Vancouver, eh?

“…I’ll be sure to include some photos from our Parisian escapade in the next update. At this rate, I should be writing that by the time I get to Brazil.”

– quote from last blog post, September 2013

At this rate, I should be writing my obituary so that I finish it in time for my funeral.

I’ve had a lot of adventures since I last updated. Since I’m already condemned and six months behind, here are the highlights:

– Gibraltar. Wow. Monkeys, steep cliffs, 30000 British-accented people on a very big rock, and miles of Hitler-proof war tunnels.

– The United Nations. I listened to the Human Rights Council in French, I met a diplomat from Morocco who specialized in educational issues, and I wound up in the photos of a student group from China.

– France. Bought new PJ pants, gave a complete Tour de Paris de Bullshit for my friends, ate way too many Nutella crepes, drank coffee like there was no tomorrow, and discovered that Le Havre is the ugliest city I’ve ever been to.

– Ireland. I went off on my own to the West Coast to stay in a tiny fisherman town, I met the most handsome man on a train to Dublin, and I fell in love with hard apple cider.

– Morocco. Drank mint tea, bought leather shoes, stood on Roman ruins, practiced French, found beauty in the middle of no where, and toured a mosque with a foot-ball stadium roof.

– Ghana. Learned to surf, visited slave dungeons, debated the morality of touring sites of places like “slave dungeons,” avoided eating food, and slept in a bungalow on the beach.

– South Africa. Volunteered in an orphanage, went to Robbin Island, bought Mandela’s book of quotes at Robbin Island, celebrated a dear friend’s birthday, swam with penguins, and got caught in a protest on housing rights.

– Brazil. Took a bus to the middle of no where and found heaven on earth, ate the best acai bowl x4, went hiking down a river bed and swam in rock pools with three fantastic young men, climbed a mountain in a skirt, and learned that a bar of soap deserves a lot of praise.

– Cuba. Drank, smoked, danced.

– Quebec. Stayed for 22 hours, cried when  I saw snow, renewed my status in Canada, and then left.

– California. Christmas, jingle bells, gained five pounds, turkey, chocolate, more turkey, cousins, family, gifts, zip lining, cave diving, and experienced my fair share of ship withdrawals.

– Oregon. Drove down to visit friends, spun out in the snow, was saved by a trucker, saw Portland shut down, regretted my shoe choice, and laughed with very good company.

– Vancouver. House sitting, final semester of school, applying for jobs like an addict, realized I’m actually a by-the-definition coffee addict, turned 22, went downtown and celebrated with pizza and beer, realized it’s hard to get a real job, so I settled with teaching boys how to play sports in an after school program, and proceeded to laugh at myself every time I pretended to know how to play sports.

Phew. Now we’re all up to date. See? There’s no way that I could have written blog posts for that: way too much, way too little time.

Emily (or, as I learned in Russia: Змили Жоан Змак)



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