Half-Time

Yesterday was the day I had been dreading.

I started anticipating its approach about a month ago, bracing myself against its onslaught. I expected the realization of its significance to hit me like a ton of bricks, forcing me with its arrival to acknowledge my deepest feelings and doubts.

Well, none of that came to pass. Like a minor birthday or anniversary, this seemingly-important day came and went with an anti-climactic "wah waaaaah".

Yesterday, you see, was the half-way point of our trip. In exactly six months, we will have taken the last flight of our round the world ticket. In six months we’ll be back in Europe. Back home.

In six months, it will all be over.

So you can imagine that we expected to feel some profound emotion about the passing of that milestone: pride, dread, relief, I don’t know, something.

But really, the only thing we felt was acceptance.  We realize that we have as much time ahead of us as we do behind us; that there is as much opportunity to experience the world as we have already experienced in the last six months.

And we can accept that.

We have no regrets, no bad feelings about the passing of time, no real desire to slow down or speed up the clock. Looking back, we have done a lot since the start of the trip. On one hand, it feels like the time has flown by, but on the other hand, we feel like the start of our trip was years ago.

For example, I was thinking about our jungle tour the other day and what we were wearing during certain parts of it. It was an unexpected shock to realize that the clothes in our backpacks back then are the exact same clothes that are still in our backpacks almost six months later. The jungle feels like another trip completely, something far off in our pasts. It’s as if traveling has become our normal, everyday life, and each new place we go is a separate mini-vacation that has nothing to do with the previous destination.

People keep asking us how we are feeling now that we are half way through our trip: Are we still liking it? Are we sick of travelling? Have we started thinking about what we will do when it’s over? The short answer is yes, no and kinda.

The long answer is that we are (still) loving this trip. Seriously, I don’t know how better to express it. This has been the best decision of our lives and we are having an absolute blast. Every new place we go and new experience we have teaches us more about the world, about each other and about ourselves.

And it’s fun. Whether we are visiting a chaotic market in Bolivia with dead sheep opened up on the sidewalk, having a heated political discussion with one of our volunteering hosts or road-tripping around New Zealand in a giant camper van singing George Michael songs, we are having a fantastic time and making memories that we will never forget. I don’t know how better to explain it without sounding like a Hallmark card.

And no, we are not sick of travelling. For that, I thank our decision to volunteer along the way. Staying in one place to work for a few weeks every three months or so gives us a much-needed break from the little stresses and discomforts of backpacking that can wear on you after a while. Volunteering gives us a break from hostels and bus rides, from spending money and constantly being on the move. By the time we are finished with a volunteering assignment, we are ready, excited even, to get back on the road. This little respite, in addition to the invaluable learning opportunity working abroad provides us, makes volunteering one of the best parts of the trip.

Before we started this year-long adventure, we were worried about the things that we would have to live without, the comforts of “normal” life that we would miss along the way. Highest on that list was our own space: our own glorious, comfortable, solitary place that we could call our own. Surprisingly though, we haven’t really had a problem finding that, even on the road. We had it in our tiny cabin on the farm when we were volunteering in Argentina, when we rented an apartment in Chile, when we had our camper van in New Zealand. Sure, it’s not our own couch in our cozy apartment in Switzerland, but we quickly adapted and realized that it is possible to find our own little space in the world, no matter where we are.

There are a few things, however, that we do miss. Before I get into them, let me preface it by saying that these are tiny, insignificant little holes in our comfort. They are puny nothings and do not hinder our enjoyment of the trip in the least. I always feel like the biggest a-hole complaining or talking about what I don’t have when I am in the middle, literally, of an incredible life experience that few people are lucky enough to have. So, please, take this with a grain of salt and forgive me for being an insolent, unappreciative brat, especially after you hear what I'm about to say.

I miss looking good. There, I said it. It’s lame, I know, but it’s true. I miss dressing up and wearing heels.  I miss picking out an outfit, doing my make-up and then looking in the mirror and loving what I see (and yes, I said that too: loving it). It’s been over six months since I have used a hair dryer, since I’ve worn heels or perfume or lipstick. It’s been six months since I’ve worn jeans for god’s sake. And I actually miss all of that. I find myself looking at pictures Vincent took of me to test his camera before the trip with a kind of nostalgic longing that one normally reserves for a someone who has passed away. I mean, look at the “before” pictures:

RIP, hot stuff.

