu and one glass of wine and spent $30, not including tip for a comparable restaurant.

Traveling with food allergies

Travel can be difficult, even frightening, for someone who has food allergies. Though my daughter and I do not have immediate life-threatening allergies, we both suffer internally -- after some exposure I find myself in bed for a couple of days. While traveling is not a time I want to deal with physical sickness. I'd rather choose to stay home than deal with it.

With that in mind, I've been preparing for our extended travel to Japan and what we need to take with is to be comfortable. That led me to a Facebook group, Gluten-free Expats in Japan. Which led me to discovering Triumph Dining Cards. I got my set of cards for American, Chinese, French, German, Greek, Indian, Italian, Japanese, Mexican, Thai and Vietnamese cuisine. One side is in English and the other in the corresponding language. Each card is specific to the cuisine.

I'm feeling much more confident about dining in a different country with a different language. 

Two weeks from today...

we will be on our way toward Japan. Our flight doesn't leave until 1 a.m. Monday, Aug. 17, but we'll get on the train the afternoon of Sunday, Aug. 16 for Los Angeles.

I have a mix of emotions, though now my apprehensive has dulled to nervous butterflies, with tons of excitement. I can hardly believe that in two weeks' time we will be on our way toward Japan.
My final weeks have been working as a program for an exchange program, which renders me busy all the time, even if I'm just there as a body I'm not at home. This weekend I was slated to go to San Francisco, but since only 21 of 72 students went, I got to stay home and get some things done at home.I did get enough done this weekend that the heavy weight on my shoulders has been lifted.

What's left:

• Sell the Mazda
• Sell the Saturn
• Sell my desktop computer
• Sell my laptop
• PACK (though I've gotten a good head start)
• Wrap up various work-related tasks
  

It's real, and it's near

It's starting to feel real. Butterflies are in my stomach. Both excited butterflies, and the omg-what-am-i-doing? butterflies. Seriously, what am I thinking to pack up myself and my 6-year-old daughter for six months and go to another country? 

Have I lost my mind? Some people have said yes. But where would be without people you leapt first and thought second.

I've learned that sometimes you have to say, "this seems crazy, and it probably is, but I'm going to not think about it and just do it."

Some examples that come to mind are the time I jumped off a large rock in the Pacific Ocean in Waimea Bay on the island is Oahu in Hawaii.

Another one is when I decided to not get a full-time, steady job with benefits and instead I pieced together a living with freelance and one-off gigs. I love it. I don't want to go back. Doing that has enabled me to pack up and head to Japan/Asia for six months. I still need to make money, but I can do it from anywhere because of what I've built--and because of technology.

I'm so excited to see what life has i store for my girl and I in Japan.

The wanderlust bug has bitten...

I'm just over five weeks away from embarking on my next adventure--six months in Japan. With my six-year-old daughter.
I'm starting to question if I'm sane. I've already been told that I'm not.
Because...
We have a 13-hour flight from LAX to Taiwan. Then another two-hour flight to Fukuoka, Japan. The longest flight my daughter has been on is three hours, from LAX to Kansas City...when she was 7 months old and I got her sleep while wearing her. Now, when my daughter gets overly tired she sounds like a fire alarm when the batter runs low. Except she doesn't beep, it's just a single high-pitched squeal. I don't even think she knows she's doing it. It's like a warning single, don't get too close, I might bite.
I might never come back just to avoid another 13-hour flight...
38 days to go.

Steve the Zebra Pigeon Feeder

While exploring Waikiki Beach this morning, I walked down a concrete (let's call it something like a pier, because it went out into the water, but it's not a traditional wood pier) pier after a long and meandering path down the beach and then back via road (I just walked have a vague sense of direction, figuring if I got lost, alll the better). Walking toward the end of the pier, a man (about my age and Asian) had one hand and arm covered in small birds. An older American man was talking to him. I took a few photos of this. The American man looked at me and asked, "You want to feed them? It's free."

"OK," I said, though I was unsure about having birds on my arm. He gave me a couple of pieces of bread.

"Put your thumb of top of it so they don't make off with the whole pieces," he said.

I did that and instantly my hand and left arm were covered with birds. Zebra pigeons he said they are called. We stood there, the two of us. Not talking a whole lot to start with -- I never like being nosy, so I often have a difficult time just asking people questions. But after a while -- maybe only a few minutes -- he asked me where I'm from. 

"California," I said.

