12.12.12

I don't know about you, but I got pretty excited when the clock changed to 11:11 on 11/11/11.  Despite that I'm nearly 27 years old, I still find myself making a wish when I catch the clock rolling to 11:11. Call me hopeful or call me strange, it brings me comfort knowing all of the digits are the same.

I get my superstition trait from Pago (my grandpa), who was an old soul that subscribed to his own way of thinking. Despite being catholic, I'd say his spirituality was more akin to the thinking of ancient philosophers and conspirators than the Priests who delivered Mass to the little Catholic church in Warsaw. Pago was the first person I ever heard talk about the prophet Nostradamus, long before the History Channel documentaries came around.

Although it's certainly subject to debate, there has been much talk about how Nostradamus has predicted many of the world's events through his prophecies. After 9/11, there were eerie things that seemed to predict the WTC's collapse, and one of those was an excerpt from Nostradamus:

"In the City of God there will be a great thunder,
Two brothers torn apart by Chaos,
while the fortress endures, the great leader will succumb",
The third big war will begin when the big city is burning"
- Nostradamus 1654

Read into it as you wish.

Another famous prediction from Nostradamus was the end of the world on 12/21/12. This also happens to coincide with the end of the Mayan calendar, which leaves some skeptics (or crazies) thinking doomsday is almost here.

Since my birthday is on December 12th, that means my 28th birthday on 12/12/12 is going to be epic. Not only do I get to celebrate consistency in numbers, but 9 days later the world is predicted to end. For those of you who I've already rambled on to about plans for a trip to South Africa to ring in my 28th year and celebrate the end of the world, consider this your official invitation. To those of you who I have not yet told about this trip, consider this your invitation too (if I haven't freaked you about enough with the Nostradamus stuff).

Think about it. South Africa will be lovely and warm in December, when winter is really starting to take shape in the northern hemisphere. If you can pull getting away in December right before the holidays, then you will practically not work for a month (if your company's vaca/holiday schedule is as stacked as mine at least). That's pretty much a sabbatical.

My plan is to fly into Johannesburg on December 10th, 2012, and fly out of Capetown on December 22. Twelve days of vacation for 12/12/12. I've already heard from some of you plan on going, so mark your calendars, in pen.

Let's do this.

Barcelona < 3

We could simply pack our bags
And catch a plane to Barcelona 'cause this city's a drag
I may take a holiday in Spain
Leave my wings behind me
Flush my worries down the drain
And fly away to somewhere new


But yet, Chicago is so much like Barcelona. 

Morocco, London, and the 4 year theory

I've been trying to write my Morocco blog post for two months now. Talk about some serious writer's block. If you'd like to read a well written, cohesive recap of the trip to Morocco, visit my friend Shannon's blog post. She does a fabulous job of covering the trip with every sensory experience.

As for my post, I think there are a few key things I learned on my trip to London and Morocco.

1. I (still) have an insatiable desire to transplant myself into a foreign country just to see what happens. If you know me, this has been a common theme (especially since last August). This trip showed me that there is nothing to be scared of if/when I move to a new country. People do it all the time, and they succeed, and they gain an incredible perspective on the world and themselves.

2. The type of people in who go through the above mentioned transition have a fearlessness to just go, just do, just be. This is the stuff that makes the world go round. You only live once, afterall, and nobody ever got anywhere on idle.

3. People need change. My new-found friend (who I met on my trip) shared with me a theory that every four years people go through a sense of restlessness that makes them want to change things in a big way. Think about it -- 4(ish) years of elementary, junior high and high school, then four years of college. Our society has groomed us to expect change every four years. Then what happens when we don't get it? I think there are two options - wreak havoc for the sake of wreaking havoc, or accept that things aren't changing and carry on in the day-to-day.

I'm at my 4 year mark. Something's on the horizon. Something big, I can feel it... Until then, I'll keep on going and doing the stuff that makes my little world go round. My current obsession is planning my 28th birthday, which falls on 12/12/12. I'm thinking it'll happen in South Africa. More to come.

On a serious note, to those affected by the Marrakesh terrorist attacks in late April, my heart goes out to you. I stood in the same area the attacks took place, just a few weeks before. Counting my lucky stars.

Baggage

I've had this reoccurring dream three times in the past few weeks about packing for my upcoming trip to London & Morocco. The dilemma is the same every time: do I pack a suitcase or a backpack?

