It's all greek to me. Literally.

Finishing out my season with a few trips in Crete has been such an incredible blessing. I have yet to go to an area that Backroads travels and not be entirely impressed, but this has been even more than I imagined. I am surrounded by amazing coleaders, new friends and contagious love for life and energy in the culture.

It has been a whirlwind from the second I got off the plane so instead of trying to recount actities, I will just pull out some highlights from along the way.

• The Greek people love to go on strike. They also do not like to wait in line. Probably secondary to the fact that Crete was an occupied island for over a thousand years by unwelcomed forces, the people here actually see most laws as voluntary: seat belts, stop signs, paying your taxes. All just mere suggestions.


• Every night around sunset (or often noon and onward into the evening) all the "Yayas" (Grannies) pull up a chair on the stoop and sit outside watching the people go by. Many others stop to join them, young and old alike and it is a clear visual for the importance placed on relaxation here. They love to relax.


• In contrast to their afternoons, their celebrations and dancing is extremely acrobatic and a real demonstration of athleticism! We added a "cretan party" to the trip agenda here and I feel privileged to have seen something so rooted in tradition and history. More to come on this later...


• Trees grow in the middle of roads. Big trees. Straight through the asphalt. Ok...not everywhere, but this one does.


• It has been so dry here. I am blown away by the different colors a dry climate can produce. In the early morning and early evening in particular. The soft light and rose glow cast on all the mountains backdropping the towns and even the dry grasses in the fields can look slightly rusty.


• The FOOD. It is neverending and so delicious! Whoever invented the mediterranean diet is full of crap. Yes, there is plenty of olive oil, but there is also cheese and yogurt everywhere and every meal seems to last hours. (Clearly cheese is one of my greatest vices in life. I just can't say no. I am addicted.) Not to mention there are 6 billion and 10 ways to eat and use phylo dough and every meal ends with Raki and dessert "on the house".


• The radio station DJs talk over the songs. All. The. Time. When uninterupted the music is beautiful, but as it is an iPod or mass amounts of CDs are mandatory.


• You can not flush toilet paper down the toilet. That's right. I said it. Every square has to go into the waste bin.


• Trucks drive around with PA speakers on the top of their hood selling whatever it is they have that day in a moderately monotone voice. "Fish, potatoes, corn, dowry items" (ie linens and weavings)...anything you want you can get from a moving truck. Just flag 'em down.


• Goats run rampant. They are on the roads, on the cliffs, in the trees. Everywhere.


• They paint the tree trunks white to protect them from ants. The paint is not a pesticide, but ants apparently will not cross white. The color just messes with their little ant heads.


• They like to shoot guns. (Don't worry mom - I AM SAFE) They mostly do target practice with the road signs when no one is around, but it is always amusing when you have to explain to a guest why they missed the turn because half of the town name is now replace by one big silver "O". Minor change in spelling.


• The music promotion posters are AWESOME. I can not even do them justice with a description. The are timeless- in that many of the artists look like they belong in the 80s. Mustaches galore, posing with their lyres on one knee matching their one eyebrow up. Very serious.


• I also took a little fall two weeks ago. First trip in Crete. Whoop whoop. Long story short: the roads get pretty slippery here so I did my best superman impression and then broke my fall with my face. For my 30th birthday, I got a neeeeeeeeeeeeeeeew CHIN! Hanna was sweet enough to come to the hospital with me and when I requested the plastic surgeon on call the man in the button down shirt and jeans chuckled and said, "Today, I will be a plastic surgeon." Reassuring...really. 9 stitches, 3 layers, 1.5 weeks with 3 follow up visits. 5 euro. Turned out pretty good if I do say so myself. Good work for a guy playing doctor.

Stow Away Style

Keeping with the theme, I took advantage of another week off for more adventures with great women.

3 girls + 3 bikes + 1 generous boat captain = stow away awesomeness

We spent a couple nights sleeping on the top deck. Got rained on around 3am of the second night. We also caught a LOT of z's while stashed away down under with guests milling about and Brad and Dave directing them which way to go and what to do. No responsibility. It can be incredibly liberating.


We snuck in a few rides on a couple different islands. On Brac we rode through the fire zone. (1/10 of the island was recently burned down by a forest fire started by some tourists' campfire or stove. Truly unfortunate and preventable.) We also made it to the highest point in the adriatic just in time to descend during a thunder and lightning storm. On Korcula we went in search of new routes and discovered mostly dirt roads. No regrets. Gorgeous views that I have never seen before. Lost beyond belief and so happy to be with people who smile despite stress. Chatting away indifferent to supposed danger or fear. Roll with it.

We were force fed a ridiculous amount of fish by the captain and first mate. With little complaint other than full bellies. We celebrated the birthday of our good friend and van support extraordinaire with cake and skopa.

