Category: Traveled Places

And I’m back.

Posted in Thoughts, United StatesTagged , , , , 1 Comment

For the 2+ months I haven’t blogged. Not once. And there is no excuse as the pictures piled up on my iPhone and words ran through my head. So what was going on all that time?

  • I got a cold and went to bed at 9pm for a week.  
  • Boyfriend Billy and I had a delicious sushi dinner on the Upper West Side. 
  • My mom and I decorated the bunny cake for Easter. 
  • I traveled back to Northampton, Mass to visit my former home. 
  • The weather got warm.
  • I planned my 25th birthday party.
  • The weather got cold. 
  • I made friends with my co-workers. 
  • I finished reading No Country for Old Men.
  • Some Bucknell ladies and I booked plane tickets for New Orleans. 
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Easter bunny cake

New York finally had its first 75F degree day. The sun comes streaming through my bedroom window earlier each morning, eliciting movement and disgruntled groaning. The restaurants on 30th Avenue in Astoria are beginning to put out tables and chairs for outdoor seating. Spring feels so close I could hold it. 

And with the coming season, I’m still learning the same lesson I’ve learned countless times before:

Things take time. 

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Financial District

Accomplishing an item on my To-Do list–consolidating bank accounts, building a gym routine and planning weekly lunches–feel like mini accomplishments. I’m realizing that building a life here in New York is more challenging than traveling alone or moving to Massachusetts. What does it mean to own a New Yorker status? I’ll have to learn the subway lines without looking at a map and stretch my budget to include infinite happy hours and monthly rent. I’ll need to stop fumbling at work among experienced sales professionals and stop gazing in awe at the skyscrapers downtown. It’s been almost five months (FIVE MONTHS?!) and my daily life still feels delicate and new. 

Boyfriend Bill & Me
Boyfriend Bill & Me

But my people are here and that had made all the difference. With help from the darling roommates, I rented a private room for my 25th birthday party (on Saturday!) and the overwhelming list of RSVP yes’s made my heart swell. Friends from college and high school are scattered throughout the boroughs and the boyfriend makes plenty of time for me despite the one hour commuting difference from Queens to Hoboken. New York has the only thing my European adventure lacked, a core group of individuals with whom I can share my highest highs and lowest lows. This place and these people had captured my heart despite the frigid winter and gnawing reality of an unknown future. 

There are cherry blossoms in Newark, New Jersey.

Anything is possible. 

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Cherry Blossoms in Newark, NJ

Liebster Award Nomination

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A dear blogger, one Miss Ruby, nominated me for a Liebster Award Nomination! This wonderful award is meant to build a community of bloggers who have something to say but could use more publicity so others can read their words and thoughts. I cannot thank Ruby enough. Make sure to check out her blog at: VRAIGEMMEROUGE

And with this post comes the shame and “tail-between-my-legs” moment exclusively reserved for belated birthday cards. Ruby nominated me…

On December 30th.

I know I know. How long is Katelyn going to use the moving to New York excuse? Life has been complicated. I haven’t been my regimented blogging self. But no more excuses. Let’s get to the rules of the award:

  1. Thank and link the person/people who nominated you.
  2. Display the Liebster Award and the rules.
  3. Answer the 11 questions given to you.
  4. Write 11 facts about yourself.
  5. Nominate 11 other bloggers (who have less than 200 followers).
  6. Write 11 new questions for your nominees.

Leibster

So here goes:

Why did you start blogging?

I started a blog when I left the country to study abroad in Copenhagen. That was 2011. Since then, I’ve continued writing as the blog followed me back to college, across the world to the Philippines and most recently on my European backpacking excursion. And now in 2015 its continued to be a way to share my voice and thoughts with my friends, family and online admirers. Just kidding. 

How did you come up with the name of your blog?

This can be summed up in my About Me. I was born with 12 twelve toes like those little mutant alien babies you see in sci-fi movies. After my surgery at eleven months old, I became a “normal” ten toed individual. People always ask me: why didn’t you keep them? Well for one thing I was eleven months old and didn’t have much say in the matter. And more specifically…because shoe shopping.

What is your favorite to thing to write about, especially if you don’t have to post it?

My favorite thing? That’s a good question. I guess my favorite topic is whatever I’m thinking or feeling in a given moment. Too often I find this one idea bouncing around in my head. It’s not until I can write it out–get those whispers out on paper–that I can really understand and hash out those intangible ideas. 

What are the three things you think you will still be using in 10 years?