"What part?"

"Central Coast."

Eventually, he mentioned Morro Bay. "That's really close to me," I said.

He and his wife lived in Seattle until they moved to Waikiki 11 years ago. He said he retired 18 years ago, but took his time deciding where to retire, until he realized that Waikiki was the place he wanted to be.

He walks out that pier nearly every morning about 7 a.m. and stays untill 10 or 11 a.m. feeding the birds and talking to visitors. He knows the other regulars who are out there boogie boarding and chats up with a smile all those who stop by.

Early Morning Exploring-Day 1

At 2:30 in the moring my eyes were open, my body ready to go, even though I had only sank into bed three hours earlier and tossed and turned, slipping in and out of sleep, the whole time. At home, it was 5:30, already an hour after my alarm usually rouses me from sleep.

I arrived in Honolulu last night after 9 p.m., to my hostel after 10, so hadn't even figured out where the beach way or what was surrounding me. I was ready to explore, but since the sun wasn't even peaking over the horizon yet, I promised myself a sunrise walk if only I stayed in the twin bed -- a spring digging into my side -- for another two to three hours. So I did. Every so often, every 15 minutes it seemed, I would open my eyes, put my glasses on my face and glance at the digital clock on the stove across the room from my bed.

3:04

3:18

3:37

3:52.....

Finally, 5:03 came up.

I rose, grabbed my new bikini, never worn except to try it on in my closet imagining myself actuallly wearing it on the beach...in Hawaii, shorts and cover up top, changed quickly in the small bathroom, careful to not wake my three roommates all soundly sleeping in their beds. Two of the women stumbled into the room around 2 a.m., I thought it was much later, until I put on my glasses and saw the time.

In my beach clothes, flip flops on my feet and bag with beach mat, towel, water, smartphone, pen and guides on my shoulder, I headed out. The friendly man with an Austrialian accent at the front desk gave me directions to the beach.

"It's easy, Love. Take a right out the door, then turn left at the next road and it's a block up," he said with a smile.

The beach was the opposite way that I imagined and the opposite way that I would have gone on my own.

When I turned the corner, I saw narrow palm trees coming out of the light brown sand with blue water lapping onto shore. There were a few other early birds up walking around. Probably afflicted with the same jet lag that I had (well, still have).

I stopped where the sidewalk met the sand, closed my eyes and breathed deeply, bringing in the warm arm, smelling the tropical flowers on the trees around me, and hearing the water lap onto shore. There weren't a lot of other sounds, most of Waikiki still being asleep.

I then took off my flip flops and with them in hand, walked straight into the water. Not far, just enough to feel it. People who have been hear before insisted that the water was warm like bath water. I believed them, I really did, but still expected to gasp with surprisse when it was ice cold. But I did not, because it was warm, just like they said.

I was prepared to sack out on the beach to enjoy the early morning quietness and take a swim, but overwhelmed with excitement to check out the new place, I just kept walking. I took a few photos, but just took in the sights, smells and sounds of my first real day in O'ahu. My first time, even, in Hawai'i.

I was just going to take a selfie of me with Diamond Head in the background but happened across a couple from Texas taking photos of each other. I offered to take one of them and they took one of me. Tip for people traveling solo, offer to take photos of others because it'lll make it easier for you to ask for them to do the same (or they will offer), so that you get soe photos of you on vacation that aren't all selfies.

The beginning of another adventure

There's something about sitting, alone, in a crowded bar surrounded by others sitting alone. Each of us with our own device in front of us, some single travelers chatting each other up, most  wrapped up in themselves, either not wanting to interact, or afraid to look up and connect. Or afraid of rejection, a drink in one hand, a device in the other.

As I ready to embark on yet another solor adventure, I'm questioning myself. Should I be going? Why in the world do I think going to Hawaii ALONE is a good idea? Of course, even if I talk to no one while I'm there, I need the time alone. To get OUT of my own head. Or perhaps to work out what's going on inside my head without all the distractions of my life. I'm happy with my life, but get caught up in going here and there that I often don't have the time to sit and listen. Though that's what I need to do the most. All the time especially with a 5-year-old constantly wanting, and needing, my attention. I've been finding my patience has been waning and a vacation from my life is exactly what I need. And as my professional life is at a turning point -- my publisher told me this week that the July  issue will be our last -- I need some time to meditate on what that means for me and where I need to go. I have a pretty good idea, but everything needs some sand, sun and relaxation while they work themselves out. Sure, I've got all those things at home, but I also have a house that always needs something done, a 5-year-old who loves and adores me (and whom I love and adore), and a million other things that I'd choose before me. I did comtemplate a staycation, but realized that getting thousands of miles away would be a better idea, I couldn't just head home when I missed my daughter (and I already do!)

