My 100th (!) post: My favorite journal entry

My knees are sore from caving under the Danube River in Hungary.

My heart is hurt from one of my traveling mates and I hate the way it lingers on me and the way I make up that everything is fine. But, I am passing a sea of sunflowers on the train, acres of yellow reaching tall into the sky.

The warm breeze is blowing in our car, saving us from the August humidity soaking into my skin.

 We slept on a concrete bench at the train station last night and washed clothes in the sink. I think I am really traveling now.

At this point we have been on the road a month and we have trained, trammed, bussed...

 flown, ferried, walked...

run, and swam our way to get here in this moment.

 We are leaving Hungary where we have relaxed in the baths in the city park,

danced until dawn on Margot Island,

and made some of the best traveling companions of our time away.

And it came at the perfect moment because after being in Prague,

and stranded in Poland questioning our path,

we found our motivation and our fantasy world by continuing on.

 We may have been three bored little girls looking for an adventure but what an adventure it has been.

 I love gyros, and tea, and ciaos.

I have cheered on the World Cup with new friends and travel companions,

I know the places and the people. I have stood in the train windows watching the coast and the Adriatic Sea blow by.

I have 8 types of currency in my wallet, was detained at the border in Slovakia, I have celebrated Spain's birthday on their beaches.

I leave each hostel with names and e-mails written down my arm of the countless best friends I have made. My feet are throbbing from walking and I couldn't fit into heels if you paid me; but my legs are strong and I believe I am capable of anything.

I love hoisting my pack high on my shoulders and strapping it on with less wobbles each time. I love where it is worn away where my hips ride against it. My pack is my home; it gives me a strange feeling of comfort and I can feel a smile creep along my face as I throw it on my back. It is my pillow in airports, my seat on trains, my bed in train stations.

It has been hoisted up mountains, it has walked streets of the world, it has been soaked in rain storms of Monteverde, laid on the beach in Croatia. It has been thrown in shuttles, under buses and holds my experiences, my souvenirs, my locks. It is the one constant in this nomadic lifestyle.

My books have been swapped from El Salvador to Istanbul and each opens releasing sand from beaches around the world falling out of the pages that have flown with me from Ibiza to Croatia.

I have seen Auschwitz and sat in a gas chamber.

I have fallen in love with Budapest.

I have drank from the aqueducts of Italy.

And bike through the streets of Amsterdam.

 I wear two outfits - one to spend my days and a second for nightly dinners and dancing and pub crawls. I have had drunken kisses, rambling conversation, and made great memories.

I have felt like family at Carpe Noctem and contemplating staying forever. I have woken up to coffee waiting and sitting with my best friends who were strangers the day before.

I live off free breakfasts and only the items that fit in my pack. We never know what country we will be in tomorrow but survive by the kindness and directions of strangers and for every place I have been, I have added three more to explore next.

I honestly don’t know how were going to stop.

Shootin' the Hooch

I love the beginnings of Summer.

It's hot and my pale skin soaks up every last drop of sunshine, everyone wants to play outside late into the evening, and we spend every moment possible on the lake and in the river.

If you live in or around Atlanta, Shootin' the Hooch in your kayak or on inflatable tubes is an event that you must participate in at some point to escape the Georgia heat. It is something I have done every summer for as long as I can remember and each trip is just as enjoyable.

You can head North and rent $3 tubes in Helen and float through the German inspired town meandering by bars and restaurants to be picked up by a shuttle bus at the end. The river is cleaner up North but also very shallow. If you head this way remember river shoes because you will ground yourself at some point or another. Which may mean you get left behind - never on purpose of course!

The other option is to stay South, bring your own tubes and coolers, and hop in the river to float through Roswell, the Vinings, and Buckhead. Make sure to get extra thick tubes just in case.

Going this route you will pass under 285 and see a different part of the madness of city life.

And realize it really is possible to get away right in the middle of it all. 

If you choose to kayak and want a longer paddle through town make sure to put in farther up stream where the river is deeper. We have decided to float from these points and it is slow moving without oars.  Check out the float times from each of the drop in locations, you can leave a car for the day for $3 at both the drop off/in spots. 