1. Hair ties- I hate those little static pieces of hair flying in my face.

2. Flour-No good dessert would be complete without it. 

3. Pen & Paper- My journal sits by my bed and I can’t imagine recording my thoughts in anything else. 

What is your five-year plan in only three sentences?

I plan to be 30. I plan to have a minor freakout when I arrive at that scary, terrifying age. I plan to be doing something I love or doing nothing with someone I love. 

If you could be anywhere in 7 seconds, where would you be?

New Zealand. A plane across the world in 7 seconds? Sign me up. 

What is your biggest pet peeve and how do you think that came about?

Arrogance. I think it came from my father. Everyone deserves to be confident, speak at the table and stand for their beliefs. But no one should think or feel that their position or opinion is better or superior than another. It’s just not cool. World peace, people. 

If you could only have one of either time, years or money, which would you choose?

I’m not sure what the difference is between time and years but I’d have to choose time. It sounds more romantic. And then I’d be able to travel throughout Asia and not use any of my PTO.

What would the color of your dream car be? (You don’t need to state the dream car)

Black. With a hint of glitter. Just a hint. 

If you had a pet giraffe, what would you name it?

Rooster.

What is the one non-physical quality you love about yourself and why?

My sense of humor. I can’t promise that I’m funny all the time. And there are moments when no one gets my jokes. But nonetheless, I always crack me up and there’s no harm in being your best audience. Audience of one. Thank you, thank you, I’ll be here for the rest of my life. 

Eleven Facts About Myself: 

  1. Sometimes I wonder what I would look like as a blond. It’s terrifying. Don’t do it. 
  2. I believe in fate. And perspiration. 
  3. My dream is to own my own company with my best friends. They know who they are.
  4. I love carbs in all forms. 
  5. I’m an only child AND a functioning member of society.
  6. Twitter overwhelms me but I give it a below average effort.
  7. My parents are the best people in my entire life. 
  8. Most emotional movies make me cry. Include 13 Going On 30 on that list. 
  9. I hate being wrong. 
  10. I love putting on my apron and baking a wonderfully decadent dessert.
  11. I believe public libraries are necessary for world peace. 

Nomination Time!

  1. Travel Junkie Photography
  2. Jess at Ordinary Girl, Extraordinary Dreamer
  3. Allie at Why Knot
  4. Allison at All Shook Up
  5. Evelyn and Steve at Wanderlets
  6. Hallie at Corals & Cognacs
  7. Small Town Girls, Midnight Trains
  8. Andrea at Cooking With A Wallflower
  9. Journey Around the World
  10. Natalia at Natalia Maks
  11. Beth at Egantargaryen 

Here are your eleven questions: 

  1. Why did you first start blogging?
  2. Who/what inspires your writing? 
  3. Name one of your favorite sunset/sunrise memories. 
  4. If you had a year off to travel the world, where would you go first?
  5. Where did the name of your blog come from? 
  6. If you could learn a new skill or language, what would it be?
  7. Describe your face in a haiku.
  8. Name three people who have changed you for the better. 
  9. Describe your best homemade meal. 
  10. What’s the title of your first novel? 
  11. What will your future self say when asked about his/her life? 

Thanks again!!!

*KKT

Juno: the #blizzardof2015 or #Snowmageddon2015

Posted in Thoughts, United StatesTagged , , , , , , , , 7 Comments

“It’s here! Winter Storm Juno’s First Heavy Snowfall Arrives.” -The Weather Channel 

The blizzard is here. From Boston to New York, wind whips along carless streets as last minute shoppers trudge home with the most necessary kitchen staples. Eggs. Bread. Milk. Beer. Schools and universities have closed for tomorrow. Travel bans are in place and public transportation has shut down.The snow, which started as light flurries in the morning, increased steadily and by early afternoon most offices in NYC had sent their employees home. Since I was never put on the company wide e-mail chain, I missed the important memo and went home an hour later than necessary. But that’s just the kind of dedicated employee I am. From the office to the streets and back at home, it seemed everyone was talking about the #blizzardof2015.

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View from the office

And now? Peeking outside of my little Astoria apartment window, I see

…not much. 

Apparently the worst is yet to come. My roommates are in bed asleep, hoping a winter wonderland will await them in the morning. Nothing better than a “work from home” kind of Tuesday. Daina, my dear roommate, faced the crowds of the local grocery store and we now have days worth of delicious chicken tortellini soup. Our stash of red wine, while depleting rapidly should last another couple of days. And tonight our little group of four (Daina, Megan, Sam and I) sat around the coffee table playing Jenga and watching The Bachelor on TV like any normal group of people preparing for the worst storm of their lives. 