And now look at what I’ve been reduced to after six months of zip-off pants and sports bras.

Oh, the androgyny!

At first, having a minimalist beauty routine and wardrobe was liberating. It felt good not to care. But, damnit, I do care. And I’m not the only one.

Vincent has admitted as well that he’s fed up wearing the same convertible pants every day. He’s sick of having only one option when he wants to dress up, which happens to be exactly what he wears when he dresses down. He too longs for his old wardrobe of nice clothes and something other than hiking shoes to put on when we go out.

And it’s not just us. Other long-term travelers we talk to say the same thing. I remember one Swiss guy we met who had been traveling for five months and said that he couldn’t wait to get back to work simply because he wanted to wear a suit again. I wouldn’t go that far, but I do understand the sentiment.

Beyond our wardrobes- and this too will induce serious eye rolls- we also miss working out and having a routine for staying in shape. Yep, we are those assholes, the kind who actually miss exercising. True, we do quite a bit of walking and hiking, but I miss running so bad it hurts and Vincent yearns for his daily (well, every other day) hour at the gym. Yes, we can do make-shift exercises in our hostel room or I could run in my hiking shoes, but it’s not the same. Neither of us miss having any other routine- our jobs can suck it, for example- but not working out, really working out, has been much more difficult than we expected.

And it shows. As Vincent says, we are both a little “soft” these days…

But other than those two tiny complaints, we really don’t miss anything else. Sorry, that sounded douchey: of course we miss our friends and families too, but we expected that.  And honestly, with our friends and family spread out all over the world, we often go six months without seeing many of our loved ones anyway.  

The last question we get- do you know what you are going to do after the trip?- is one that I can’t even begin to answer in any way that isn’t flaky and noncommittal and confusing. But of course I’ll try anyway, mostly because I love the sound of my own voice.

We have had a lot to consider between the different places we have been and the kinds of volunteer work we have been doing. I personally have driven Vincent crazy with my repetitive assertion nearly every place we go that “I could live here.” It drives him insane, but it’s true! Buenos Aires, Auckland, Sydney, the countryside inland from Byron Bay; I could totally live in any of those places. Or I could happily go back to Switzerland.

See why this makes Vincent want to throw things?

Really, we are still so open that the only tentative plan we have for when the trip is over is that we are going to look for jobs in any of the places mentioned above (and any other we love in the coming six months) and see what comes up. If that's not flaky and non-committal, I don't know what is.

So that is our half-way checkup: what’s good (pretty much everything), what’s bad (lookin’ like a dude all the time) and what’s to come (most likely more places I’ll want to live in).

To wrap this up, I’ll tell you a little story to illustrate my previously expressed woes. I was looking through the “cute” pictures of me from before the trip when Vincent asked me what I was doing.

“Oh, I’m looking at pictures of myself before the trip.”

“Back when you were skinny and tan?” Vincent asked.

With a look that I hoped would turn my husband into a smoldering pile of ash, I responded, “Back when I was skinny?!”

As if correcting me, Vincent added, “And tan." 

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We Get By with a Little Help from our Friends

You know, we say that we have been backpacking for over four months now, but that’s a lie.

We were backpacking for the first two months, yes, but these past nine weeks have been so ridiculously easy that I can’t honestly call it backpacking. Backpacking shouldn’t feel like vacation. You aren’t here to read about beautiful ocean views and local wines and gourmet meals; you’re here to read about crazy shit we see, eat, smell, and hear- and the stomach problems and discomfort that go with it. No one reads a travel blog to be told that everything’s just wonderful and perfect. Wonderful is boring.

Diarrhea and dead seals on the other hand: blog post gold.

Let’s recap the past two months of “backpacking.” First, it was volunteering, which was like a mix of work and visiting a favorite aunt, and during which we had our own living space and didn’t even touch our backpacks. Then, after a brief one-week stint drinking wine and hiking, we got to spend a weekend visiting Devin, an old high-school buddy of mine from Columbia, who lives in an incredible house in the mountains above Santiago. Seriously, the dude has a lemon and orange orchard in his yard. His front deck is shaded by climbing grape vines. It’s like the Garden of freaking Eden up there.We barely even ventured into Santiago, which seemed like a really cool city the few hours we were there, because we were just so happy and at home where we were.