There was more than one occassion when I was able to take a look around and think (once again), "how did I get so lucky?" Life is incredibly beautiful and I know that now. It feels good to be back on track with gratitude and balance. Happy to be here. Happy to have wonderful people around me. Happy for the people in my life who can't be here but love and support me all the same. Happy to be in the moment and looking forward to the future all at once.

MORE.

What's so special about the Dolomites?

I recently took advantage of a week off and headed to the Dolomites for one of the greatest reunions in recorded history.

I first met Beth in a dingy office back when we were trying to save the planet from global warming. I knew instantly that she would make my time there a little more worthwhile. Every day she would bring endless smiles and her uncrushable spirit to work. I don't know if she raised a single dollar for the cause, but it didn't really matter because the only thing she was counting was how many hugs she could get from strangers on a daily basis. Every person who worked for her loved her, including me.

What I did not know at the time was how far reaching this universal love extends. I am confident that every person she has ever come in contact with is forever changed for the better. Beth is fun, inspiring, courageous and so so so beautiful. Inside and out. She defines optimistic. "Come on...get on the hope train!"

One of my first memories of Marylynn is at a house party. In my house. It was the "tots, shots and astronauts" party and she was the solar system...or maybe it was the big dipper. Either way, she owned it. She is one of those girls who is always down for an adventure. Biking, camping, dancing...she'll be there.

I can hear her contagious laughter echoing in my mind. She is honest and inquisitive and has a very sincere way of listening. She pays close attention and is truly interested. At risk of sounding like a Nona- that is a rare trait these days. She is a breath of fresh air.

I like travelling by myself. I like being able to wander freely. I like to choose the path I want to roam without considering anyone else's feelings. I like taking pictures along the way and having no concept of time. I like meeting new friends and I know that it is far less intimidating to approach an individual instead of a group.

In 2007, I reached a point where I had been travelling by myself for the greater part of 4 months. I was at the top of a mountain where I sat taking in a beautiful sunset- by myself. For the first time in a long time I thought, "I really wish I had someone to share this with". In that moment, the oohs and aahs seemed a bit muffled by the stillness of the air. If you shriek with glee in the forest, but no one is around to hear it...well, you know how it goes.

Fast forward to 2011 and I find myself sitting on top of a mountain with two awe-inspiring women. Two people I am lucky to call friends. It really makes me think about how far my life has come and how much closer I am to being the person I want to be. Among many others, these two have helped shape that change.

It was generally just good for my aching soul. Some good time with the girls was just what the doctor ordered and a perfect transition back into the Backroads world away from home.

Some favorites...

- Seeing Beth's buzzed head for the first time in real life and hearing her little squeel at the airport. Finding Marylynn outside my hotel room at 6 in the morning already jumping up and down.

- The very first day of the trip I left my favorite jacket on a bus. I beat myself up for a while and then finally decided to let it go, but Beth never gave up hope and by some miracle the last day of the trip we got my jacket back. Hope train.

- The zipline at the playground across the street.

- Trampolines at trailheads.

- New jaw-dropping views around every bend. Rifugio destinations- Puez Hutte. Dumplings and apple strudle. "I'll give you 10 minutes". Witnessing the first (not-so-good) grappa tasting. "I think I want one of those hats".

- Dance parties at the ampitheatre. Carolina Chocolate Drops.

- Watching my Portland friends meet my Backroads friends. Scott and Lynn jumped right in for the hugs and love.

- Gondolas, chair lifts and more rifugios. Knodels!!!! Oh my. More Knodels. More Grappa.

- Watching Beth skip down the trail ahead of me and Marylynn take photos behind me while catching up with dear friends. So grateful for these people in my life.

- Dinner in Fie all Schillar. Best tiramisu EVER. This is what happens when Italy and Germany make babies.

- The Zebra Hostel. KIDDING. It's awful. Don't ever go there!

For more eye candy, check out my flickr here and here.

The Ups and Downs

Several years ago I talked to a friend about working internationally and she said, "It will be the highest of highs and the lowests of lows you could possibly experience". She was so right that I think of that saying often.

This year has been incredible...and challenging. The places I go are still exciting and new, but somehow more familiar the second time around and that breeds a certain level of complacency. I feel like I am still out here bursting balloons, but now my tack is just a little more dull.

Spring was so filled with energy and excitement and love for the job and my friends here. Then some big changes happened. I was thinking about my family a lot. I had a packed work schedule and very little time to relax. My friends came and went and the time seemed to go by too quickly...I want them back! I want my little slice of home to stay with me everywhere I go!

It was wearing me down and I knew it. I was exhausted and incapable of creative outlet or anything else that would involve effort. I just wanted to sleep and GO HOME. I just wanted to go home. My brain was constantly torn between doing a job I love in places I love to explore or going home and finding another option.

I knew that I was not appreciating things the same way I did last year and I was mad at myself for it. I felt ungrateful and that made me feel guilty. How could I be so spoiled?