While I almost thought I should cancel my trip (yeah, I thought this only an hour ago), I'm here and I'm going. And I need it.

Metz Cathedral

When I decided to venture to Metz, Frnace, it was because of a recommedation from my friend, Stephaie. I had other great recommedations, but I was drawn to Metz for some reason. Maybe because the others sounded German and I still wanted to a French experiece. It was more of a mental thing than anything specific.
I arrived in Metz yesterday via train from Paris. I didn't know what to expect or even where I would stay. I just went. This morning I ventured out to explored the small city. One place I wanted to see was the cathedral. I could see the top of the spires from throughout the city. What I didn't know until I got up close and personal is that it looks very much like Notre-Dame de Paris. Very much like it.
I looked around for a line to get in. There was none, but I saw people coming and going, so in I went. The inside also very much resembled Notre-Dame. The biggest difference? The number of people. There were maybe 50 people total inside the cathedral while I was there. The line to get into Notre-Dame was way longer than that. While there wasn't a lot of noise in Notre-Dame, there still has a dull hum because of the shear number of people there.
I recommend Metz as a definite visit if you ever go to France. You can see some of the same kinds of sights (a cathedral like Notre-Dame; the Centre Pompidou, etc.), but get a much more French town. Now, most of the people don't speak much English, or don't cop to it, so you'll have to know a little French at least.

French food

I am enjoying the food in France so very much, but I have to admit that I'm looking forward to being back home where I'll have more control-such as my own kitchen.
Being a tourist, especially in large cities is difficult between not knowing where to go and not wanting to spend too much, as well as eating somewhat healthy-though the last list out. The most healthy things I have had are fruit smoothies from McDonalds, and some salads when I would have a sit-down meal.
While I feel I may have gained a ton, I think it has been evened out by the shear number of miles I have logged in my feet.
Here is some of the food I have had on my trip.

The expanse

Zooming through the French countryside on a nearly silent train, I see green fuzz covering an otherwise brown terroir. The blue-gray sky is nearly cloudless, black specks-birds-dot the space above the horizon
The land outside the window could be that of my home country if not for the brick towns that pop up.
This country is lot my own or even vaguely familiar, but it shows that we (humans) aren't that different. Though not all countries are so similar, we are people have some basic needs and desires that are the same, regardless of where we're from-food/water and love. I can't think of anything else that we need to live. Love makes us human, otherwise what are we? Robots or monsters.

"Nowhere to be and all day to get there"

That's my favorite song by the Waybacks (they performed in Stadium Park years ago). That's how I feel right now. I could go anywhere right now. I'm going to Metz, was going to try and visit a friend in Germany at the American Airforce base in Ramstein, but no train there today.
I've been trying to firm up a place to stay in Metz for tonight-I do have one for tomorrow night, however.
I attempted to take the 1:40 pm train to Metz, but the ticket machine would t take my card and the line for tickets was Lon and SLOW. I didn't get my ticket until 1 pm. So now what? Sitting in the train station people watching and blogging and ill likely pull out my Kindle-I'm in the middle of a good book.
While I'm a slight bit anxious about not having a place to stay, I'm not worried. Worst comes to worst I'll hop on a train or bus and go somewhere else (most likely to you, Jessica B.)
I'm sad to leave Paris, but after seeing the difference between London an Canterbury, I'm ready to et out of the city. Now I'll really have to use French instead of relying on everyone to know English (and they do-they often start talking to me I. English the second I open my mouth).
I'm sad that my vacation-the first alone in years (and by alone I mean sans my constant companion)-is nearly over; though I miss my girl dearly! It's been nice to have a break from always working or being a mother. Needed to recharge and seeing the world is a high priority to me and it's been pushed to the back burner.
Next year, Paula and I are going to Russia!! Anyone want to take my girl for two weeks? :P Just kidding, but only slightly. :D

