Oi! Where’s the Chippy?
Lad (me) on tour
Introducing a giant ramble
This blog post is going to either entertain, inspire, or exhaust. Grab a cup of whatever and settle in friends.
So why is this going to be insane? For one, I’ve gone a bit insane. Writing this after being in ISOLATION in London. Yup you heard that right. Do I have Covid? Nope, not at all! Am I vaccinated? Yup! Two jabs of the Pfizer juice. Have I been getting negative tests? Every. Single. Day (sometimes, TWICE!). Did I follow all UK guidelines and qualify as isolation-exempt? YES.
So Carine!?, you may ask. “Why are you isolating???” Weeellllllll the National Health Service in the UK says that if you are exposed to Covid (someone in the airport? They don’t tell you who), you have to isolate UNLESS you’ve been fully vaccinated…IN THE UK.
I’ve snagged a British tea bag just to ceremoniously throw it in Boston harbor when I get back home. That’ll show em!!
Anyways. Outside of my isolation window, I was having some ups and downs, but overall an absolute adventure. Insane part 2…
Ok, so first, how/why did I get to London?
After the Camino I went back to “home base” in Madrid to see my cousins and confirm that yes, I was indeed alive and had traversed the country successfully. It was so so nice to have a couple of days of ~R and R~ with my aunt and cousins after what had been a lengthy adventure. The hardest part was leaving my Camino friends. We went through it all together and I was missing what had become a family.
Lucky for me, many of them had to come through Madrid to get home! That meant exploring yet another Spanish city with them.
The four Italian girls…by the end of the Camino everyone just assumed I was Italian.
Machine showing off some Camino merch in Madrid. Saying bye to this guy was heart-wrenching. And who would have thought, after weeks of complaining that I couldn’t make any friends in Poland, that one month later, my best friend on the Camino would be Polish.
Though we had to say another tearful goodbye, I’ll be seeing my Italian buddies when I go to Rome in the Spring. And though I have no plans to return to Poland, I’m sure I can harangue Machine into coming to visit all of us for a weekend (Machine I know you’re reading this…and I know you’re going to send me a WhatsApp message with many useful corrections, so I’m waiting buddy).
After a few days, my Schengen visa exemption was coming to an end (Americans get 90 days), so I too had to scram from Spain and find refuge in a non-Schengen-area country. Not trying to get deported!
Lucky for me, the UK+Ireland is outside of Schengen…
Funny how things work out
To start, it’s important to know that London is my favorite city in the world. It’s extremely diverse, great cuisine from all over the world, the nightlife is really fun, and I just love all things British, always have. (And Harry Potter…which I’ve read at least 8 times, and yeah, I wish that was hyperbole). Every time I visit, I walk around Hyde Park, visit Buckingham Palace, go to Harrods, and check out all the other cheesy tourist sights. It’s magical to me.
So obviously I planned to stop in London for a couple days before my trip up to Scotland for the month. Fate laughed at the “couple days” bit…but whateverrrr.
Usually, I would have stayed in a youth hostel and wandered around, but the Camino magic continues. Jack (from Ireland) was here visiting family and Dorothy, who lives in London, leant me an empty apartment. Seriously, people’s generosity still blows me away. Wherever I have travelled, I’ve made friends that have given so so much for no apparent reason. It astonishes me. As a friend (who shall remain unnamed thanks to my benevolence) exclaimed, “you’re not that charming..how’d you score that?” Yeah, honestly, does not compute.
A little side note on Dorothy. I met her during the first couple days of the Camino and helped with a bit of translation as we sorted reservations and baggage issues. She was beloved by everyone in our “cohort” of pilgrims…super outgoing, generous, and bubbly. I really look up to Dorothy. She’s travelled the world, tackling any adventure that intrigues her. Though we moved at different paces, when I got back to Santiago after reaching Finisterre (the ocean), I was back in Santiago to see her after her arrival. We got drinks to celebrate our pilgrimage and I simply mentioned going to London and *boom* I had a place to stay.
Dorothy summary: She is a badass and literally my savior because I had a place to stay for the ten freaking days of isolation.
So back to London. It was a lots of ups and downs, but mostly ups…and some great stories.
Remember a couple blogs back when I mentioned loving the Great British Bakeoff? How it was the only thing to help me survive in a dirty field in the middle of Spain?
Well I met someone from the show. Yes, you heard that right. And he was one of my favorite contestants, too.
