The Songs that Take me Back Down Those Forgotten Roads

Many things bring back memories but for me, the one thing that can conjure up any memory, good or bad, is music. Every relationship I’ve been in had a theme song that reminds me of that person. Every bad breakup also has a song (unfortunately, one particular song, which happens to be one of my favourite songs, reminds me of a person I’d rather forget!).

There are songs that remind me of my childhood friends, people who passed away, people who moved away, moments I never want to forget and moments I wish never happened but can laugh at now.

There are also those songs that remind me of memorable things that have happened on the road or while traveling abroad.  Those songs set the backdrop for some interesting, sometimes funny and always unforgettable moments where people from different backgrounds and cultures were united in a moment of togetherness even when language wasn’t a common factor.

I can trace the connection between music and travel back to my grade school years when my class would pile into an old school bus and travel to various places around Cape Breton for field trips. All the way to our destination, we sang songs. Even the bus driver would join in.

The 90s - Teenage Rebellion and Walkmans

Road trips with my parents were much the same until I hit my teenage years and music took on a different form. It was no longer “cool” to sing along to campfire-like songs with my parents; My Walkman (yes, Walkman – it was the 90’s) was my steady companion on those long trips and I often retreated into my own little world as I watched the world go by through the car window. 

 

MC Hammer, Vanilla Ice, C+C Music Factory and Technotronic. Again, it was the 90s.  My parents hated this because they saw it as me removing myself from their circle and being anti-social. I saw it as me discovering my own taste in music and setting my own soundtrack to the memories that were being made.

As I got older, I started leaving the portable music player at home and listened to the radio instead. I developed a taste in music similar to my mother’s. Dwight Yoakam, The Rolling Stones, The Eagles, The Garrison Brothers, The BeeGees, Sheryl Crow and Nana Mouskouri. I started to appreciate well-written song lyrics and real instruments. Folk music, country music, rock music, world music.  I developed quite a diverse taste in music!

Now, when I hear “The Streets of Bakersfield” by Dwight Yoakam and Buck Owens or Roger Miller's version of "Me and Bobby McGee" I'm taken back to the days when Mom and I would drive around town with our coffee. 

The songs "Silver Seas" and "Massachusetts" bring me back to the days of watching mom carefully prepare dinner. Boney M's Christmas Album brings happy tears to my eyes because it reminds me of the time-honoured Christmas tradition of decorating the house with that album playing so loud, the whole house would shake. 

When I got my first car, the first things I did were make a bunch of mix tapes and CDs and raid the cheap bin at Wal Mart where they sold old cassettes of long-forgotten bands from the 70s and 80s. 

"Perry Mason" - Ozzy Osbourn - First Cape Breton Road Trip on my Own

When it comes to special memories made on the road, there are many and each one can be paired with a song. I remember the day I got my first car quite well. My parents surprised me with a white 1989 Honda Accord. I grabbed some tapes from my bedroom and jumped in the car to embark on my first solo mission behind the wheel of my very own car. Well, not really solo. I tool my sisters along. 

I remember the song that was playing when I pulled out of the driveway; Ozzy Osbourne’s “Perry Mason”. A few months later, I furnished that car with a brand new, state-of-the-art sound system with amps, subwoofers and a CD player, top of the line in those days! That faithful little Honda was my sanctuary for 6 road-trip-filled years. I figured I had put that poor car through enough when the odometer reached 425,000 kilometres.

The summer before I moved away for college, I took one last trip around TheCabot Trail. I still remember the song that was playing on the radio when I found myself driving along the lonely country road through the Margaree Valley; “Strawberry Wine” by Deanna Carter. 

  

The Harmonica Player

When I moved to Newfoundland in 2000, my car came with me.  The night of the ferry crossing from Cape Breton to Argentia was one filled with bitter-sweet emotions.  I was homesick before the ferry even docked but excited to be going on that new journey.  As I stood on the outside deck of that ferry and watched my hometown get smaller and smaller and the waters around me become dark and rough as we crossed into the open ocean, loneliness swept over me.

 Then, I heard a sound coming from above me in the shadows of the upper deck. It sounded like a harmonica. I followed the sounds until I noticed a shadow on a bench in a far corner. A young man was playing the harmonica and soon, that young man joined the band in the main lounge for a lively set that had me forgetting my sorrow for just a little while. 