Not once has my decision been made in the dream. And I've yet to make up my mind in real life either.

On one hand, the suitcase provides a sophisticated, sturdy and structured unit to carry your belongings in. It follows your lead pretty nicely, but can really get in the way when you really want it to be flexible. It's practical and predictable, but unless your suitcase has polka dots, it's pretty boring.

On the other hand, there's the backpack (not like a book bag). It comes with secret compartments, allows you to fasten additional bags, water bottles, etc. to the outside. It fits perfectly on your shoulders, and comes with additional support around your waist. Although it is still heavy and bulky, once you put it on it's weight is well-distributed, and it doesn't tie your hands down like pulling a suitcase does. Yet, the backpack's flexibility is somewhat juvenile, and is indicative of a nomad never settling in one place long enough to unpack. It lacks the stability of the suitcase.

As someone who once spent a summer living out of a backpack, I admit I'm a big fan. There's an inexplicable (and kind of weird) bond you develop with a fabric container as you wander across foreign territory. It provides security knowing that it is literally attached to you when you're in high-theft areas, and doubles as a pillow when you have a long train ride or layover. Knowing that you are carrying all of your possessions on your back makes you feel free and like you are equipped to go anywhere.

I told a friend of mine about my reoccurring packing dilemma dream. He said it must be a metaphor for bigger, more important decisions in life. I think he may be right.

For now, the verdict is still out.

UPDATE: I went with the backpack. In every sense of the meaning, and I'm really glad I did. 

Rock Chalk Jayhawk

Does it count if my travel blog includes trips to places I used to call home? I hope so, because I'm writing about Lawrence anyway.

A couple weeks ago, I made my annual trip back to Lawrence, Kansas to catch a basketball game in one of the most incredible venues known to man, Allen Field House. Go ahead, roll your eyes... not another freakish Kansas fan, right? Well, you're sort of right. If you've never been there, you won't be able to fully understand it, so I'll try to break it down.

Allen Field House is about two things: tradition and the love of basketball.

Students camp out on air mattresses and sleeping bags for days waiting to get good seats, and during the games the crowd cheers so loud that your ears will ring when you leave. You will inevitably leave with newspaper confetti stuck to you because the student body has a tradition of "making it rain" during the team intro by shredding up pieces of the Daily Kansan newspaper and tossing it in the air when each player's name is called. The newspaper confetti covers the entire floor of the student section, and the University doesn't care one bit. Why? Because it's tradition. Makes me wonder how many of my tuition dollars contributed to confetti cleanup.

Allen Field House is one of those places that brings chills down your spine. Hearing the Rock Chalk chant, which admittedly sounds like a bunch of chanting monks, will make the hairs on the back of your neck stand up. And as an alum, hearing the Field House sing the alma mater gets me misty every time. Not to mention, the Jayhawk on the basketball court is bigger than the one of the football field.

And then before the game, the place erupts into love and madness. This year's intro goes something like this:

This year, KU got booted from the no. 1 ranking the Tuesday prior to my trip. Thanks a lot, K-State. Nevertheless, the boys showed up to play against Colorado, and ended up winning by a large margin, which of course I don't remember. We were in good company at the game too. A bunch of players from the 2003 team (where we lost the National Championship to Syracuse), and the 2008 team (where Mario Chalmers sunk a last minute three to put us into overtime for the championship win) were at the game cheering on the newest class of Jayhawk greats. Wayne Simean, Jeff Graves, Aaron Miles, Cole Aldrich, Sherron Collins, Mario Chalmers and Xavier Henry all spent their afternoons in the Field House.

After the game, I headed to Free State Brewery to dine on some delicious local eats and drink a few of the fine brews they have to offer, because "without beer, things do not seem to go as well..." I'd have to agree with that statement.

I also tried to hit up all my other favorite stops on Mass St., but there's never enough time. I was just happy to be surrounded by hippies and basketball all weekend. It was heaven.

Gone Skiin'

After barely making it out of Chicago before Snowpocalypse 2011 hit, I successfully survived my first skiing experience since high school in Lake Tahoe.

I grew up learning to ski on the glorious slopes the Midwest has to offer, and spent a couple weeks in Colorado as a kid enrolled in ski school. Other than that, I hadn't done a ton of skiing, so I expected to be a total mess on the slopes. Turns out, I picked it up pretty quickly and ended up making it down some black diamonds before the trip was over!