All of this–the shopping, the wine, the food, the great company–reminded me of the evenings spent in Northampton around our wood stove. I remember Nemo and Hurricane Sandy, holed up in 38 Henry St. with good friends and a cozy home. The Nor’easter of November 2012? I blogged about cookies and Election Cake. This year, I bravely attempted smitten kitchen recipe for Salted Carmel Brownies:

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Did I use a plastic spoon to stir my homemade caramel sauce, successfully melting white plastic into my browning sugar? Maybe, maybe not. But my multiple attempts at melting sugar and 9pm dash to the grocery story for parchment paper seemed like small prices to pay for the delicious dessert that eventually came out of the oven. My stomach is full, my head is sleepy and my heart is full knowing I have a snow day for the first time in a long while. 

During the 11:00pm news, a politician warned people to stay inside since people who fall down on the sidewalks may be invisible to emergency crews. Invisible. Refinery29 has some tips for ladies needing a list of things to do during their snow day including lounging in pjs, catching up on reruns and fitting in a squat workout. Swimsuit season is coming.And me? I’ll wake up in the morning, open my window shades and hope to be dazzled by the early morning brilliance of snow on a January day. I’ll try to clean the house and answer those pesky e-mails but hating tying myself down to “productivity.” Plus there is online shopping to do since the bf’s birthday is coming up way too fast so tonight I’m just thankful for newsworthy blizzards…and Amazon Prime. 

Stay warm. 

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On Finding Permanence

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I know life is too hectic when returning a friend’s phone call or e-mail feels like a chore. After work it seems there is always something to do or someone new to see. Most nights, I return home with just enough energy to flop on the couch before dragging myself to bed and planning out the next 24 hours. What am I going to eat for lunch? My weekends too are filled with movies and parties and new bars to try. I’m spending money left and right, quite the opposite of my traveling days.

IMG_2423Today, my boss informed me that they extended my contract for another month. The full 90 days. And that feels like a step in the right direction. A step toward permanence. And here in this city–when the R train switches to express or doesn’t run at all, when the cloudless sky turns instantly to snow or rain, and when finding time to do your laundry is the hardest task of the month–permanence isn’t all that easy to come by. IMG_2419

Not that I’ve always been a fan of permanence. Traveling abroad felt quite the opposite. Every day it seemed like I was staying in a different hostel, eating meals with different people, and learning to say hello in different tongues. As travelers, my new friends and I would laugh in the face in permanence and in those sad souls who had to go to the same job and sit in the same room with the same people each day. How did they survive with such a steady routine? Their lives seemed so small, devoid of color and true adventure that we proudly displayed as badges on our backpacks and in our journaled words. But in the month and a half since I’ve moved to New York, I’ve begun to understand what I scoffed at on the road. I realize how much I’ve craved some kind of rhythm and familiarity. A place to hang my clothes. A neighborhood I can navigate alone. I cling to my friends and can’t imagine my transition would have been possible without them. Small moments have become so important–dinner with my boyfriend once a week, hugs from my roommates after a particularly long day, the stranger who picked up my glove as I got on the subway– all bringing life’s blurriness back into focus. Small moments and a library card. IMG_2407

During my first week in Astoria, I walked to the Queens Library to get a set of books and dive headfirst into reading again. It felt like the right place to start. I had a grocery store, a pharmacy and now, a library. But when I arrived, the kind grandmother-ly woman at the front desk informed me that I needed to have verification of my name and address. No such luck. I left dejected and empty handed. Since then, I’ve been reading books that the former roommate had left and honestly don’t know if I can handle another young love romance novel. Sorry Nick Sparks. 

But this evening weeks later, I returned to the library with my paycheck stub in hand and barely containable excitement. I handed my paperwork over with a flourish and I signed my name on the dotted line. Holding my prized possession tightly, I walked up and down the shelves and smiled as if I was greeting long lost friends. Here were the stories I’d been waiting to read. Here was the knowledge, in plays and travel books, that I couldn’t wait to get my hands on. And here, in this small piece of plastic, was another small sign that I was finally proving my residence in a place that still feels so very new. IMG_2426

Another step toward permanence. Not forever perhaps. But at least for a couple weeks. Then I can always renew. 