 

"Sweet Child of Mine" - Guns N' Roses - Theme Song of my Youth (Or perhaps my entire generation)

Everyone has that one song that takes them back to the best years of their life.  That song for me is Sweet Child of Mine by Guns N' Roses.  Driving around the backroads of St. John's and touring the outports outside the city while a carload of us sing to this song at the top of our lungs is one of my fondest memories but this song was the backdrop to so many epic moments of my life.  

"Billy Jean" - Michael Jackson - My Song

 Everyone has that one song that everyone else knows as their song.  For me, it's Billy Jean.  I'm sure everyone on George St. in St. John's knew it was my song.  I know almost every DJ did!  I wouldn't have to say anything when I approached their booth.  They just knew and next thing you know, my song would be on. 

I liken my reaction to the first few beats of the song as the reaction you get from a cat who hears a can of tuna being opened...running to the dance floor, usually a few sheets to the wind but always with the intention of savouring every moment that song graced the interior of whatever club I happened to be in. 

 "Dirty Old Town" - The Pogues - St. John's, Newfoundland

I moved to St. John's, Newfoundland just out of High School so the first 11 years of my adulthood were spent there so I was heartbroken when I had to leave.  

 The night before I departed the city for good, I managed to get all of my friends together for one last night on George Street.  We hit all of our favourite haunts, enjoyed some of our favourite local bands, drank, ate and had a blast.  We ended the night at the same place we ended every other night we got together on George St. over the last 11 years.   

At last call, as I savoured my last Vodka and cranberry a familiar song came on. Fittingly, the song had been sort of a theme song for my life in St. John's.  Fittingly, Dirty Old Town was the last song that played that night. When I want to return to that special night many years ago, all I have to do is close my eyes and listen to that song and I'm taken back there. 

 

"We no Speak Americano" - Yolanda be Cool - Playa Del Carmen Mexico

A trip to Mexico many years ago turned into a complete disaster and in the background of every horrible moment that week, the song “We No Speak Americano” by Yolanda be Cool was blaring through the speakers in the common area of the hotel. I’m not sure why the staff had such an obsession with that particular song but even when I hear it today, I have flashbacks to that horrible week in Playa Del Carmen.

 

"Mambo #5" - Lou Bega - Varadero, Cuba

My trip to Cuba the following year was much better. The only problem? I had the song “Mambo #5” by Lou Bega stuck in my head for weeks after I returned home! For some reason, this song was played over and over again in the common areas of the resort. Now every time I hear that song, it reminds me of that week.\

 

 

"Freedom 90" - George Michael - Montezuma, Costa Rica

 And then there was Costa Rica, one of my most memorable trips. A week spent at a yoga retreat in paradise. I was too tired to walk back to the retreat after an evening spent wandering the little surf village of Montezuma so I hailed a cab. My driver couldn’t speak a word of English and we both struggled to communicate. After some pointing and hand gestures and broken words in English and Spanish, he understood where I wanted to go. We started the short journey up that steep hill to Anamaya Yoga Retreat in silence until he turned on the radio. One might assume that a Spanish song would be playing on a local station in a Spanish-speaking country but it was an English song. My driver recognized the song and that man who could not speak a word of English only a few minutes earlier began to sing along to George Michael’s “Freedom 90” at the top of his lungs…in clear, unbroken English!

 

Over the course of my life, I have had many such unplanned and unforgettable moments and I feel fortunate to have those memories and to be able to remember the songs that bring me back to those special moments frozen in time. Someday, I may forget those memories and I can only hope that the sound of a particular song will bring me back. I believe music has that much power. I’ve experienced that power many times.

 

Unforgettable Meals From the Road

Food is one of life's greatest joys so naturally, one of the greatest joys of traveling is getting to try out local dishes while indulging in another culture.  Some of my fondest travel memories involve memorable meals I've enjoyed on the road and the people I shared them with.  From the open-air restaurants of the Caribbean and Central America to the cozy pubs of rural Scotland, here are some of my most memorable meals from the road.

