We only had one night on the Orient Express. You could go longer. You could start in Rome and have two nights on the train (and if I could do this again, and had much more money, this would be it.) Continue reading
Before I continue, I need to take a moment to compliment every single person who works for the brand that is Orient Express. Their attention to detail is phenomenal, but my travel agent Heather was so spectacular that I wrote letters of praise to anyone who would listen.
So when I’m about to complain about the hotels where we were booked, know that I do not blame her. Continue reading
Yesterday would have been my parents’ 37th wedding anniversary. It made me remember how there was supposed to be a third person on this trip with my mom.
Dad. Continue reading
Did I mention that seconds after Mom showed me her dead cell phone, I found her boarding pass on the floor of the restaurant?
This is when I confiscated all of her travel documents, and would not let her have them in her possession… until we ended up in a fight while being forced to go through customs in Canada.
”Canada!” you say. “But I thought you guys were going to Europe!”
Yes, dear reader. Thank you for paying attention. I will tell you all about Canada, but not until later, because right now in this story Mom and I are still trying to get out of Newark. Continue reading
While I was eating dinner tonight “Sentimental Journey” played over the restaurant’s speakers. I’m well aware that I probably heard it more because I was sensitive to hearing it, but I still think it was a gentle reminder that I needed to get my ass in gear and write up these stories. Continue reading
We spent our last two nights at Senor Robin’s, the only high-rise apartment I know where the roosters still wake you at four in the morning. The second to the last day we went out to visit a school in a breathtakingly beautiful place called Patzicia, where we hung out with the kids during recess and I was reminded once again that I really don’t know enough Spanish. Continue reading
I really wrote all of that stuff before so I could tell you this, my favorite story from the trip.
Okay, look. We’ve been through a lot together, you guys. So here is where I tell you that I was two hours into the road trip to Solola, at a gas station in the middle of nowhere, in a caravan where I still hadn’t learned everybody’s name, when I got my period. Continue reading
baseball cap / bandanas / combat boots
Despite my fall, I was dressed rather appropriately for the amount of hiking and manual labor that was ahead of us. At one point we were met by one of the Good Neighbors Guatemala staff, a tiny Korean girl named Genesis, who was in skinny jeans, a scarf, boots with heels, and other fancy clothes. I admired her ability to dart around the dirt floors, carry cinder blocks, and take down notes in ball point pen on the palm of her hand so that she can help with a future installation of a cookstove. Continue reading
iPhone / Camera / Video Camera
People who know me at all right now are probably asking themselves, “Okay, fine, Pamie. You went to Guatemala. Now skip to the part where you fall.”
First of all, how dare you.
Secondly, it’s right here. Continue reading
“You’ve only known these people for a week?! Pam, you are so brave!”
“Some would call it ‘crazy.’”
Even saying I’d known my traveling partners for a week was being a bit generous. We’d had two meetings over that week, and a few frantic emails on my end. Total amount of time I’d known these people before I left the country with them: about three hours. Continue reading