To top it off, Devin rivaled Rosie as the world’s most gracious host, only our job at his home was barbequing and drinking wine on his porch all weekend. It was hard work, but we’re tough. From Devin’s house, we went to Horcon, which, as you know, felt like a luxury vacation instead of hardcore budget travel and then, get this, we went back to Devin’s!

Backpacking is so hard, you guys.

If you read my last post (and if you didn’t, why the hell not?), you know that we then went to Easter Island, which was so awesome I don’t even know what to do with myself, and then, because we hadn’t had enough of him, we went back to Santiago and saw Devin again!

Yeah, I know, we’re creepy.

But this time, it wasn’t just Devin’s company we got to enjoy, we also had the wonderful last-minute surprise of getting to meet up with Willemijn and Roeland, our good friends from Switzerland who are actually Dutch. Confused yet?

Willie and Roeland are also doing an around the world trip and started around the same time as us, only going the other direction. So while we were in South America getting ready to fly to New Zealand, they were in New Zealand coming over to South America. Because South America is kinda a big place, we had accepted that we probably wouldn’t be in the same place at the same time, but an airport change to their itinerary put them in Santiago the day before we flew out!

During that day and a half, we were too busy catching up, sharing travel stories and marveling at how we were actually all together in South America to take any pictures, so just imagine the four of us, lots of beers and laughter, and an inhumane amount of ceviche.

We were so sad to say good-bye to each other after only 36 hours together, but it was amazing to be able to share our experience with good friends who were going through the exact same thing. We had all talked so much before the trips- planning itineraries, sharing ideas, comparing super-cool technical gear- that it just felt bizarre to be together again, talking about our trips in the present tense, instead of the future.  It also made us realize that the next time we all see each other, our respective travels will be over, and we’ll only be talking in the past tense.

Needless to say, I was in tears when we said good-bye.

Now, you might be thinking, “Hey, those guys are really lucky to have cool, international friends who they can meet up with during their trip.” And you’d be right. 

But you don’t know the half of it (or I guess the one-third of it, but that sounds lame and I hate math): one of my best friends (I have two best friends- I know, I’m a third-grader) is meeting us in New Zealand tomorrow!

Keeping up with the trend of our friends being fascinating, cosmopolitan world-travelers, my friend Ashley is tacking a week’s vacation onto her current work trip in Sydney (she's working at Sydney's Fashion Week- how glamorous is that?) and is flying to meet us in Auckland for six days. Considering V and I have just spent the last week living on top of each other in a tiny camper van, I for one am really looking forward to hanging out with Ashley.

So as if our travels haven't been ridiculously easy and comfortable as it is, we have also been able to enjoy several big pieces of home even while on the road these past two months. 

And that wasn’t a reference to the Swiss chocolate my sister-in-law Elodie sent us, although that was almost as comforting as seeing our friends. Sorry guys.

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Two Month Check-up, Part two: Itinerary and Plans

This is another check-up post. If you have no idea what that means, go back to this post.

In Part Two of the two month check-up series, I'm going to go into the fascinating (not really) details of how our plans and itinerary have changed since we started. Hope you are sitting down for this one...

How has your itinerary changed from your original plan?
The itinerary has changed drastically since we first planned it and is still in a state of constant flux. Before we even left for the trip, we gave our original route a complete overhaul. As 99% of our decisions are made on the fly, our plan has continued to change as we go. Our actual itinerary, which I've been too lazy to update for the last two weeks, is HERE.

When we started the trip, we thought that we would have a basic idea of our destinations and would more or less follow the plan. That hasn't really been the case. We started out disciplined enough but as time went on, our plans kind of went to hell and we started just making it up as we went. Which has worked out just fine. We've really enjoyed several places that we originally had no intention of visiting and we have no regrets about those to which we never made it. Once in a destination, we simply look at a map and bus schedule to figure out where we want to go next. We often need to at least consider two or three steps ahead to make sure we are moving in a direction that makes sense, but we rarely know where we will be a week from any given day.