Somewhere Outside of Las Vegas, Nevada
While in Las Vegas, I rented a car and took a 3-day road trip in the Mojave Desert and explored some of the more remote regions of Nevada, Arizona and California. While driving along a country road somewhere in the middle of the desert, I came across a diner standing alone among some cacti and Joshua Trees.  It looked like something you would see in one of those old western movies.  I went in.  I don't even remember what the name of the place was or what I had to eat, but I remember the atmosphere.  I was greeted with an air of subtle weariness, perhaps because I was an outsider.  I remember the view - vast desert and distant mountain ranges.  Although I felt a little uncomfortable in that remote place, it ranks high on my list of intriguing places that I've stopped at for a meal in the middle of nowhere.

Les Isles de la Madeleine, Quebec
Like most Canadians, I love a heaping plate of greasy, cheese-and-gravy-soaked Poutine.  What most people don't know is "real" poutine (made with cheese curds instead of melted mozzarella cheese) is rarely served outside of French-speaking areas of Canada.  That's why I just had to try the dish while I was in Les Isles de la Madeleine, a group of islands belonging to the predominately French province of Quebec.  I took this trip with my mother as she always wanted to go there to see the place where her grandmother came from. We found a nice little place overlooking a beautiful seaside panorama and enjoyed the best plate of poutine I've ever had.  And yes, it was made with real cheese curds. 

Playa Del Carmen, Mexico 
In Playa Del Carmen, I stayed at a small boutique-style hotel that offered a buffet at breakfast and the food was extremely good.  The first morning, I wandered down to the open-air dining area and was amazed at the choices available!  The food was better than I imagined it would be and I soon learned that the Mexican food I eat in Canada isn't real Mexican food at all.  The other amazing thing about meals at this hotel? The friendly staff interacted with me and even sat with me at my table.  They wanted to know everything about me.  Where was I from?  Is there snow there?  Do I know so-and-so from Winnipeg?  Even though they could barely speak English, they made an effort to make me feel welcome and appreciated and I had no problem answering all of their questions as I had many of my own.  

Havana, Cuba
Before I left for Cuba, I was told by others that the food is not very good.  I stayed at an all-inclusive resort and during the first few days, forced my way through a number of horrible meals (think dry bread, rancid dairy products, rotten fruit and tasteless other items) before trying a meal at a restaurant off the resort.  I was in Havana with a group of other tourists and we decided to do lunch at a small restaurant.  Now, when people tell me that the food in Cuba is disgusting, I tell them "no it's not! It's only disgusting in those cheap all-inclusives" because the meal I had in that restaurant was excellent in every way possible.  Not only was I able to enjoy a delicious, fresh, homemade meal served by the  friendliest staff, but I also got to enjoy it with a fantastic group of people from all over the world. 

Montezuma, Costa Rica
During the first leg of my travels in Costa Rica, I stayed at a lovely yoga retreat in the little surf town of Montezuma on the Nicoya Peninsula.  I can't pinpoint one particular meal during the whole week that was amazing because all the meals served were amazing and definitely among the best I've had in my entire life so far.  Fresh, organic produce and eggs taken directly from a nearby farm were used to prepare the five-course meals (appetizers, soup, salad, main course and dessert) and a softly-lit dining area overlooking the Pacific Ocean with a table big enough to seat two dozen people from all over the world made dining at this place an experience I won't soon forget.

  

La Fortuna, Costa Rica

During the second week of my adventure in Costa Rica, I spent time exploring the area of La Fortuna which included a day at the luxurious Tabacon Hot Springs Spa.  After a relaxing day soaking in the hot springs, I and the group of travelers I arrived there with were treated to a lovely meal at the on-site restaurant.  A huge buffet was served with an abundance of fresh, delicious items.  I think I heard about a dozen different languages around the table that night.  Sharing a meal with people from so many different cultures is an opportunity I never turn down. There was storytelling, email-swapping and language lessons.  And the meal?  Phenomenal!

Derricks, Barbados
I found an excellent deal on a week-long apartment rental for my trip to Barbados and the rental came with the option to have meals served three times a day.  Every morning, afternoon and evening, the lady who ran the place prepared a homemade meal right in front of me.  I enjoyed these meals in the pretty outdoor dining area where I could watch the mischievous little green monkeys playing in the nearby trees.  These meals were all made with the healthiest and freshest ingredients and were delicious. The best part about the meals was the fact that I had never heard of the recipes before so I got to try brand-new-to-me dishes.  Eating a meal each day in a home-like environment made it seem like I was visiting an old friend rather than traveling solo in a foreign country.

