Colorado, sand dunes and books

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June 23, 2019

It was actually June 22nd that I was in Colorado. I woke up in Pagosa Springs and drove for another hour or so, to reach what is to me a sacred place: sand dunes. Recently I found myself stopping along the way while hiking, to take a moment and actually be grateful for what I am seeing, feeling, smelling, absorbing, rejecting… In Utah, for instance, I sat on a rock facing the arches. No one was around me because people are fundamentally lazy. I sometimes “hate” myself for staying just a short while wherever I am going, taking a too short walk, or hike, but some of us out there really take it to another level. What’s their main purpose while visiting a place? I am not sure, but very few of us humans were opting for walking down the Primitive Trail, which said “difficult” at the entrance, so I had only very few encounters with those of my species, which is something I am really happy about. I took advantage of being almost alone in the area, and sat. Listening to the only sound of the wind blowing through the rocks, reminded me of when I road tripped for the first time with Emily, in 2011. My first time in the Mojave Desert, in SoCal and my first time with real silence. A deafening silence, to use an oxymoron that expresses the unexpected sensation I had. Blessed.

The Great Sand Dunes were packed with people being profane in my sacred place. To reach the dunes you have to walk through a stream of water all around them. All these individuals with inflatables, umbrellas, tents, and more, treating the dunes as regular beach places where you just go to sun bathe and your children pee in the water, made my anger explode. I was expecting silence. I was foreseeing respect, experts of the land handling obnoxious humans: yes you’re allowed to visit, yes you can sand board, yes you can even take your pets and your kids, but you cannot leave Starbucks cups and dogs’ dejections everywhere. I started taking photos to document it. I had to. Spoiled rotten little kids whining, crying, screaming and I was done. Despite how hard it is to walk on the dunes, in the sand, while sinking deep, with the wind blowing sand grains in your eyes, ears, mouth, nose, everywhere, I started hiking up and down, seeing that the further I was going, the fewer people I could see. Just youngsters, in small groups, going all the way up to the high ones to sand board, and that was actually fine with me. I was smiling at them remembering my time in Huacachina, Peru, sand boarding with my BC peeps, riding those funny dune buggies like crazy. Fun times.

Going down memory lane allowed me to release some of the bother and I eventually reached the top, enjoying the view all around me. I sat and I contemplated the wonders of this place. To be honest, I also felt a little sorrow for not having anyone with me to say “See? How amazing” as I could hear many say while passing me by. Everyone had someone having their back, but me. They all had someone rooting for them, “come on, one more dune” or “one more, one more, see the rim? So close!” and I only had the voice in the back of my head with me, which we already know is not exactly what we would define as my best friend. But I endured and I stayed. After a while, being all covered with sand, I just decided to walk down and head North. I was thirsty and hungry, and still had a little annoyance lingering within me, thinking of having to cross path again with those irreverent individuals there, at the bottom. Luckily a friend of mine from Boston moved to Colorado, now living in Boulder, and I can’t wait to get there.

Maintenance Required light: ON. UGH! I have to do a quick pit-stop for an oil change. Colorado Springs seems to be the closest place where I can get it on a Saturday afternoon. Deal. The Pep Boys guys in LA have always treated me with courtesy, so I choose to go visit their colleagues in Colorado. They find a couple more issues on my SiennaMiller but, not having the financial possibilities nor the time to fix those, they kindly change the oil and replace an air filter for me, treating me once again as a valuable customer, and then they just write a note for future reference in case I decide to get everything working properly again. Great attitude is the key. I leave and go back on the road with a few more concerns, but glad I found some nice fellows in here as well as in LA.