There are two versions of this story and unfortunately I have to tell you the one that is acceptable for my parents to read:
We met in full daylight at a pleasant, open-air cafe, sipping herbal tea while reciting our daily affirmations.
Forget it…we met in a bar in London on my first big night out for really the entire fellowship. Since I was finally in a city with friends, I could ~enjoy the nightlife~ without fearing theft, kidnapping, death, etc… (my mom can give you the cautionary list she rattles off to me every day).
So there I was, dancing the night away and enduring the millionth “Hey! Are you American!?” (not lots of Americans in the UK at the moment so my accent always came as a shock).
All of a sudden, while I was taking a breather from what I would like to think was above-average-but-still-not-impressive dancing, I did a double-take…I know that guy!!!
Ok so maybe my fellowship has made me a little too outgoing because…
“ARE YOU X FROM THE GREAT BRITISH BAKE-OFF!? I LOOOOOOOOOVE THAT SHOW?” (Ugh yup I was that fan).
“Yes! Hi!”
“WOW.” (*Me doing everything in my power not to ask him about his grandmother’s cake recipe from episode 5 that he likes to bake for his two nephews or on late study nights at university!!!* … oh goodness, Carine)
“Hey! Are you American!?”
We got to chatting and I told him about my fellowship and as so often happens when you meet lovely people as a lonely traveler, he invited me for a meal.
YES, a meal with a Bakeoff contestant. That’s like…hm….that’s like playing catch with Tom Brady! (You can always count on me to be dramatic).
So we did end up getting dinner! I was a bit nervous to meet a ~celebrity~ but five minutes into it, it just felt like a normal dinner with a friend, not “X from Bakeoff.”
So that’s the story of my very random date with a Great British Bakeoff contestant. Something to tell the grandkids about, amirite.
(Ok I was going to try to be cool and not say this buuutttt we also got DESSERT and I made him choose as “the expert”…ok enough of that).
So I didn’t just go on a crazy date and lose my mind during isolation (you can only watch so many episode of Love Island without starting to talk to yourself in an Essex accent and inexplicably develop a fake tan) … there were lots of other fun London adventures.
Like I said, I got to meet up with Jack, my friend from the Camino!
Good craic activated!
We visited Dorothy together and he was nice enough to introduce me to his Irish friends in London. Going out to the pub with them was a blast and it’s always great to make friends in new places. (Side note: not that I was every an introvert or a shy person, but I wasn’t the most outgoing person either. This fellowship has forced every last ounce of extrovert out of me. When you’re traveling alone, you have to put yourself out there (safely, of course) in order to meet new people in new places. It’s been a really great experience for me and I’ve gotten to meet really amazing folks, like these friends in London. I now feel capable of going anywhere and making meaningful connections).
While in London, I also got to visit a community of Jesuit priests for dinner one night. I was connected with Luke, who is on the road to becoming fully ordained, because he once worked as a resident tutor at Harvard. He was nice enough to invite me for a visit to the beautiful Jesuit residence in south London.
Ok, starting with the food because that’s my favorite thing to write about. When you’re all alone you tend to eat, well, crap. (I ate a bag of microwave popcorn for dinner two nights ago). So I was DELIGHTED to have a home cooked meal. Luke cooked an incredible spaghetti carbonara from scratch.
Jesuits, in my experience, are rather academic so it would be an understatement to say that I was engaged in the conversation the entire night. I also had a blast recounting my own stories, realizing that it was the first time in quite a while that I got to sit and discuss at a dinner table with others.
A wee visit to Scotland
So if you’re wondering, I finally got out of London. (Two weeks late…grrrr).
Quick minute of vulnerability *cringe*: The loneliness of traveling had come back since the Camino, where I was with people at all times. Solo traveling certainly has its pros: freedom, flexibility, simplicity. But the con is always the same: I wish I was sharing these cool moments with others.
Just as the loneliness was reaching its peak, I made it to Glasgow where I stayed with an incredible family, the K’s.
The K’s always use the word “providential” to describe fortunate events, encounters, and opportunities. It’s a word steeped in gratitude and humility; you are essentially seeing God as the source of your good fortune.
“Providential” is certainly the word for my stay with them.
It’s funny because neither I nor my family actually knew the K’s. My friend Victoria (who did a similar fellowship), told them about my travels and they immediately offered me a place to stay. Episode 10 in season 5 of: People are so Damn Generous for No Apparent Reason.