Pearson International Airport, Toronto
I know it seems odd that anyone could have a memorable meal in an airport let alone one of North America's biggest and busiest.  However, amidst the chaos that is Pearson International, I found a quiet little sandwich bar tucked away near my gate.  I grabbed the one thing that appealed to me in the display box which was a vegetarian sandwich, and took a seat at the back where I could watch everything going on outside the little peaceful oasis.  That sandwich was worth every cent of the 8 bucks I paid for it because it was one of the most delicious veggie sandwiches I ever had.  The coffee was good too and as I sat back, relaxed and prepared to indulge in my hot caffeinated beverage, a young man with a guitar took a seat just outside the shop and, despite the noise and chaos around him, he started to play. 

Edinburgh, Scotland
Within hours of arriving in Edinburgh, I had already hit the streets.  I knew I only had three days in the city and wanted to make the most my time.  I was dead tired, jet-lagged and starved but I walked over twenty kilometres that first day, exploring every nook and cranny of the downtown area.  By evening, I had to find something to eat, something quick and something nutritious.  Just around the corner from my hotel was a cozy little cafe.  I walked in and ordered a veggie sandwich.  The sandwich itself wasn't anything extraordinary, although it was quite good and definitely filled with veggies.  It was the atmosphere that accompanied my meal.  As I sat in a booth by the window that Friday night, the crowds were preparing for a wild night on the town.  I got a real taste of the excitement that transpires when tens of thousands of locals and international tourists intermingle for the evening's festivities.  As the streets grew more crowded, a lone bagpiper stopped right in front of the cafe and began to play.  He may have thought he was playing for the enjoyment of all those people on the street but in my mind, it seemed like that delightful serenade was made for my ears only.  

  

Broadford, Scotland

They say the best way to get to know a place is to wander around on foot.  I guess you can say I got to know Broadford quite well.  I arrived at my bed and breakfast in the early evening and the only thing on my mind was food.  I neglected to pick something up on the road and since it was getting late, it was difficult to find something to eat.  Not having a car available (and not wanting to waste money calling a cab), I started walking.  Of course, it being Scotland in September, I ended up wandering around aimlessly in rain, wind and cold.  I walked to the bottom of the hill where I had seen a few take-away restaurants.  No lights, no cars in the parking lots, no staff around.  Closed for the evening.  I walked some more.  I got hopelessly turned around and ended up going in circles and had no idea where I was or how to get back.  Finally, I found a tiny pub. Upon opening the door, I felt like I was walking onto the set of Coronation Street.  A cozy atmosphere filled with friendly locals watching sports and gossiping and laughing and carrying on.  I was greeted with a hearty welcome from the friendly barmaid who was happy to make a meal for me even though the kitchen had just closed.  She must have felt sorry for the soggy, wayward tourist.  I took a seat at the bar and was welcomed into the group of patrons who were interested in finding out more about this lone traveler looking for a bite to eat on a stormy night.   I enjoyed my meal and a pint and bid them all farewell before trekking back into the cold, wet night.   

 

 

Fort Augustus, Scotland

While I'm used to traveling alone and therefore eating alone, one of my most memorable meals was the one I enjoyed on my last evening touring the highlands and lowlands of Scotland.  I had spent five spectacular days with a dozen incredible people from all over the world. The last night of the tour was spent in a pretty little town not far from the banks of Loch Ness.  Upon arrival, we parted ways to check into our accommodations, which were scattered around town, and agreed to meet in an hour by the canal for dinner.  A lady from the United States was staying in the same bed and breakfast as me so we walked together.  Turns out we both had a really bad sense of direction.  We walked and walked and turned around several times when she admitted she had no clue where she was and neither did I.  Then the rain and wind came.  By the time we found it, we were both soaking wet and hysterical from laughing so hard at our misadventure.  Fort Augustus was not particularly bustling on that wet, cold night so by the time we got back into town, our group had dispersed and almost everything was closed.  We again found ourselves wandering around in the rain until we found a pizza shop that was still open. That night, as we sat eating pizza by a window overlooking a deserted street in a land foreign to us both, we talked about everything under the sun as if we were old friends who knew one another for years.  