The road to Boulder was… soaking wet. I had to go through two storms, a couple accidents and a whole lot of water, but once in Boulder the weather was merciful and I could greet Gabriel, my friend, after two years from the last time we hung out in Boston. Mah “wicked” Bawston. It was so nice to see a familiar face and do something with a friend. We went out right away, to a German place he likes, having the chance to catch up on the past two years of our stooopid crazy lives. The following morning we opt for a Tea House downtown where we have brunch, and then he shows me around. We visit two places he knows I would very much appreciate: a store where they sell old maps called Art Source International and Boulder Book Store. Loved both and bought a book: of course. If I could, I would get hundreds plus a couple old maps and an old, err vintage, wooden globe for my mother, but not now. One day. When my bank account will allow it. We eventually go for a short hike and fall into deep conversations about philosophy, biology, literature, languages, games, art… whatever. Sharing opinions and ideas, even when we disagree on some points, is something I cherish and respect. I could stay and wait for tomorrow, as it will be sunny and warm, but the road is calling. I am going to miss a Dungeons and Dragons night my friend wanted me to go to, but he understands and let me go on my way. I’m grateful for today so I leave content and laid-back. By late night I’m in Nebraska and I can rest for a few hours, thinking about my dogs back home, one in particular –who is old and in pain, and I weep a little, before Morpheus gets me…and tomorrow is another day on the road.

Utah, part one

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June 20, 2019

I forgot to say that driving back from Yellowstone I witnessed the murmuration of birds, but could not capture it for you to see. Just imagine a flock of birds twisting and turning in unison right before your eyes and the the purple-pink breathtaking sunset over the horizon. Lucky? I know. So grateful. To complete this praiseworthy experience, I had to pull over in the middle of nowhere before entering Utah, because yes it was black all over me (although not completely as the moon was so big, and shining so bright that it was almost lighting up the whole sky! I know, unbelievable, but it’s true), but had to stop and stare at the sky, as it was full of stars. I had to admire the beauty for a bit, and then I kept going.

In the morning I reached Salt Lake City, UT. Except for a quick tour downtown, an even quicker stop at Starbucks and at a gas station, I haven’t really seen the city, did not really feel like it. As soon as I got downtown I felt like searching for a place to hike, so I left. It is making me too uncomfortable to see homeless on the streets, and most of all those who are passed out, lying careless on the sidewalk with people ignoring them. It makes me feel sick, I wish I could help, but then I always remember that time in Liverpool I left food and a couple of Pounds to this guy right next to the hotel where the students I was escorting were staying. The following morning he overdosed right next to us. I felt responsible although I know what I left wasn’t enough for him to do something so extreme, but it touched me deep, and I started questioning if it is actually good for them, or rather for our conscience, to give alms instead of helping them in some other way. I wanted to do it while in LA, some PBJ sandwiches, a bottle of water and an apple in that typical brown paper lunch bag were always on my mind ready to be prepared. I just waited too long for someone to go with me and distribute everything. When I asked my “friends” there to go with me, I got mostly no’s and “yes, as soon as I’m free, too busy now”, which eventually lessened my faith in humanity, time passed, and I was too focused on surviving, so now I’m here. Hopefully I can make it up to it, soon.

Talking about “friends”, how often does it happen for two friends to end up in the same random city, hours away from where we both live, on a random day without planning it, finding it out on Instagram? It happened. I reached out, but apparently people are way too busy to meet at present, even for just a quick coffee anytime during the day. Everyone but me. If I want, I always find even 10 minutes to stop by and acknowledge the existence of people who shared part of their life, either long or short, with me. But that’s the point, if you -want- to do it, you do it, otherwise, you’re too busy. Except while in SLC! After 7 years I got the chance to meet again with one of my favorite married couples I used to work with while in Aviano, at the US Air Force base in Italy. They found the time to meet me, even for just an hour or so; we hugged, we chatted, we laughed, and then they wished me safe travels. Relatively quick but intense, just the way I like it. Thanks guys.