When I got to Glasgow (setting the scene: it’s pouring rain and I’m feeling quite glum), I was welcomed by Mrs. K’s smiling face she waited for me at the subway stop. And who greeted me next? Buzz and Woody, two JACK RUSSEL TERRIERS. I LOVE dogs and I miss my Jack Russel, Rocky, probably more than anyone and anything (shamelessly, as you can see). So it certainly felt “providential” when I was lovingly accosted by the two little cuties.
If this doesn’t melt your heart, you have no hope and I simply don’t like you.
Mrs. and Mr. K were incredible hosts, not only giving me a happy home to stay in, but cheerfully helping me with my travel logistics throughout Scotland.
Most of all, I enjoyed spending time with their kids, all around my age. The minute I walked into their home, Lily and Hugh invited me to a gig in town. I ended up meeting them at an old-church-turned-bar (it was sick) to listen to a singer called Barrie-James (not to be that person, but you should have a listen).
Aesthetically, I really enjoyed the grungier Glasgow scene. It was authentic. I can’t quite put it into words but to give you an idea: lots of piercings, Doc Martens, and good music. And the people are incredibly nice. At the concert, for instance, anyone you walked by would say hi and strike up a conversation. People love to talk over a pint.
I’ve always heard that Glasgow is a tough city and not the best place to visit but I found it to be fascinating. Plus, everyone I met was super friendly and welcoming. It’s also fairly beautiful. There are impressive buildings, charming pubs, great cafes, and nice parks/cemeteries (fun fact, I love old cemeteries). It has an old charm that mixes with the modern grunginess to produce a dynamic, eclectic energy.
Me trying to fit in with Glasgow’s grunge-meets-coffee-shop vibe…the face of an imposter
So yeah, as the Scottish so eloquently say, “get your head out of your arse” and visit Glasgow!
Some b-day blues
I turned 23 the other day! And to be honest I woke up with some birthday blues, mostly from missing family and friends…and feeling kinda old. Yeah, I know I’m only 23 (I can feel the glares from everyone over 23) but I’m finally a “real adult” in the “real world” (aka out of college) so this one felt different. Ah, the existential crises of a 20-something-year-old.
My mild melancholy changed as soon as I went downstairs to go on a run. Mrs. K was smiling in the kitchen with a gift for me. I had only mentioned in passing that it would be birthday but she had remembered. I was extremely touched by the gesture. Beating a dead horse at this point buuuuut: GENEROSITY!!
I ended up going to Edinburgh with Lily for the day and having a fantastic time sight-seeing and going to my favorite spots. I visited Edinburgh a few years back and have always thought of it as the most beautiful city in Europe. This place is actually magical. The way the light touches everything, the constant bagpipe music, the old buildings…there’s something in the air.
One of my favorite sights in Edinburgh is Victoria Street, the place that inspired Diagon Alley in Harry Potter. (Did I tear up? Maybe…).
Yup I’m one of those nerds. So I’ll leave you with this recap of my birthday…
Started feeling like this:
Ended feeling like this:
I went to bed that night feeling very grateful. Grateful for this adventure, grateful for the K’s, and yes, grateful to be 23.
What does it all mean!?
This blog was a giant ramble mostly because my life for the past month has been a giant ramble. So many unknowns were thrown my way: what to do about isolation, what to do about my visa exemption, where to go after the Camino, who to spend time with, how to get from point A to point B. It’s been both exciting and exhausting. I’m ready to take a break and thoroughly plan my next steps…and I actually had tickets to go home for Thanksgiving so the timing feels “providential.”
But there is a common theme throughout this post and, honestly, all of my posts before: generosity. It’s clear enough how the generosity of others has helped me throughout my journey. But I also want to stress how happy they look when they’re generous. It was something I saw among the nuns that hosted me over the summer: working for a “greater good” gives you an enduring happiness and sense of purpose.
Shocker…being nice to people will make you happy!
ArEn’T YoU SCaReD?
Oh and one more thing.
Since I’ve been moving around quite a bit this month, I’ve been getting the same question everywhere I go: aren’t you scared? Every. single. person. asks me this question.
And I get it…honestly four months ago I was scared shitless. Can I really do this? And as a woman, all alone?
But I’m happy to report that my answer has changed from “yeah, duh, I’m scared you idiot,” to “I was scared.”