 

 

 

 

So Many Places are Near and Dear to my Heart

Wreck Cove General Store – I have made the trip from Lingan to Ingonish hundreds (maybe even thousands!) of times and have stopped at this store every single time. It’s tradition. The store has been there since I can remember and it hasn’t changed since the first time I stopped. That’s why I like it – it never changes. The outside is rugged and old-fashioned and so is the inside. When I walk in there, it’s like I’m walking into the past, into one of those old ma and pop stores I used to frequent when I was kid but have all since disappeared. Even if I don’t need to buy anything, I go in and look around and have a friendly chat with the cashier or walk around outside to stretch my legs. If that store were ever to close, the drive to Ingonish would never be the same again!

Kananaskis Country – As I was driving through the Rocky Mountains near the town of Canmore, I stopped to take a break and noticed a gravel road near a reservoir that looked like it went right up into the mountains. If you’ve been following this blog for a while, you know that I don’t pass up too many opportunities – especially ones that involve me driving up roads that I’ve never been on before. I didn’t know it at the time but I found out later that the area I drove into (and got lost in, of course) was known as Kananaskis Country. There was a maze of roads up there and it didn’t take long for me to get lost. But that was ok because the scenery was out-of-this-world, like nothing I had ever seen before. And there was no one else around! I didn’t see a single other human being during the many hours I wandered that remote region. The air was crisp, there wasn’t a breath of wind and the only sounds were of birds chirping and trees rustling. It was like I was the only person left on the planet.

The Fairy Hole – Hard to get to but well worth the trip! Tucked away in a far corner of the Bras d’Or area, at the end of a long dirt road is the fairly difficult trail leading to one of Cape Breton’s best kept secrets. The trick to getting the most out of a visit? Go when the tide is low. So that is what I did. I arrived at the trailhead late in the afternoon and made the hike down to a small, rocky beach. From there, I had to swim through some very rough waters filled with giant boulders to an entrance in the side of the cliff. I was tossed about and came out bruised and cut but made it through that entrance to be greeted by a site that was almost fairytale-like; a round pool of deep blue water protected by large rocks and cliffs so the raging waters of the bay could not disturb me. The most eerie thing about the swimming hole was how warm the water was for that time of year compared to the water raging just a few feet away. It was October, not a time of year that is great for swimming in Atlantic Canada. The other eerie thing was the deep, dark cave that lurked right above the swimming hole. I didn’t dare go in since the tide was coming up but it’s on my list! I did, however, enjoy the warm waters of that spectacular swimming hole for a couple of hours.

Bell Island – Another island within an island. Bell Island is located about a half-hour boat ride from Portugal Cove on the bigger island of Newfoundland. I decided, on the spur of the moment one day, to take a little day trip over to the little island I often admired from the shore at Topsail Beach. There was a small town with a museum and some resting areas but it was the leisurely drive on the one road that went completely around the island that really made the trip worthwhile. There were hardly any other cars around so it was like I had the entire island to myself as I drove the windy road and admired the surrounding view. I pulled over at a little park by the water with some trees and a little beach and just sat there in the sun until the last ferry crossing of the day took me back to the other side.

St. Anne’s Loop – There is an option to take the ferry at Englishtown to get across the bay to the North Shore but I almost always take the long way. Why do I chose to waste time and gas to go the long way around? Because I don’t see it as a waste of time or gas. This scenic loop takes me about forty-five minutes out of my way but it is worth every minute. The road is windy and almost free from potholes (which makes it very fun to drive!), it is almost always deserted (which means I have the road to myself to drive as slow or as fast as I please!), there is a quiet little picnic park to stop and rest and there are frequent views of the bay through the trees. When the moon is full, sometimes I drive to St. Anne’s just to go around that loop and back home again because there is just something about that road on a clear, moonlit night that makes it perfect for summer night cruise.