Examples of how our itinerary has changed just in the last eight weeks: We never planned to go to Arequipa or Mollendo; we originally planned to go into the Brazilian Amazon, not the Bolivian Amazon;  we had planned to cross into Argentina from Bolivia, not through Chile (in fact, we hadn't planned to hit Chile until April!); we thought we would go south from Salta and instead, we went east to Buenos Aires, with a random, unplanned forray into Uruguay, where we happen to be now. The biggest, and for me, most heart-breaking, however practical, change we have made is that we are taking Brazil off our itinerary. I desperately want to go, but we have neither the time nor the budget to do the enormous country justice and it just doesn't make sense to do (and pay for) 80 hours of bus to get to and from Rio just to spend one week. Flights are prohibitively expensive, so the land of thongs, Samba, Cachaça and beautiful people will have to wait for another trip. And there will be another trip.

At the moment, we are also looking at changing some of the Asian portion of our trip, but since that's still a question mark, I'll wait until the next check-up to cover it.

What about volunteering? Are you still planning to do that?
Yes! We still plan to volunteer while we are in South America and are in the process of finalizing what we are going to do and when. We know that we will spend at least two weeks working on an organic farm in El Bolson, Argentina, in northern Patagonia, and might do two more weeks working in an eco-friendly bed and breakfast.Volunteering remains a key goal of our trip and as much fun as it is cavorting around the continent with no schedule or responsibility, we are ready for a challenge and some good old fashioned hard work. Plus, our budget demands that we get free room and board at some point. So there's that.

How does your original plan for your trip hold up to the reality?
I am going to do a separate post about our impressions and feelings, but regarding pure logistics, the way we are travelling is quite different than how we envisioned it before we left. When we originally planned the itinerary, we thought we'd spend two days here, three days there, moving a couple times a week. In reality, we are much happier and appreciative of the trip when we go to less places but spend more time in each. At this point, we are averaging around 3 or 4 nights in each destination, which is a sustainable rhythm that allows us to do a lot without feeling like we are just rushing from place to place, simply to check it off our list. 

So there's the planning check-up. I'm sure we'll have many, many more changes to our itinerary. In the next check-up, I'll cover how the trip itself has held up to our expectations, which hopefully will be a little more interesting than this white bread cheese sandwich of a post. 

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Two Month Check-up, Part One: Gear

As most good ideas do, the idea of a check-up post came from my dad. He sent me an email with several questions about how our plans, expectations, gear, etc. are holding up so far. These are questions we keep getting, but since the answers are dynamic, I didn't want to add them to the FAQ page and have to eat my words later on. Since most of these questions warrant answers that are posts in and of themselves, I'm going to split it up by question or theme and do a few separate posts. So here it is-- The FAQs Two Month Check-Up, Part One: Gear.

Warning: There will be no pictures of pretty landscapes in this post. I know, I'm as disappointed as you are.

How has your gear held up? Are there things you wish you had brought or things you regret bringing?

At this point, we are both extremely happy with what we brought and, equally as important, what we didn't bring. We have some of the smallest and emptiest bags of the other backpackers we see, which makes us pretty proud of ourselves. We also have some of the dorkiest, most technical clothes and the least cool, decent things to wear in cities, which makes us completely uncomfortable until we realize that, unlike those backpackers in jeans, we can actually carry our bags without hating life. Suck it, jeans-wearers.

While overall, we are pretty obsessed with ourselves for packing so well, there are a couple changes we would make if we had to do it all over again. There are also a few things we have that make us happy every time we look at them because they are just that useful. I'll touch on all of those things below.


Things we should have brought with us-
-A knife-free wine opener. It's a crime how terrible the hostel openers are and how difficult it is to buy a decent one. We need a good opener that we can bring on planes and just can't seem to find what we are looking for.
-Vincent: One less long-sleeve sport shirt and one more technical button down shirt. Vincent has exactly one outfit that he can wear to a restaurant or out to a bar. It's not as if we go out that much, but it gets a little embarrassing when we meet the same people out for drinks two nights in a row.
-Elissa: One decent (i.e. not technical) cardigan or sweater. I have a fleece and two long sleeve shirts, but nothing I can throw over a dress or a tank top if I want to dress up. We both underestimated that we might actually want to look like normal people this year.
-Anything else we didn't bring, we've simply bought along the way, which is much more fun anyway. Among those are comfy pants for V and accessories for E.