So what changed, oh sage one? At the almost-four-month-mark, I’ve learned a little thing or two about the world *clears throat, pushes glasses up nose.*
One, I’ve met really special people that have renewed my hope in the world.
If you are generally cautious about the people you spend time with (especially if you’re a woman), you’ll probably end up naturally gravitating towards people that are genuine and good.
There are more good people in the world than bad people, and that’s something I’m now sure of. It’s a theme that comes through in all my posts (I hope).
Two, I’ve learned that “what if” doesn’t only have to be negative.
Let me explain. I’ve always avoided big solo-adventures because of the “what if’s”: what if it’s not safe, what if there are creeps, what if…. It’s easy to fall into this cycle: you think up a cool adventure, you decide it’s something you’d like to do, but then you think of all the things that can go wrong. Take the Camino, for example. I was super excited about the idea of walking across Spain and doing a religious pilgrimage for over a month. But I started thinking about what could go wrong: I could be walking alone for long stretched, I could meet creepy people, I could feel lonely, etc…
This is a common phenomenon in our society, especially for women: ultra risk-aversion. We’re told absolute worse case scenarios and use those as our metric for risk assessment. It’s absolutely bonkers for any sensible human to make a decision based on the worst outcome. In reality, you have to ~optimize your risk~ (thanks, minor in economics) to have ~good returns~.
There’s always going to be some risk. Yeah, some of my “what ifs” did occur: sometimes I was alone, sometimes I met weird people. But I took steps to keep myself safe and I surrounded myself with a support system. More importantly, good things happened I didn’t necessarily anticipate. There are plenty of positive “what if’s” that we never even consider: what if I meet lifelong friends, what if I push my limits and grow, what if I complete one of the most incredible journeys of my life?
So, going forward, I’m going to try to think of the positive “what if’s” as well. I’ll still consider the negatives; it’s always important to assess risk, especially as a woman alone. But I will never again stop myself because of a few scary thoughts.
This isn’t just a lesson in traveling. It’s definitely a lesson I hope to apply to my life in general. I mean I was scared to do this fellowship because of all the “bad things” that could happen to my career: I’ll be a year behind my peers, I won’t start earning money, blah blah blah.
Yeah, those are certainly risks, negative “what if’s.” But there are also rewards: I know myself better, I have a deeper faith life, I have had time to think about my priorities and my aspirations. Overall, I feel more ready to be a “functioning adult” (whatever the hell that means…but I feel more ready, if that makes any sense). Aaaaand I’m having a ton of fun.
P.S. I Have no P.S. but here are some funny Scottish phrases/words
I can’t understand a damn word in this country (Scotland). I’m telling you, it’s hopeless.
As a Shrek enthusiast, I thought I would have been ready for the accent. Well I thought wrong, mostly because Scottish people say more than: “that’ll do Donkey, that’ll do.”
My exact expression when Scottish people speak to me in my own language and I have no freaking clue what they’re saying ^
Being the astute traveling anthropologist/linguist that I am, I have gone to the trouble of compiling only the most pertinent, crucial aspects of the Scottish dialect for you all:
So for one, Scottish people roll their r’s. As a Spanish-speaker, this came as a comfort (though still doesn’t help much). Hearing my name in Scottish is perhaps my favorite mispronunciation yet: “Cuh-rrreen.”
Here’s another neat one. Scottish people use “wee” in front of everything, especially when it’s redundant. For instance, in a hostel my host was looking for my keys. She goes: “give me a wee two seconds to find them.” Ok lady, but two seconds is already a “wee” amount of time. But I guess if we’re talking about brevity, I have no leg to stand on…
Another favorite: “scran.” It means food! After the concert I went to in Glasgow, I got to witness the exodus that occurs when pubs close down. Basically I go to hear a bunch of drunk Scottish people shout “I need a scran, where’s the nearest chippy!?” (Bonus: a “chippy” is a late-night fish and chips restaurant…the more you know).
And of course, “dunneh/dunna.” Translation: I do not. “I dunneh understand a damn thing you’re saying lad!” Really, I do not understand a damn thing.
Last, but not least, my favorite phrase of all: “I can’t be arsed.” Translation: I can’t be bothered with this inconvenience, big or small. I say this allll the time now. It’s raining? “I can’t be arsed with going outside?” You, when you see how long my blog post is:
“I can’t be arsed.”
Be safe🙏❤