Fortress of Louisbourg – As a child, the Fortress of Louisbourg, a reconstructed 18th century fortress on Cape Breton Island, was like a giant playground. There were so many buildings and rooms to explore, places to hide and walls to climb. Today, it is still like that to me. Although I have explored those buildings and exhibits over and over again over the years, I still love to go to the fortress at least once a year to just wander those gravel streets and imagine what it must have been like to live in such an interesting time in history.

Under the Seal Island Bridge – Anyone who has driven on the Trans-Canada Highway through Cape Breton has gone over the Seal Island Bridge, that massive structure that makes it possible to pass that body of water that cuts between Kelly’s Mountain and Boularderie Island. Some people are afraid of crossing over it because it is so high and narrow and is said to sway on very windy days. Other people, like myself, love crossing it! Recently, I discovered something else to love about the bridge – that there is a way for me to get underneath it and experience it in a while new way. I love being able to crawl underneath the workings of the bridge for the simple fact that hundreds of people are driving right above me and have no idea that I am there. It’s also cool under there on hot days and the view is amazing!

California/Nevada Border – I’ve only been there once but there was just something about crossing over that state line that gave me a sense of achievement. As a child growing up in Canada, California was this magical place with beaches, sunshine, parties and happy people. This is what flashed across TV screens and was highlighted in books and magazines. I just always wanted to go to California and experience that for myself. I reached that point on that deserted, lonely, desert highway mid-day and stopped to take in the moment and, of course, get a picture of the sign saying I had reached the threshold of the two states. Crossing that state line fulfilled a childhood dream…even if I only went as far as Death Valley National Park!

That Long Sandy Beach in the Magdelan Islands – I always wanted to travel to the Magdelan Islands, the archipelago that lies between Prince Edward Island and Quebec in the Gulf of St. Lawrence and the place my great-grandparents hailed from. I finally got that chance in 2009 and had no idea what to expect before I arrived. I was mesmerized by the scenery and relaxed way of life on the islands but I most intrigued by a sandy beach I discovered quite by accident. The main highway passing through the main island is lined by sandy beaches but driver’s are unable to see them because they are hidden behind giant sand dunes that line the highway. I noticed foot paths leading over the dunes in some places and decided to park the car and follow one over to the other side. I’ve been to the southern United States and the Caribbean and have yet to see a beach as spectacular as the one I found that day. Long with soft, white sand and warm, blue waters. The best part? It was completely and totally deserted!

The Beach in Playa Del Carmen, Mexico – To some people, a beach is a beach and they are all the same. To me, every beach I’ve ever visited had something unique and the beach lining the town of Playa Del Carmen was quite different from many of the beaches I have visited. During the day, locals and visitors congregated together on the beach which was lively with music, volleyball games and people out to enjoy the nice weather and relax. By night, it was something different. The long, sandy stretch was a welcome alternative to a night spent in a nightclub or hotel room watching TV. Each night during my visit, I took my place in the warm sand and listened to the sounds and smells around me. Gentle waves rolling ashore and Mexican music and the smell of freshly cooked local fare coming from the beachside restaurant behind me. I couldn’t imagine spending my evenings in the town any other way!

Travel is Dangerous Business? No but Fear and Contempt Towards People who Choose to Live this "Wreckless" Lifestyle is Alive and Well

The first time I traveled internationally, on my own, without my parents was a trip to Las Vegas, Nevada. After I booked the trip, I remember being happy and excited but not scared. Fast forward to a few days before departure and I was a nervous wreck.

I am aware that bad things have happened in the world, they are happening now and they will continue to happen. I am also aware that travel can be dangerous especially for a young woman. I am not naive. I am open-minded but trusting and laid-back enough to not let fear get in the way of enjoying my life but I know how to watch my back and be alert to any dangers that may arise. I know not to walk in dark alleys alone. I know not to leave my drink unattended. I know not to get in cars with strangers. I know how to make sure I am not being followed when I return to my hotel room. What I don't know is why so many people try to scare the living daylights out of me right before any trip I embark on and run every possible bad scenario through my head to the point that I think a world war will break out before I even get on the plane.