Before driving up North to see them, and then back down South to continue with my journey, I went hiking like I was supposed to. I found some nice trails in Big Cottonwood Canyon and started the day. I realized that driving makes you lazy. You sit there for hours and you get so accustomed to it that, although you need to stretch out, when it’s time to get off and walk you act like a little spoiled brat thinking “naaah, I don’t want to go I just want to rest”! No! Wrong. Bad girl. For instance, when you start walking, first you’re like “ugh, I’m tired” then “uhm, it starts feeling good stretching my legs”, followed by “oh, this is nice”, ending with “cool, I’d do this forever”. Because walking does not really tire me that much. My legs may be a little sore after many hours, but it feels good. I haven’t been on loooong walks since Sequoia. I hiked for I think five to six hours that day. Now I’m just going for strolls and my body is gaining weight for sitting in the car for too long. I need to fix this, because walking does me good, mostly after my surgeries –when I was crying for not being able to walk, and had to learn how to do it all over again, so I need to move. It gets addicting. I feel stupid thinking about this because then my mind takes me to my friend Andrea, who is walking like –for real! He walks with his inoperable cancer to the head of the pancreas defeating every expectations from doctors and experts. He started walking after his life saving treatments, when they sentenced him to the waiting game. I know. Hard to even just think about it. He does it for hours, though. Walking, I mean. Day after day, he walks all over Europe (for now). He wrote a book about this part of his journey on Earth, to be a loudspeaker to those in need, to those who, like him before, are not aware of what pancreatic cancer is, because it is still considered a subtle silent “motherfucking” evil carcinoma. Andrea to me (and many others of course) is a little hero and here is his page. Check him out. You must.

Therefore, after thinking about him, I felt stupid. As far as I’m concerned, I am not taking any tumor for a stroll to try and stay alive, so I should just walk and shut my mouth. I swear I do. I don’t usually talk while walking. It’s my mind that starts rambling. Andrea started walking because he did not want to die, he wanted to live and to make of the short time he has left on Earth worth living (or dying) for. I started walking because I did not want to live, and I had to figure out why. Everybody is different I guess, so please avoid any judgement. I already know all this is messed up. If it weren’t, I wouldn’t be here talking about it, don’t you think? Good. Moving forward. My mind took me to those philosophical questions: what is life really? What is death? Life is the opposite of death. Nope. Death lasts a moment. Life lasts for longer. Try again. Ok. What if life is like a Stargate? What if life itself is the actual portal between the cosmos, and we are all just travelers? Death –seen as the end of everything, does not really exist, and life becomes this temporary status we get while traveling between“worlds”. Someone passes through the Stargate for minutes, some for a few years, some for almost a hundred, but eventually, everyone leaves the Stargate and keeps traveling. We are only allowed a certain amount of time because on this planet we need a mortal body to travel, as if our body is our passport to enter the Stargate. So the body is the passport, not the Stargate, just to make it clear. When we’re not on Earth, or let’s say “alive on Earth” we are dead here, but we may be alive somewhere else because we’re just going through Stargates! We can’t be “non-infinite” in an infinite universe. Come on! “Matter is neither created nor destroyed” right buddy, Antoine? (Lavoisier) And neither is energy, says my other friend J.R. (Mayer), both endorsed by Albert (Einstein) eventually; so what am I even talking about here? It should be obvious! Can we please talk about it? Let’s chat. Drop a line.

On a less crazy level, one thing that actually stroke me these past two weeks is how I am falling in love with all the places I am visiting. I am seeing beauty all around me, despite a few flaws here and there, mostly created by humans, not by nature, and I am amazed at this feeling because when I get to the point of thinking “ah, I would stay here at least a little longer” I know that something got me and it scares me. It frustrates me really, because I have to leave, but I like the fact I am loving everything around me, and maybe this is what I need. I need to learn what love means, in order for me to start loving myself. That, I am sure, will make me heal, inside. I guess this Stargate was broken and the whole point of me getting here was to fix it. Explained why I am a fixer. I fix broken things. And all the broken people with their broken Stargates are attracted to me somehow. I am laughing so hard right now, at my own imagination, that if only I could be good enough to make a living out of it, I would probably hit the jackpot.

On a last, lighter note, much lighter note: am I the only one thinking that being a biped sucks? Yeah no, because, it may just be that I am simply clumsy and I always trip over my own two feet, but I would feel much more confident if I were a quadruped. In addition, when I dream of running away from something in my sleep, I always end up switching on all fours, grasping on the ground below me with my hands, gaining velocity, because while standing I couldn’t move and was stuck, now I can run away from whatever is chasing me (in my dream) and I also am doing it fast. Was I quadruped in my previous life? Jokes apart, is bipedalism a flaw in evolution, instead of this great hallmark adaptation? Ah, the joys of questioning everything and anything, along with the pleasure (or not) of never having the right answer, but a gazillion silly hypothesis. Let’s head out for the rest of Utah, shall we?