The majority of my time was spent at Heavenly in South Lake Tahoe. My first day went something like this:

Day two I graduated to blues and explored different slopes Heavenly had to offer. My favorite slope was the Galaxy, which I later learned is where Sonny Bono died. Of course I'd have more fun frolicking in the face of death... The view of the lake and surrounding mountains made just about every run a scenic adventure.

Day four included a side trip to Kirkwood, which is more of a the local option when it comes to ski resorts in the area. We were there on a Saturday, and it was hardly crowded. Kirkwood got some 25 feet of snow in the last month, but it started to get pretty mushy toward the afternoon. Except at the top... where it was soooo cold and windy. It was miserable, and made even the brutal days of the Chicago winters seem tropic. 

After three days trying to keep up with a girl who grew up skiing the Austrian Alps, I mustered up enough courage to make it down a black diamond at Kirkwood. All smiles at the top! (Insert helmet joke here).

My reality check came when I arrived in Chicago after five great days of skiing, warm weather, good company of friends old and new (even some B-towners), hot alcoholic beverages, and a little gambling. I practically needed to snow shoe my way to find my car back in Chicago. It still hasn't moved... and I don't think it's going to until April. Yuck.

I can't wait until Skip Trip 2012!

So Incredibly Overdue...

Ahhh travel blog, how I've missed you so. It's been since 2007 that I've contributed anything to you, but you have not been forgotten. Every so often you take me back to a time and a place that was full of curiosity, intrigue, adrenaline and damn good fun.

It's not that I haven't taken any trips since we last met, but these trips haven't shaken up my reality enough to inspire me to write about them. Given, in 2010 almost every flight I boarded was booked with 24 hours of the departure time (how's that for spontaneous?), so needless to say I didn't have much time to think and/or process the travel event as a whole. If 2010 taught me anything, it is to take your vacation early in the year.

I feel like now is a better time than ever to jump back on the travel (and blogging) bandwagon. A handful of interesting people from different countries, cultures and different destinations have come into my life past few months, and it’s really reinforced my love and longing for the unfamiliar that comes with traveling. Some of these were people moved from abroad to the U.S., some were acquaintances turned friends who moved elsewhere in the world, and I also met the first person I know to visit all 50 U.S. states (and he was only 26). All of their stories are quite impressive and have reconfirmed my need to get out there and see things again for myself.

Today, I booked three trips.

One to Lawrence, Kansas to watch my beloved Jayhawks play a basketball game. I’m sure an outsider would not think this seemed like a glamorous trip, but I am beyond excited to go back. This is where it all started for me… in a classroom in the J-school where my kickass instructor told me about this study abroad program she taught at in Italy. A couple semesters later, there I was living in Italy doing the same study abroad program, meeting some of the coolest people I’ve ever met, drinking amazing wine, weekending in southern Italy, skinny dipping in the Mediterranean, sunbathing on the beaches of Barcelona, Nice, Monaco, Sorrento… oh and let’s not forget the time where we ripped shots from a bottle of Jack Daniels as we circled the Isle of Capri on a private boat tour (we may be cultured, but I never said we were classy). Point is, my parents did a great job of opening my eyes to tons of different cultures, but this was my first real trip on my own. I liked it so much that I went back the next summer to find out what the rest of Europe was like. I’m ready to get back there…

Which brings me to the second (and third) trip I booked today… London, with a side trip to Morocco. After my bad week kept getting worse, a business acquaintance turned supposed-to-be-flatmate, turned good friend invited me to visit her (and what was supposed to be my) flat in London. Just so happens she was looking for a friend to go to Morocco with for a few days too. Bonus! I’m super stoked to get back to London, the place I thought I’d be calling home right now, and see what I’m missing out on. I’m also super stoked to get my first passport stamp from the continent of Africa!

But I won’t get to London, Agadir and Marrakesh if I don’t make it home in one piece from skiing in Tahoe. I leave on a ski trip with a random (or is it?) group of people on Tuesday. I hesitate to call all of them friends yet, but I’m certain by the end of the trip they all will be friends for sure. I haven’t been skiing out west since I was little so wish me luck! And thanks to the Northwestern Alumni Association for opening up their ski trip to alums, their family AND friends, otherwise I wouldn’t be going.

So, my dear travel blog, I promise not to neglect you for 3-4 year increments ever again. And, to myself, I promise not to neglect the need for exploration that long either.


Compare where you are to where you want to be and you'll get nowhere.