Many people think I am reckless. No, most of them will not say this to me, but the sentiment is written all over their faces whenever I tell them I am about to embark on another solo journey to some far-flung place to participate in what they deem to be “death-defying” activities – things like surfing, trekking through rainforests and jungles, jumping off waterfalls, hiking around volcanoes and ziplining. Ok, maybe I can see how all that does sound a bit reckless to some people but, from my point of view, I am living my life to the fullest and not letting fear get in the way of me trying new things. Yes, the zipline could snap and send me falling to my death, I could drown or get eaten by a shark while surfing, I could be snatched by a puma or other predator while trekking around the jungle and a volcano could erupt while I am walking around it but the odds are slim and I most likely will never experience any of these things in my lifetime or on any of my travels. To me, not living my life, not trying new things, not embarking on new adventures is reckless. I guess everyone is entitled to their opinion and everyone’s perception of recklessness is different.

I’ve traveled to some places that are considered to be dangerous. Take Mexico for example. There were advisories in place warning vacationers against traveling to Mexico when I decided to go. I was well aware of the violence occurring in various parts of the country but I was not going to let it stop me from going. I chose an area that was, at that time, almost untouched by the drug cartels and violence occurring elsewhere. But, of course, once my family and friends got wind of my travel plans, they tried to change my mind against going to such a dangerous place where I could (key word here - COULD) be kidnapped, beaten or murdered. In the weeks and days leading up to my departure, they sent me videos, articles, pictures and anything they thought might change my mind about going. They wasted much of their time watching the horrific tales coming out of the country on CNN and scared themselves more than they scared me. I still boarded the plane but images of armed drug cartels storming into town and shooting up my hotel remained in the back of my mind. Once I arrived and saw the beauty of the place and the friendliness of the people, I forgot all about those images and enjoyed my vacation that saw me venturing quite a distance from my hotel on public transport and on foot. I saw no violence, no armed drug cartels, no muggings and no kidnappings. The only armed people I saw were the tourist police carrying rather large and menacing-looking guns but as long as you don’t bother them, they just sit around on stoops, smoking cigarettes and keeping to themselves. Even when I traveled to Cuba, my family and friends were worried even though the country has one of the lowest crime rates in North America. In fact, the crime rate in Havana must be fairly low because the only weapon I saw police officers carrying were batons and the only “crime” against me as I walked those city streets was the odd cat call. I hardly consider “hey pretty lady, would you like a flower for your hair” a crime or even offensive for that matter. Right before my departure for Costa Rica this part April, my mother slipped me some cash and told me to stash it somewhere safe in case “someone kidnapped me and wanted ransom money”. Again, I witnessed no crime in that country and came back in one piece like I always have and always will and presented my mom with the gift I purchased for her with her ransom money.

I must say, I’m shocked at some of the things people have said to me about my desire to travel and to do so alone. Actually, I should say, I used to be shocked but now I am more aware of some of the reasons why people may say these things. I have heard it all. One of my all time favorites is “shouldn’t you be finding a career, settling down and finding a husband and having babies instead of traveling the world and being so irresponsible”. First of all, since when does traveling the world mean someone is irresponsible? If anything, I am being responsible because I am learning about the world, I am opening up my mind to things beyond my backyard, I am learning about new cultures, I am learning about how people live and work in other parts of the world and I’m building excellent life skills including learning new languages, learning new skills (I most recently learned how to surf in Costa Rica), learning to be independent and learning how to interact with all types of different people from different backgrounds. What employer wouldn’t want someone who is worldly and experienced in so many aspects of life? What future husband wouldn’t want a woman who is independent and self-sufficient? And what future children wouldn’t want a mother who is adventurous, fun-loving and knowledgeable about so many things?

My next favorite question that is often asked of me is “where do you get all the money to travel so much”? I always have a hard time explaining this one to people because most people in the developed world just don’t get it when I explain to them that I am not materialistic so I have extra money to travel instead. I explain to them that I do not pay for cable because I don’t watch TV, I do not eat out because I like to eat healthy at home, I do not pay for a gym membership because I run, walk and bike outside 365 days a year, I do not shop unless I need something and I only occasionally splurge on something I want, like a piece of clothing, an ice cream cone or a latte instead of the plain ol’ coffee I usually drink. Material things do nothing for me. I can have all the material things in the worl, but what is the good of them if I am sitting between four walls, going nowhere and doing nothing with my life? I like to travel and that is where I make my big splurges. When I explain this to most people, they look at me like I have ten heads and yet, they are the ones who will look at all my travel pictures on Facebook and say how lucky I am to be able to afford to go to such places. Well, duh…That’s because I don’t spend my money on trivial material things that hold me back from living the life I want! These same people go to the mall three or four times a week to buy things they do not need, they buy a new 800 dollar phone every six months, they eat out at restaurants several times a week and spend hundreds of dollars a month going out to bars and clubs to stare at a wall and drink until they fall over. I buy new clothes once a year and occasionally search through thrift shops the rest of the time, I have had the same cell phone for four years, eating out is a picnic at the beach and my entertainment comes in the form of watching the sun set, laying on a beach and watching the stars, going for a walk in the woods or spending time with family and friends. And still, even when I point this out, they do not get how I have enough money to travel.