Yellowstone National Park

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June 19, 2019

I am not sure I can express with the right words what Yellowstone is to the eyes of a binge watching queen. It’s like watching 10 seasons of 20 episodes each, all in one day. It is impossible I know, but that’s the feeling you get at taking part of this experience. It’s unbelievable. It’s majestic. It’s sensational. It’s phenomenal, extraordinary, perfect. Guess what? I spent years thinking “Oh, I wish I could go to Yellowstone, but who knows when I’ll be able to make it! Maybe never” so to quote Brendon Urie “hey look Ma, I made it”, which was, by the way, the only song the only remote radio station I could get in the park was broadcasting continuously, along with only two more songs. And the message saying “this broadcast was authorized by law one two three as this and this is now authorized to broadcast on channel one-ou-two-point-something”. On a loop. For at least 8 hours. Yes. Indeed. But who cares really when you’re in freaking YELLOWSTONE? Ya.

After last night and the storm, I thought I would wake up with bad weather having to opt for something random to do today, instead at 6AM I opened my eyes and the sun was out. Yes. Perfect. Thank you. My sore limbs inspired me to go for a run around the falls in Idaho Falls (duh) so I did. A little bit of music in the morning, and I am good to go, so off to Yellowstone, WY we go. I feel weird while driving. I can’t help but ponder on two messages I received this morning. One was from a friend I never met in person, but we worked together for an online magazine back in the day. It was one of those messages that breaks your heart, but at the same time warms it up. My stories are actually doing some good, and like I said on the first day, if I can be helpful even just for one person, then I did my homework properly. I am always thankful for such messages, and I wish I could do more. The other was from an old friend, who is now traveling the world helping people in need with her boyfriend. About this, go check them out because what they’re doing is pretty awesome, and she is simply an amazing person. Their project is called “A gadget for life“. Click on it. I drove with the feeling those two messages left within me, and I started the day with the right mood, opening up to my beloved Pachamama once I managed to find myself surrounded by it, in amazing, phantasmagoric Yellowstone National Park.

I am not going to blather today, as I want this to be a post for you all who are loving what I am doing, while seeing the world through my eyes. So this is for you. I really wish each and everyone of you could be here today. The beauty of this place soothes your soul, for real, and we all would need a soul massage every now and then.

Welcome to Heaven. Enjoy.

Idaho Falls

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June 18, 2019

Another day, another long drive. Not as excruciating as the one taking me from Canada back to the United States, but evidently my body cannot take it anymore. My legs are often sore, and despite those times I could hit the gym, it wasn’t enough. I HAVE to find the time to move, I brought my boxing gloves and my hand wraps with me, but I haven’t even used them yet. Bad girl.

I woke up in Missoula, MN, quick pit stop at Starbucks which is getting repetitive I know, but what can I do? I got my breakfast drink (today I got black tea soy latte and it reminded me so bad of Melbourne, because that is what I used to have for breakfast at my former prison-movie set house in North Melbourne. Ha. Memories. I’m still waiting for someone to invent a pill so we can choose which memory to keep and what to delete. Just putting it out there). Anyway, oh well, oh well, oh well. If my eyes could speak… wow. What I saw today I am 100% sure is the prelude to what I am going to see tomorrow, if the storm hitting Idaho right now will allow me. I won’t spoil the surprise, and I am also a little superstitious so I won’t say where I’m going yet, also because I may end up not going because of the weather, we will see. Also, no destination, remember?