“Christmas snuck up on me this year…”

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Rockefeller Center!
Rockefeller Center!

I heard this as a child countless times during the final weeks of the year. School break began in cheers and goodbye hugs, evenings went from cold to colder and Christmas Eve was suddenly upon us. I heard my parents and my friends’ parents commiserating with each another as they frantically shopped at the grocery store and the mall. How could this be? I remember being incredibly confused by the lackluster sentiment. How could something so amazing–Christmas tree, lights, presents, cookies!!–possible sneak up on adult people…given this holiday occurred at the same time, on the same day, each year?

For me, Christmas was always about tradition and anxious anticipation. I salivated over the press cookies (dough that was never quite the right temperature) and waited until we unpacked the decorations so I could spin around the living room with the little nutcracker, imagining I was Clara, just minutes before the Rat King appeared. I balanced my time between wishing for a white Christmas and adding last minute items to my present list. My dad and I had a yearly date to trek out into the snow until we found the perfect tree or our toes froze, whichever came first. I distinctly remember one evening in December when the newspaper published a free pamphlet full of music and lyrics for holiday cheer-spreading carolers. I sang every one from my spot at the kitchen table while my mom prepared candied orange rinds in thin, brightly colored stripes of sticky heaven. 

Those Christmases, before I had money to buy presents or fully understood that Santa wasn’t real, still live somewhere within me. I can still close my eyes and transport myself back to a stomach full of hot chocolate, listen to Mom read holiday books on the couch and smell the freshly cut tree. But now, I finally understand the phrase that I found so perplexing as a child:

“Christmas snuck up on me this year.”

Bryant Park
Bryant Park

I have regrettably become the girl who both started and finished Christmas shopping on December 21st in a rushed bag-flying whirlwind, weaving between 14th and 23rd Street amongst other New York procrastinators. And let me tell you, I was not alone. Jobs. Responsibilities and daily dinner preparation. Junk mail, attempted dusting and laundry. Any and all of these things now fill the space I had a child, space I used to fill by pestering my mom to bake just ONE more type of cookie or asking my dad what he bought me for Christmas as he tried to watch the football game. I’ve made the switch from counting down the minutes to wishing the calendar pages could turn just a little bit slower. 

So tonight, I decided (before packing for home) that I needed to bake banana bread, blast some holiday tunes and remember why I love this season so much. I don’t want to be the grownup who worries more about the gifts still unwrapped and the holiday cookie calories already consumed than the time they spent in the warm company of family and friends. I think the winter season, regardless of the specific holiday, should be as much about giving thanks as giving presents or who gets to light the figgy pudding on fire. 

Macy's Window
Macy’s Window
The roomies
The roomies

Snow in the Big Apple

Posted in Thoughts, Traveled Places, United StatesTagged , , , , , , , 3 Comments

New Yorkers saw their first snowfall of the season on Wednesday and like true New Yorkers, they put up their black umbrellas and trudged on. It was my lunch break and, desperately in need of soup, I ventured out into the world of wintry wind and overcast skies. The afternoon bustle was no different that the mornings or late weekend nights and people moved along the sidewalk, hurrying on their way.

I found soup at a cafe just a couple blocks from the World Trade Tower and my City Hall subway stop. The hot, spicy broth warmed my stomach and when I left the cafe, the air was filled with fine, white flakes. I put up my bright red polka dotted umbrella and headed back to the office. My office in New York City.IMG_2206

How quickly life can change. For the first time in months, routine has reentered my life. Monday through Friday, I take the subway and read my Kindle through countless R stops from Queens to downtown Manhattan. Like millions of others, I have joined the ranks of employed commuters. In my neighborhood, the Astoria community plays holiday music from large speakers hung from tree branches over the sidewalk and in the evenings, lights gleam in green, red and gold over the busy streets. It’s a working holiday wonderland here in the Big Apple.

I’m still the girl who looks up at the skyscrapers in open-mouthed awe. I have not yet adjusted to starless skies, constellations hidden from view amidst the flashing advertisements and glowing signs. This city, filled with sky high promise of glamour and power, buzzes with an energy I’ve never known before. Despite the warning signs of my body (coughing, stuffy nose), I move on to the next holiday party and early morning shuffle. I’m the first to admit that I’ve been caught up in the constant flurry of movement and activity that is simultaneously intoxicating and nerve-racking.

Where has my mindfulness gone? With this season’s holiday spirit and growing list of un-purchased presents, maybe we all need to remind ourselves of our own “presence of mind”. This week I wish all of you some time to reflect, homemade candy cake brownies and an early bedtime.