Cheese and wine...finally

I've been attempting to sample some of France's infamous cheese and wine. While I've had some here and there (and it lives up to its reputation), I wasn't able to get to an actual wine bar. I specifically wanted to try some wine AND cheese.
Le Garde Robe on rue de l'arbre sec in Paris was recommended to me by a friend of a friend who lives in Paris.
I attempted to go there Saturday night, but got the incorrect metro stop and directions from my map app (thank you, technology!), so my attempt was thwarted.
It was closed Sunday, so I had accepted I wouldn't make it. Then, I found it while walking around this afternoon. It was t quite open then so I went back to my hotel to get there at the "right" time, after 9 pm.
The small wine bar, which also specializes in cheese and meats, is a small room with a brick wall in one side with shelves or wine opposite it. The wood-floored room seats about 20.
The first thing I was asked was "red or white?"
"Red," I said.
"Light or heavy?"
Hmmm....decisions.
"Light," I said, expecting a rose. Instead I got something more like a Zinfandel, but with a taste I've never had before. She promptly went behind the bar and brought back a wine. She poured me a small taste for me to try. I got to say yes or no to it and she the poured me a full glass with a "yes" answer (or oui).
Next, I got to order my food. I wanted to try both the meat and cheese, but didn't want full orders of each. I asked if I coil have a small board of each. She said no, but then said she could give me a one-half board of each. I'm not sure that I got a half order, but it's good none the less and I do not know when I'll be in Paris.
Though I'm the only single party here, all the rest are couples, I'm enjoying the atmosphere. And the food. And the wine.
And eventually I'll have dessert. My sever/bartender did last call for the kitchen and was quick to say that dessert would still be available.
A man just walked in selling roses. I'm only used to seeing young woman selling the roses on a night out. Oh how different Paris is.
All the cheeses were relatively not stinky, but I like the stinky cheese!!!
I now am a very satiated Heather now that I've experienced a Paris wine bar.

How do you say...what?

We're in the Flanders area of Belgium. I was expecting to speak French, or even German, and it appears to be Dutch with German, French and a bit of English mixed it. I feel bad just speaking in English without making effort in Dutch. I need to just say "Hello" in German and let it be, though I don't know what it is. I do how to say "thank you" in German, that's easy. I learned no and Christmas tree.

Stories

The beat part of traveling-even life-are the stories you accumulate due to mishaps or just because. I find that the best things come unexpectedly.
Tyler and I planned to take the ferry from Dover, England, to Dunkirk, France, because it is closer to the best beer in the world. Tyler reserved a rental car for us in Dunkirk (car is the easiest and possibly only way to get I the monastery-short of hitchhiking or paying a random person to drive us, which I would be willing to do for the best beer on the world in a pinch), but we couldn't get tickets to Dunkirk, only Calais, France, because you had to have at least a bike to get on that ferry.
Now that's just lovely.
I'm not worried, one way or another we'll either get a car in Calais or take a bus/train to Dunkirk. We'll get to see a bit more of France either way.
Of course, my best stories are likely yet to come as we're leaving an English-speaking country for French and Flemmish.
I've been learning via Rosetta Stone an I have a phrase book to read on the journey over. I'm practicing what I'd need to say to certain people I may see when we arrive. Will make every effort in French.

Waiting, watching

I sit in the train station, waiting. Waiting for my travel companion to arrive. Waiting for the train to depart. Waiting for my body to thaw.
While I wait, I watch.
I see a school field trip with at least 30 6-year-olds and one adult per 5 children. I see families heading of for holiday. I see businessmen (and women) in suits, carrying briefcases. I see people.

Another world...mostly

Walking down Oxford Street, I was not surprised to see the Gap, Footlocker, Starbucks, Burger King, McDonald's, Pizza Hut and other America shops. Like in the US, nearly everyone has a smartphone in hand - nearly always an IPhone.
What's different - at least for living in a more rural area - are all the different people speaking different languages. I've heard more language than I have English - though half the time I can't understand some of the thing accents even from native English speakers.
I've already found myself using some different words :
Instead of:
mail use post
Excuse me, sorry
Bathroom, loo or toilet
Takeout, takeaway
Subway, Tube or underground
Trash, rubbish
Trash ca, rubbish bin
Elevator, lift
Apartment, flat
Watch your step, mind the gap
Rent, hire or let
Truck, lorie
Cart, trolley
Trip, journey

And so many more.

Another important discovery, if you ask for a tea, you'll be prompted for more info - what kind of tea for you want? Cream and sugar?