I reached Idaho Falls early this afternoon after having had my mind blown by the spectacular views I experienced on the way. I’m still saying “wooooo”, “waaaaaa”, “ohmyyyyy” because it was simply all glorious! It makes me laugh that, on the radio they were talking about how people complain about taking road trips in certain States of the US because you can drive for hours and see nothing but land, no sign of civilization, getting bored and tired. I was like “whaaaat? That’s the beauty of it all!” You can just sit, drive and enjoy the view for hours. With colors changing, shapes moving, flat lands alternating with mountains, hills and plateaus! I mean, how can people even dislike such things!! Are we going completely insane? Being out of civilization, like they called it, crossing only those who are out there doing probably the same thing you’re doing, and you feel like complaining? HolymotherofbabyJesus humans are nuts.

When I stopped to put gas in the tank at Leadore, ID, the woman at the register told me how she was seeing only travelers today, more than usual. She had people going South, East, bikers going all the way up to Alaska and then there’s me, going who knows where, but it was nice to be considered among those who actually know what they’re doing with their life. Chapeau. Before passing the Idaho “border” again, I could enjoy the green of Montana with cows, horses, goats, birds, …well, animals everywhere, and it was nice to greet them, even though they couldn’t hear me, nor they wouldn’t care. I just smiled every time I had to drive through these old towns, looking like the ghost towns in the Spaghetti Western style movies, all lined up facing one big main road, with wood everywhere, dusty porch and all, saloons… and most of all, I was loving the typical wooden entrance of all the ranches I was passing by; folkloric and picturesque to say the least. Quaint and cute.

Maybe because I saw it in the movies, or because you’re used to see these landscapes in the documentaries, I was not impressed by the existence of these places, because I know they do exist; rather I was in shock they could hold such a charming and eye-catching allure by simply being empty pieces of land on a never ending scenery stretch. Wow. Just wow. I have to say that I was really getting lost in my thoughts and it all seemed infinite by the time I reached Idaho Falls, but it was so worth it. I did so many stops to take photos, to sing a song in the middle of nowhere, to wear that beam of satisfaction on my face while making a 360-degree spin to enjoy the view. Precious. Enchanting. Keep adding whatever adjective you want, you have it.

Always in Idaho Falls I found once again an amazing waterfall right at the center of the city, so I took my time strolling down the riverbanks, sitting on a rock, listening to my music first, and the sound of the water crashing and flowing after, watching how the swallows were playing in the wind, flying low, brushing the water and the foam, without getting trapped (thank goodness), and then going all the way up in the sky again, and it was just hilarious. I thought “I am saying I am enjoying my freedom, but I wonder. If I call what I have freedom, what is what they’re doing over there? It’s like the Super Saiyan version of actual freedom, I believe!” until I’ve decided to take it really easy today, and take advantage of a pool I had available. I kid you not, the very moment I sat on the chair, 30 seconds in, I get an Alert message on the phone regarding a tornado approaching, warning everyone in the area to find shelter. Explained why the afternoon was so windy, but hell, a tornado right now that I wanted to chill under the sun? Welcome to my world. Pick up the towel, go back to where it all began, and wait for this tornado to pass. Eventually it was just a storm. Then the sun came out but it was already time to set, so no tan for this lady. And the night has come, bringing another storm, until I’ll close my eyes and will wait for another tomorrow to come. Bring it on!

Spokane, WA and Missoula, MN

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June 17, 2019

After driving for hours and hours yesterday, I eventually decided to stop in Spokane, Washington State. Why? Go figure. It’s one of those cities I’ve always known it existed because I could hear it mentioned in a song or read it somewhere, and I also realized that, the way it is pronounced in one of the songs I know, it is actually the wrong pronunciation. Jolene by Ray LaMontagne sings “Cocaine flame in my bloodstream, sold my coat when I hit Spokane” making it rhyme like cocaine, instead… it’s Spo-KEN. Whatever. Right now I am dead tired and I need to sleep. I drove for around 8 to 9 hours, I took a few rest breaks, but they were not enough to stretch my legs properly, so I often had to change position to let the blood flow again on my poor little toes. Plus, all those hours I missed sleeping (or better, not sleeping) here and there before, until today, are weighing me down. Deep down. I decide to find a motel room and as soon as I hit the bed, my eyes couldn’t stay open, and I fell asleep.