But on a beautiful day with friends and drinks in tow (literally) there is no better, almost FREE summer activity.   

 If you do take longer than a 3 hour trek, just remember this is Georgia in the Summer and there's a good chance that a sky like this,

 will quickly be this..

 but wait it out because that sun will be back and hopefully the rain will get that river moving.

ibiza.

When my friend Simon found out I would be traveling through Spain, he told me about this magical little island off the coast. He is a British expat and rambled on about the ridiculous beaches and parties that never stopped. When he began to beg me to bring him along on, I knew then that I had to find my way to Ibiza. 

For lack of a better analogy, Ibiza is Las Vegas to the nth degree – minus the gambling and with the addition of day long beach parties, clubs that hold over 10,000 party goers, and just the small fact that you are on a beach paradise with yachts endlessly drifting by. 

Ibiza is located in the Mediterranean Sea about 80 miles off the coast of Valencia but don’t be fooled – there is nothing here that will remind you of Spain. No Catalan language to remember and no cultural experiences that I will tell you are not to miss. If it is culture you are looking for, you are about to get a crash course in club culture. And that is just the reason you come.  

Hotels will begin to open by April and the end of May will mark the beginning of the club openings as Ibiza is filled with British 20-somethings frolicking about on their holidays from school. They come in droves to sell club tickets and party their days away on a never-ending spring break.  

I will admit that I partied to more house music than I care to admit, in the biggest club in the world, for days on end. But, this was long before the EDM culture took root in the youth of America, when you had to venture to the streets of Europe to find Tiesto as a house DJ in Privilege or Swedish House Mafia every Monday night - so can I get some credit? 

We took Easy Jet from Madrid with two bachelor parties and passengers drinking and partying on the plane – so I knew this was going to be good. We arrived at 10pm and the sun was still up and brutally hot because in Ibiza it doesn’t matter what time or day you go. The summer is a perpetual Saturday night and the weekends linger for days. 

There are two main town centers to stay, San Antonio on the west end and Ibiza Town on the southern shore. San Antonio hosts restaurants, bars, and the “Sunset Strip” that founded party life in Ibiza with Es Paradis, Ocean Beach, and Eden Ibiza. 

•  Walk the strip early to catch great drink specials at Linerks before heading to the clubs where drink prices are as ridiculous as the atmosphere. Employees will be handing out wristbands for free entry before a certain time or free shots to get you in. You can walk the Sunset Strip and never spend a dime.     

             

• Walk to the tip of the island to enjoy sundowners at Cafe del Mar and experience the most beautiful sunset in the world. Honestly, this one will stick with you. Classical music is played from the mountains as the sun slowly dips its feet into the ocean and the beach packs with sun worshipers and night revelers alike.

• If you want to move your party to a boat, check out Pukka Up Boat Party boat parties which are the best on the West End and come with an entry ticket to a club (because in Ibiza everything does).  

• This is an island where there is always a party happening. During the day check out the endless pool parties and beach clubs with favorites being: Santos Ibiza, Bora Bora Ibiza, Blue Marlin Ibiza . You have to come back with a tan from your holiday!

Ibiza Town on the southern shore is home to the port of Eivissa in Ibiza Town will host the grandest yachts from across the world filled with celebrities or royalty that come to party at Pacha Ibiza located in Ibiza Town or any of the massive clubs found in the island’s interior which can’t be missed.

The best way to get around is to take the Disco Bus from  San Antonio or Ibiza Town or between clubs (if you are having one of those nights!) It is 3 euros each way and runs through the night. It is busy, rowdy, and you will think you are already inside so prepare yourself. 

Club tickets for Privilege, Space Ibiza, and Amnesia Ibiza float around 60 euros so if your budget is tight, walk down the strip earlier in the day to score free wristbands for early entry or drink deals. There’s no better way to party at Privilege Ibiza, the biggest club in the world, than with a free entry. It is worth it to make it to these clubs - if you can remember all of this madness. My first summer to Ibiza, Tiesto was the house DJ and played tracks from a floating DJ booth in the club’s indoor pool with 10,000 guests dancing with me. And you just don’t do get to say that twice.