Things we brought that we don't use:
Really, not a lot.
I had one too many tank-tops, which worked out perfectly because I've already lost the one I liked least. Vincent hasn't really used his long underwear shirt, but I borrowed it when I lost my fleece. If I keep losing tops at this rate, I'll be completely out by June!
Vincent brought the perfect amount of clothes, but too many security accessories, like two different wire locks and two different money belts, when he really only uses one of each.


Things we brought that make us want to hug ourselves with pride for being so damn clever:
- Our X-Mini mini-speaker for our iPods. It's ultra small and light, but with it, we can make a hostel dinner that much more romantic, bring our tunes to the beach, or drown out the voices of people who annoy us. Genius.
- Our Petzl head lamps (thanks Dad and Theresa!). From hiking up to Machu Picchu at 4:00am to camping during a trek to looking for my earplugs at the bottom of my bag on an overnight bus, these guys are a life-saver and are perfectly travel-sized.
- Our Kindle (again, thanks Dad and Theresa). I really hesitated to get a Kindle due to my loyalty to actual books. While the Kindle will never replace my loaded bookshelves, it is an incredible investment for traveling. Not only are all of our guidebooks stored on the tiny, light-weight device, but we also have the choice of thousands of books for entertainment, both in English and French, for the long bus rides and not-long-enough down time during our travels. We still have actual books that we are carrying, but the Kindle is an amazing fall-back when the hostel book exchanges only have German novels and the Twilight saga.
- Our backpacks. We both have Deuter ACT Lite backpacks that we protect with Sea to Summit pack covers (another awesome investment). The bags have been everything we wanted them to be: light, spacious, comfortable and, so far, durable. We are in love with our little temporary homes.
- Our Exped inflatable pillows. These things are life-savers in hostels with flat pillows, on overnight buses and during camping and trekking trips. They fold up really small and are lightweight, but are also super comfortable. We are obsessed.

Vincent's favorite things (Vincent claims that guys don't do things like gush about their travel gear, so here's what I could pry out of him):
- V uses a Pacsafe money belt to carry large amounts of cash. He doesn't use it when he needs a couple bucks for a bottle of water, but it comes in handy when we have a lot of cash on us and don't want it easily pickpocketed. It looks just like a normal belt, but has an interior zip that holds money.
- He also couldn't travel without his iPhone. We use it to get online in wifi zones, to hold important documents, to call hostels from the bus, to play music and listen to audio books, as an electronic Spanish dictionary, to play Uno on bus trips, etc., etc., etc. It is definitely a luxury, but it makes life so much easier.

Elissa's favorite things (I definitely have no problem gushing):
- My leggings/ long underwear pants. Warm, light-weight and practical, yes, but with a long tanktop, sandals and the right jewelry, they also make a decent outfit for a city. They are also the perfect "comfy pants" for wearing around the hostel room. They were a last minute addition to my gear and I'm so glad I brought them.
- My sandals. Ok, I have to be honest. I'm really not proud of this, but here it goes: I am travelling with a pair of Crocs. Now before you close out of this window and disown me, they aren't the hideous clogs, they are actual sandals and I love them. Here they are: 

I mean, they aren't going to end up in the pages of Vogue or anything, but their shape and rubber fabrication allow me to wear them everywhere from the shared hostel showers (ew) to a tango bar in Buenos Aires. And, as all clog-wearing Croc owners can attest, they are "sooo comfortable."
- My Lush solid shampoo and conditioner bar. I've already talked about this in the FAQs page but it's great enough that it merits another mention.
- Lastly, my over-sized, square-shaped, cotton scarf (merci Christian et Michelle!) that I use as a scarf, a turban, a beach wrap, a picnic blanket, a cover in air-conditioned buses, a towel and a pillow. It is incredibly resistant, polyvalent and practical, and I would recommend something like it to anyone who wants to travel light.


So there you have it, our gear check-up after two months of traveling in a variety of situations and climates. These opinions are subject to change, so I'll do another check-up if my backpack disintegrates tomorrow or if one more person makes fun of my Crocs.

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