When I woke up this morning I had a brand new day in front of me, until I realized there is not really much to see in Spokane. Or so they say. My friend Jordan was kind of right when last night, before falling asleep, he called me and told me “there is nothing to do or to see in Spokane, go somewhere else”; but I stayed anyway. I took advantage of a “rest day” to journal and to keep up with the things I had to do, teaching on line included, which eventually ended right before I started driving towards my last stop of the day. I spent the morning at a Starbucks, by now my go-to place where I honestly just feel safe and inspired to write. Mr. Starbucks, I am addressing you once again: in case you wanted to sponsor me, considering also all the money I spend on drinks to have an excuse to stay and use your wifi and restroom, I am here. I would also come all the way back to Seattle, if that’s the case. Pick me, choose me, love me, as Meredith said to Derek (come on, everybody knows this quote!). I then found a cute place where a nice man sold me a bottle of CBD oil (no, not the one with THC, I am not planning on getting high and dry; CBD oil as pure hemp oil, is just like any other herbal supplement you could get, just google it and stop judging. Get informed, you fools!) because I find it useful to get some relief from joint pain and whatsoever. If you want to check it out, they have an online shop too (just click on _shop_). Worth a shot.

I finally walked along the river front, where I saw the waterfalls right at the center of the city. See? There is definitely something to see in Spokane as the weather was perfect, the light was just right, the sky and the clouds reflected in the water and the whole picture looked like a painting. I enjoyed it for a bit while walking and ended up spending a whole afternoon doing nothing special, just enjoying the “free time” before two hours of teaching on line, parked behind a Starbucks (again) with people passing by thinking who knows what; maybe that I may have been a criminal or something. Right at sunset I could finally hit the road again, and I’ve decided to reach Missoula, in Montana, always without a clue of why I picked that city but, as I keep on playing by ear, I want to believe there’s some sort of good instinct behind my decisions, and to me, this is more than enough. On the way, beside the splendid sunset I could witness, thanks to a storm coming from the opposite direction, I stumbled across road works, which seemed to never end, angry truck drivers speeding way more than cars while chasing you with those big bright headlights, and a thunderstorm. Yes, lightning and all, while swishing and slaloming from Washington, through Idaho up to Montana. But I wanted to get there as I feel this need to have network coverage or mobile connection whenever I stop to sleep somewhere, because you know? You will never know. Better safe than sorry. So instead of opting for a rest area in the middle of nowhere, this time I chose a spot in the city. Missoula is more of a big town than an actual city, so I haven’t even felt in danger; I just fixed everything for the night (which came sooner than expected because I am now in another time zone), uploaded a few photos on Instagram, and fell asleep in a very uncomfortable position, which eventually had its side effects the following morning on my poor old neck and back. I know, I’m too old for this sh*t. Just shush.

Vancouver, oh Canada!

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June 15, 2019

I left Seattle at night and found a rest area to catch some quick z’s before reaching the border, as I thought it may have been a long wait. Not too long, but I had to wait in line. Every city I am visiting (except for San Francisco) is leaving me a good feeling of “it could be nice moving here”, Santa Cruz above all, of course, but I know it would be like my Malibu, in the sense that even now, living in LA, Malibu is my secret escape, so I can’t really be there for long, or I’d get tired. Habit and flatness bore me, and I’d rather have my favorite places to turn to when things go wrong or I need a refill of energy and good vibes. Therefore, Santa Cruz: stay golden and I’ll come see you again. Portland was cute, Seattle was compelling. Damn, this world is beautiful. I so wish I could do this forever but with better circumstances, something like getting paid to go from place to place and do something good for the world. Yes, society yes. For society, despite the anger, the frustration, the dislike and all. My aversion for those I call “children of society” is clear, I know, you can see it in my eyes after a few minutes in a conversation. But I also know I have to accept compromises every now and then, so… I’m a grown up, at times, I know what the deal is, yo.