Home (Sweet) Home

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On Monday night, Emirates Flight 250 from Milan Malpensa Airport landed safely in New York City at JFK. The city glittered in the crisp November evening and passengers unbuckled their seat belts in a chorus of clicks and clacks. Bags were removed from overhead bins and children, woken from their airborne sleep, cried and whimpered in their parents’ arms. I leaned my face against the glass of the airplane window and watched my reflection faint against the black tarmac. The eyes in the window formed tears which spilled into the orange traffic cones and blinking safety lights far beyond the well-lit cabin. I willed the plane back into the sky, wished a reversed path east over the Atlantic and a safe return back to Italy where the journey had begun three and a half months ago. My desperate pleas were in vain. I bundled up my belongings, powered on my phone, and joined the line of weary passengers as they exited the plane.

Ciao Milano

Three days have passed since then. The subtle awareness of returning to the United States happens unexpectedly in the most mundane ways. The waiters at the restaurant speak English. My computer and phone charger no longer require thick boxy adapters. My mornings are spent deciding what outfit I will wear, overwhelmed by the sheer number of clothes and shoes, before returning to my pjs and slippers. Most things–my parents’ house, my friends’ lives, the life I left– seem relatively unchanged and I catch myself wondering if this adventure was all just a dream. All that remains from my European excursion is an opened box of Turkish Delight and the small collection of dirty clothes still stuffed into dusty backpack in the living room.

P1060391But this life, the life back home, is filled with new and colorful sweets as well. This weekend I’m spending time exploring the new apartment in Queens and preparing for a job interview with a sustainability company in Manhattan. I missed my friends and still relish the luxury of texting them from the same time zone, catching up on promotions, new adventures and graduate school applications. They have welcomed me back with open arms as if no time as passed at all and it is these people I’ve returned to that make the loss of others somewhat easier to bear. P1060389

I’m baking again with a full kitchen at my disposal and countless pumpkin muffin recipes to try. I have a plethora of blog posts to write and newfound time to write them (thanks unemployment). And I have yet another city just waiting to be explored with a new wide-eyed, friendly, curious traveler self to take into this new chapter of my life. Maybe I’m not traveling across country lines at the moment but I’m still exploring every day.

Thank you, dear readers and dearer friends, for welcoming me home. And I’d be lying if I didn’t say that in some ways…

it is good to be back. 

Goodbye Turkey

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Dear Turkey,

I’m flying out of Istanbul tomorrow morning. I feel as if we’ve just met and it’s already time to say goodbye. I loved your ocean views in Bodrum and the orange trees in Turgutreis. I walked through your ancient ruins of Ephesus, Aphrodisia, Hierapolis, and Olympus. In your night, I hiked in the darkness to the eternal flame and in your morning, I rose above the earth in a hot air balloon. In your buses, I lost many hours of sleep. I hiked the trails of Cappadocia, learned new games and drank tea. Lots and lots of tea. You gave me the kindest strangers, the warmest homes, and the best breakfasts.

And now with a bulging backpack and a heavy heart, I will take an assortment of candies, spices, medallions and gifts back to my friends and family so they may experience part of your culture, history and love. Thank you.

Until we meet again,

K

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10 Steps: Turkish Breakfast

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I have enjoyed Turkish breakfast in a variety of settings. My first taste of this delicious daily tradition was in a pension in Bodrum. From there, I traveled 20km to Turgutreis to stay on an ecofarm where I tasted the most delicious homemade orange jam from the trees in the backyard. My next memorable breakfast was in the apartment of two college student who prepared the usual edibles including sides of “bitter honey” and freshly prepared stove top tomato and pepper chutney. Moving from Denizli to Olympus via Antayla, I once again tasted fresh oranges from trees on the property, this time simply cut into quarters and served. I’m in breakfast heaven.

10 Steps to Preparing a Turkish Breakfast

Every Turkish breakfast included at least one Turkish person who is warm and welcoming, ready to instruct you as to the proper way to begin one’s day. Do not overlook this essential ingredient. However, since not all of us are friends with Turkish people nor have the ability to fly at a moment’s notice to Istanbul, made do with the friends and family that you have readily available. 

Ingredients: orange trees, chickens, cheese, tomatoes, cucumbers, honey (local), bread/simit, jam (cherry preferably), salt and pepper (for the table), Turkish teapot, small bowls, Turkish teacups, plates etc.