If you ask for a coffee, you'll the same question, because with the exception of Starbucks and the cafe by the London Eye, no one has "filter" coffee (which we know as brewed) or pour over or French pressed (maybe a French place will have that, but I'm waiting to go into French places until I get to France)

I've arrived in London

Getting to our London host's wasn't as easy as I expected. I had the directions in my phone, and carefully followed them. I cursed myself (inside my head, of course, to not appear crazy) for not doing the street view BEFORE I left the United States.
Wearing my 50-plus backpack (maybe that will keep me from buying too much-but probably not), I trekked down Stockwell Road toward Nathan's flat. I was looking for what I thought was a street (Court was the second word). The directions said to walk six minutes and it's be on the right. I figured I was much slower than six minutes with the backpack and not sleeping on the plane (oh how tried-and failed). After about 13 minutes I was still walking. I just knew I had passed my turn. So I finally found a place to stop and ask for help. It was a tiny neighborhood shop. The man there was a foreigner evident by his English skills. After showing him the address on the phone (appears I was saying it incorrectly, of course), he directed me to barbershop next door. I was expecting what you'd see in Atascadero (terrible comparison: Atascadero to London, not even close).
I walked into the barbershop. There were about a dozen or so black men (nice on the eyes, of course). Everyone stopped to start at the white girl-lost and American wearing a huge backpack and frizzy hair from walking in the drizzle). They were somewhat helpful, but the first question was "why don't you GPS it on the iPhone you're holding." "It doesn't work" (because it's $20 per MB, unsaid of course).
With a tiny bit of a direction (now I knew to look for Stockwell Green), I headed off back toward the Tube station. Not far of a walk, I saw Stockwell Green and then the name of the apartment building (not a tiny court).
I MADE IT!!!!!!

Please note that I am writing these all on the fly on my phone. When I can, I will edit on my computer. I want to be sure to write these whenever I can or I will get for behind.

The waiting

It feels like a dream. I'm an hour from my flight to London taking off. Traveling has been such a desire for me. Really, what I believe I'm built for-exploring the planet on which we live and sharing those inhabitants' stories. I've put it on the back burner. Not any longer.
This trip. Was more of a whim. Well...not even a whim, really. My brother and I were chatting on Facebook and he said, "after I visit you, I'm flying from SLO to London."
"I want to go!" I hastily wrote back. As if, I thought bitterly.
That wishful thinking sentence led to more wishful writing between Tyler, which led to "well, why the hell not "
Which turned to "I'm going to Europe for two weeks."
The initial planning, however was for Tyler, my girl and I. I was excited to take her and write about traveling Europe with a 4-year-old. My mother soon offered to come out to California from Kansas to stay with A. My immediate reaction was "NO! We're both going!" After a weekend travel writing boot camp, I quickly called my mom and said "Ok, let's do it." That was in September. Here we are 6 months later. It's happening. Holy cow!!!! I've been to Europe before, heck, I've been to London before, but my last international travel was 13 years ago, when I was 20.
One thing I live about traveling is the people watching. Absolutely intriguing. People are so interesting to just watch. How different we all are, but also how similar we are. We are all people.

Two-week Europe trip here I come

I'm getting ready to start a two-week European adventure with my brother. The backing-through-Europe, staying-at-hostels-crashing-on-couches type of trip. The kind you'd expect a newly graduated high school or college student to do.
Instead, it's the single, working parent of a 4-year-old. I'm excited for two weeks of ME time. No planning my schedule around my girl's sleep schedule or her "fussy" time.
The last several vacations I've gone on, I was left with "why did I even spend all this money on a vacation to enjoy none of it." I would go home more exhausted from 24/7 of being withy daughter. I live her and enjoy being around her, but there are limits to how much she can handle.
I feel like a child let less on her own. No one to worry about but herself.
Work will survive without me. And although it's a bit saddening to me, so will my daughter, though she keeps saying "I'm going to be SO hungry" or "who's going to take care of me?"
The longest we've been apart is 3 days and that was only 3 weeks ago.
I'm waiting to get on my first flight of the trip, SLO to LAX, then LAX to Heathrow.
I can't seem to relax, yet.
I've got the important things with me. My child is in good hands and there's not much else I can do right now. Except relax.
That will be the most important thing this vacation: relax. Slow down and breathe. Don't worry. Things will work out the way they will.
Stay tuned for updates throughout my trip. I'll post as often as I can. Let me know what you think I should see or do in London.