Before entering Canada, early in the morning, I did laundry and re-packed my Sienna, nice and clean. I am ready. With my mind full, my stomach empty and a sore body, I waited for my turn in line, dancing a little to wake me up and face the last hour or so of driving, before entering Vancouver. The officer was nice, he asked the same old questions: why are you here, where are you traveling from, what’s your job, where do you live, how long are you staying, do you have alcohol, drugs, whatever… yadda, yadda, I was in Canada. Again. After almost 10 years. Weird. Fun. Vancouver looked pretty and well-ordered, downtown seemed to be less chaotic than the cities I spent the last days driving through, and I could easily find a parking garage where I left my car for the whole day while visiting and walking around. Many are complaining to me, saying I can’t see much of a city in just one day or even less, which is partly true, but I am here to steal with my eyes whatever I can, I am not on vacation. I noticed I am basically binging on all this driving and seeing places, so it just turns out my binging habits will never leave me alone. Nice. All I can say in my defense is that I know. I know you should stay longer to appreciate anything: the city itself, the food, the places, the people, but where would I stay? What I am doing is different than what people do when traveling around. I feel like Truman when sailing away to prove his doubts were real. I am sailing away with an unknown destination, to see if my reality is actually true. I need to touch with my hands the end of this bubble called Earth. How about that?

The first thing I want to do is seeing the city, and I find a place where you can actually see it from above: the Top of Vancouver Tower has a lookout area right below the Restaurant, where I obviously could not go for now, but who knows? If I’ll be able to go back in the future, I’ll hit the restaurant with a view, first. I sometimes feel like I am doing all this as if I had to die tomorrow. (Scroll shoulder, who knows) Ergo I gotta run run run and see see see things. Who knows, maybe I am dying tomorrow, or the day after. On a happier note, I managed to have a great meal at a vegan spot called Indigo Café, and a banana muffin with a lavender tea latte in a place called Waves so I could get wifi and update you all. I spent the afternoon walking up to Stanley Park which is immense. All went well, until I saw the horse-drawn tours offered around the park. Is it really necessary to treat horses like trucks dragging trailers with up to fifty passengers? I mean, I would already complain for a carriage holding two people, but like this? With only two poor horses pulling like there’s no tomorrow? Appalling. Those creatures looked tired and sad, so I approached them and started petting their noses. They let me share some loving, wishing I had some kind of telepathic connection I kept on telling them “I’m sorry little horsey, I am sorry. We’re trying” and for a moment I thought they could feel it, to the point that after a minute or two, they would push their head against my hand as to say “we know, thank you for trying”. Each of the four wonderful beasts would let me loving them for a really short bit, while people around me stared as if I were some kind of a joke human, or a hipster who turned out pretty bad-resembling one. I don’t know, I only cared about those animals, having to suffer with the heat, under the sun and all. I confess I cried a little while gazing at their big round black eyes, I suppose they saw that. But you did not. So photo or it never happened. No photo, sorry.

Apart from the inconvenience with the exploitation of animals, Vancouver still left me with good vibes. I found a place called “Vancouver Pen Shop” where they were selling everything for writing, writers, anyone… pens, paper, journals, books, anything I love. And it took me back to when I used to ask my brother, me being a young girl, annoying and demanding, to bring me home a gift from the city he lived in, while studying at the University, and he used to ask: like what? “Like…a pen! Just a pen. I’d love to have a new pen“. Eh, cwazwy. Mo’ memories, mo’ problems. Anyway, I could easily walk from one side to the other of downtown, and I enjoyed the walk and the view, although it would have been nice to have someone with me, to stop somewhere for dinner, or sharing the view, I don’t know. I get this feeling every once in a while, but for the rest I’m ok on my own, having no one to account for, adapt to, or report to: where are you? What are you doing? What time …this? What …that? Blaaaaah. Getting tired by the minute here so I ended my excursion and waited till the morning to see a little bit more before leaving, looking for my companion -the road, to join me on my way back to the US.

Sequoia and Kings Canyon

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June 9, 2019

On June 9th, she left.

8AM on the clock, after saying bye to Teresa, her family and my crazy LeoBear pup, I fixed the driver seat, water bottle on my right, and destination: unknown.