I needed to refresh. Feel love. Find my energy again. So I went home for a little taste of the normal. Then we found the woods...far away from cobblestone streets and bell towers. We had dinner with my sister and Nate and had a campfire in the backyard.

One of my favorite memories was going out with Dylan to shoot the Chris King Gourmet Century. Ironically this ride is all about combining passions and enjoying the things you love. We collaborated on this little photo project and it was just what I needed. It was an outlet for pent up creativity, but also relaxed and so familiar- driving around shotgun. Sometimes it is just the little things.

It is one of the hardest things to convey: this is not an easy job. It is not easy to be far away from home, working long hours full of manual labor and exhausting, neverending customer service. But it is also a GREAT job. A fun job. I do not want to feel like I am desensitized to the things I love most here nor do I want to feel like I am complaining about a job that I love, but I can not pretend it is perfect either. No job is perfect and putting on an act is exhausting.

Just know that if I am not writing or taking pictures or calling as much as I want, the love is still there. I am happy with what I am doing, but sometimes I don't have the energy to write the words. Sometimes I am just treading water trying to make my way back to the place where I am now. Happy.

Look out the window

Last year I flew over 30,000 miles. This year I am on track for that and more. My first trip to France last May I had butterflies in my stomach doing double back flips with excitement, but then over time travel time became more of a chore. It is just a means to get to the next destination. And then I remembered to look out the window...How could I forget? This world is far too beautiful to not pay attention.

That being said, if I had a super power it would still be teleporting. Brink!

The best of the best

As I have discussed many times before, Ireland is one of my absolute favorite places on earth. The BEST. So clearly if 2 great girls from Norway and a hot stud from the states come to visit me in Ireland at the same time....well that's bound to be the highlight of my season.

All three were absolutely fantastic at going with the flow and consistently game for anything. We hung out in town while it was pouring rain, chased sheep, and walked to Killarney on the last day. Well, almost to Killarney. We did take a "jaunting car" that picked us up just past the cascade but that only shaved off a few miles and we had already finished 15. Whoop whoop! Git on lil pony!

I love having that little slice of familiarity somewhere out of context. Ireland has quickly become a second home to me so having some of the people who molded Portland into my HOME home see my second home...it feels like things always come full circle.

One of the greatest things about the whole week was the bad weather. I am so glad it was miserable out. It alleviated all the pressure to see and do and instead we could just be. What a gift. We did not ride as much as we wanted or go see as many things as we had hoped, but it just proves that no matter where you are in the world, sometimes the best thing to do is just lay on the couch and watch a movie.

Besides, how else would it get so green? More shots from the Dylan & Co. invasion can be found here.

Ireland in a nutshell

Where has the time gone?

I am en route back to Portland and while I am incredibly excited to get back and absolutely thrilled that I am goign to be in my house where I can sleep in my own bed TONIGHT, I am also a little sad. I'll be coming back to Ireland, just for the day and then I'm off to Croatia again. It feels like I just got here yesterday and now my time here is done and gone for the year.

Pete McCarthy wrote "Is it possible to have some kind of genetic memory of a place where you've never lived but your ancestors have? Or am I just a sentimental fool?"

My thoughts exactly Pete. I have never fully understood my fascination or connection with Ireland, but from my very first trip (10 days back in 2002 with two wonderful friends), I have always felt absurdly comfortable there.

I'm sure it started with Oma. Almost every Irish granny that I meet makes me think of Oma. They somehow have the same adventurous soul, peppered with a mental toughness that can only come from great challenges in life and topped with a slightly disheveled appearance. They are smart. Still sharp as tacks with piercing wit well into their 70s and 80s. I guess that's the irish humor in general, but the grannys are no exception. Even if they are not the ones making the jokes, you can rarely frazzle them.

It extends beyond the grannys too. I love that every time I ask our local walking guide a question I get a "smart" reply from him first. I love that the owner of a five star hotel where we stay rushed us out the back door to help us escape a guest who was "absolutely mad". More like forced us out the back door. I love that we can trust every single one of our subcontractors to go above and beyond with our guests. Most recently one went home and looked up in the government archives the family history for one of our guests then showed up at brunch with the fruits of his labor- not looking for any acknowledgement, just excited to help out.

I love the GREEN. And the blue and the red and the purple and yellow. All the bright colors of the towns we pass through and all the moss covered trees in the "four-est" that remind me of hiking at home.

I love the big swooping curves of Healy's Pass and Caha Pass on a bicycle.

I love feeling connected to the earth and being surrounded by others who seem to prioritize the little things in the world higher than wealth and material items. They sincerely care about people. It is refreshing. They know your name and your story...in a good way.

Last night as I sat talking to our local guide- and friend- he said it is always harder for them to say goodbye to us because they never know if we will get sent back. It is true.

I can never be sure if I will get sent back. Here is hoping.