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  1. Prepare the tea*. A day does not begin nor end without this steaming hot beverage. Drink at will. P1050559
  2. Go outside to your orange trees and pick some oranges. Cut oranges in slices for easy consumption or boil with sugar and cloves for a sweet, sticky jam.
  3. Collect the daily eggs from your chickens or sneak across the street to the friendly farmer for some of his/her eggs. Boil water for the hardboiled variety or fry in olive oil and sprinkle with cumin and paprika. IMG_1639
  4. Take an inventory of the cheese recently purchased from the market. Slice fresh feta into squares or triangles depending on your geometric preference.
  5. Wash fresh tomatoes and cucumbers and slice accordingly. 
  6. Slice fresh bread purchased earlier that morning from the bakery. Rip simit** into pieces or leave whole.
  7. Put various condiments into adorable little bowls for easy access.P1050564
  8. Place sliced bread and simit in a basket and set the table.
  9. Fill tea glasses for guests with sugar cubes on hand.
  10. Serve. Enjoy. Repeat daily for maximum smiles. 

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Notes:

*Tea is an essential part of Turkish culture. The most common teapots look like two metal containers stacked together. The bottom pot is filled with water and placed on the stove to boil. The second stacked pot is filled with tea leaves. As the water boils, the top pot steams the concentrated tea. To serve the tea, make a ratio (3:1) of boiling water and concentrated liquid in individual glasses. 

**Simit is a soft breadstick looped into a ring shape and covered with sesame seeds. Found at all cafes and bakeries.

Confusion in Numbers

Posted in College Graduate Problems, Europe, Thoughts, Traveled PlacesTagged , , , , , , , , , , 1 Comment

I spent the last ten days on the Greek island of Santorini, exactly six more days that I had originally planned. My trip was partly delayed due to the black sand beaches and the perfect weather. The connecting ferry to Turkey only ran three times a week and Thursday became Sunday, which became Tuesday all too fast. But my trip was also delayed because of the incredible group of travelers I met during my stay. This group of people seemed to be as captivated by the island as we were with one another and we spent every waking moment enjoying this little slice of paradise together.P1050189

The group, composed of Canadians, Australians, Germans, Philippinas, Haitians, Spanish, Greeks, Colombians, Indians and Americans, all shared a love of travel. And in this love, we also shared a mutual desire for some change from our lives back home. Three women (including myself) quit their jobs to travel alone. One woman spent a month in a meditation retreat and an Australian girl longed to return to Santorini instead of attending university in the fall. Chanae, the person I met in Athens and followed to the island, hadn’t been back to Australia in almost two years and had no clear date for returning home. I felt as if we were all searching for something–an answer perhaps–without clearly defining the questions at hand.  

Some travelers want to see the world. For them, the questions are simple: “How can I travel forever?” or “How can I increase my maximum vacation time?” But for others, I think the search is much less defined. Will I find someone to love me? What should I do with the rest of my life? These questions will not be found within stamped passport pages or months overseas. But that doesn’t mean we can’t try. P1050161

One evening, I found myself wandering the streets of Oia before meeting up with the group for the famous sunset. The day had been full of sightseeing and my skin was tight under a layer of sea salt and sweat from my morning swim and afternoon hike. I was dehydrated and my legs threatened to give out as I trudged up a rocky path to get a better view of the coast. 

P1050437Down the hill and to the right, I spotted a car. It had been unoccupied for quite some time based on the model and the thick layer of rust underneath the faded blue paint. No wheels remained and someone has piled large rocks onto the driver’s seat and under the hood. On the back left end of the car in scratched white lettering, the words What is life? had been written. P1050438I sat in the fading light of the Santorini sun for a long time staring out to sea and contemplating the words of the car. I thought about this new group of friends: our morning yoga during the sunrise on Perissa Beach and the nights spent comparing cultures over wine and ouzo shots. I thought about my imminent move to New York City and my undefined relationships with people back home. I thought about the pressure I put on my European exploration to conquer some great internal unknown I had yet to identify.

P1050267Despite my desire to travel alone, I secretly craved a community of people who loved exploring the world as much as I did. I wanted to find others who would rather shoulder a backpack and book a flight than map out their next logical career path. And in every hostel in every country, I found those such people. They, like the car, didn’t have the answers to life’s big questions either. And that was something…

For I’d rather spend time contemplating the meaning of life with equally confused people than trying to figure it out all alone. P1050150