“Don’t you get lonely or afraid when traveling alone?” This is the next most common question I am asked and the answer is always no and no. I have traveled with people before. The last time I traveled with someone, it was an utter disaster. That person drank from sundown to sundown the entire time we were away, acted like an idiot and almost got us in huge trouble on several occasions. I know not everyone is like this when they travel, that is just one example of why I prefer traveling alone; I don’t have to put up with anything like that! I also don’t have to worry about traveling with a party pooper who doesn’t want to do anything or someone who would rather sleep all day. I can go where I want when I want, I can eat when I want and it is easier to meet other people when you are traveling alone because just being alone is a conversation starter. People are always curious about me being alone in a strange new place. Many people express admiration at me being such an independent and unafraid single woman traveling alone. Others want advice on how they can do the same. I have been told by some people that I’ve inspired them to take their first solo journey abroad. Others simply tell me that I am crazy, foolish and, you guessed it, irresponsible. Apparently, I should be taking better care of myself and not putting myself in “so much danger”.

Yup, I’ve heard it all and, although I’m used to it and expect these questions to be asked, I still can’t help but wonder where all this hatred towards my love of travel, my free-spirited attitude, my love of life, my sense of adventure, my lack of material possessions and my need to learn and experience new things comes from. I mean, first of all, the way I live MY life should not be anyone else’s concern anyway, right? Wrong. In this society, apparently, it is considered the norm to want to control every aspect of everyone else’s lives except your own. Perhaps it has nothing to do with control at all. Maybe these people are jealous because they don’t have the nerve to do the things they want to do and they envy me for jumping at every opportunity to enjoy my life and live it the way I want to. Maybe these people are addicted to watching television and buying material things and want to stop but can’t so they use me as a punching bag to make their lives look better when what they really want is to be doing the things I do. Or it could be that they are so in awe by my unique lifestyle that they just don’t know the proper things to say. I choose to live my life the way I want to live it and my way is not a conventional one; I made the choice to live and not simply exist – the work, eat, sleep, repeat until I die lifestyle is just not enough for me, I need more, I need to be living every moment to the fullest and I have found ways to work around that need so that I can have that life. And anything that is different rises curiosity, judgment and…fear. I do believe fear is a big factor in the way people react to my lifestyle. Fear of the unknown, fear of letting go, fear of moving on, fear of change, fear of dying, fear of anything that is not familiar. And that fear is what keeps people where they are even if they are not happy and that fear prevents many people from living the lives they really want. In some ways, I guess I have no fear, at least not when it comes to living my life to the fullest. I will risk facing the unknown, I will risk loosing everything and I will even risk death if it means I get to do something I want to do and live my life the way I want to live it. This, to me, is the ultimate freedom and with any amount of freedom comes risk.

Fear of travel is a big thing these days. With wars going on in many countries, terrorism and crime rates skyrocketing everywhere, it is no wonder many people would rather cower in their own homes. People have this assumption that they will be victimized in some way while traveling and that nothing bad could ever happen to them at home. I’ve traveled in a number of different countries and in some places that were considered to be dangerous and nothing ever happened to me. No one even attempted to victimize me in any way while I was traveling outside of my home country. I lived in Canada my whole life, the country is said to be one of the safest in the world, especially on the east coast where I live and over a span of three years, I had three police files open for various crimes that were committed against me (stalking, robbery, vandalism to my car and property) and the only time I was ever robbed was on the front porch of my house…at home, where everyone thinks they are safest.