On the way I thought I could stop at Veronica’s near Calabasas, and get a quick chat, a hot tea for breakfast, and a hug before the long drive. I also needed to fill up the tank because I forgot to do it in Burbank. Typical me. Said and done, halfway through the morning I was headed North. Couldn’t believe how the highway could be packed on a Sunday morning, but it’s LA, what do you want me to say? So, after a couple slow downs, I reached Sequoia and Kings Canyon National Park with my cute little “America the Beautiful” pass that grants me access to basically all the national parks in the US. Win. I know.

If I thought Sequoia was packed with people, I had to re-think and actually correct my statement the following day at Yosemite. Damn people, you really are everywhere, every time, every day. Wow. Thank goodness I had my moments in Sequoia. It felt good. No wait, it felt great. I felt connected, wildlife was all around me and I was feeling like a little girl in a playground or a toy store. When I started hiking I looked like a bummed boy, thinking “boo, what I am doing here, boo too many people, boo” but then… surprise! The paths I was choosing were almost all empty, I was literally going the opposite way everyone was going (no wonder), and just following my instincts I spent most of the afternoon in peace, surrounded by mother nature, her sounds, her children, her everything. Marvelous.

Walking back from the Sunset rock I recalled when I was a little girl on a summer camp with my friends, probably around 10 or 12 years old, and halfway through the week of “vacation” we had to go on an all-day long hike, and I was always sad about it. Eh, I was not a fan of hikes back then. I am now though, a whole lot, so there’s that. I remember thinking, in order to get me excited, that as a reward from, I don’t know, God? I had to see a wolf in the woods while hiking, so I just had to keep walking and it would happen. Seeing wild wolves in the Alps is not so common, or at least not in those areas where kids are taken for their summer camps. Long story short, at the cabin where we stopped to picnic, the owners had adopted a grey wolf they found as a pup (or so they said) and she was sitting there, next to our bench, chained to a pole with part of her fur falling off because they said “being kept in captivity makes her stress out”. Yeah, no wonder!!! Mixed feelings back then, deep anger recalling it now. But again, thinking about my “deal with the universe” at that time makes me smile now that I’ve done kind of the same thing while hiking through the Sequoias. Gimme more, gimme more.

Why yes, I got rewarded. I spotted a brown bear (my guide animal -just saying. How do I know? Eh, long story I may share in another post!) chewing on a wooden log, so close that my first instinct was to approach her and hug her just like I did for the whole week with LeoBear. Instead, I remember what I read on the pamphlet they gave us: keep wildlife wild. Stay at least a two-buses-length distance from them. Scare them away… and whatever, at the “scare them away” point they lost me, so I just stood there waiting for her to finish. I waited, giggled, and to be honest, I was also waiting for someone else to come closer so that, if anything happened, at least they could report a dead woman, eaten by a bear, to the authorities. I moved closer and hoped the bear could see me. She did. The moment she made eye contact, I turned, as if to say “no worries, I am leaving you alone”. I guess it worked. She snorted a little, thing I interpreted as “effin humans” and she moved away. While this was happening, a guy approached from behind me and I could hear him getting scared and stopping suddenly. So I turned, smiled at him, and whispered “beware of the bear”. He smiled back, and we kept walking. Happy girl over here, thanking nature for this encounter.

I went up to Bear Hill and spotted a couple more friends: a beaver so cute I wanted to squeeze him, a few deers, birds all over, squirrels, chipmunks, lizards… and I guess I was the only one actually talking to them, greeting them with “hey Bamby-boy, what’s up?” or something like that. Eventually I found myself hiking all the way up to the Moro Rock where swallows were either fighting or mating, chirping like there’s no tomorrow. Funny. On the way back to the car I spotted another cute little bear (smaller this time) and there were a bunch of humans all taking pictures with their phones, while I just walked passed him and hoped he was safe. The completely deserted trail felt unsafe at times, but eventually I was just laughing at myself for even worrying. At least, if I had to die eaten by a bear, that would be a nice way to go. No kidding.

Now, for those of you who are more “visual”, here are a few photos. Enjoy.