adventure – Page 10 – Darkk Horse Travel

5 Myths About Traveling Alone

Published on October 5, 2015 by Emilee2 Comments

As I’m starting to plan out my next adventure with two of my friends, I’ve been being reminded of how different it is to plan out things with a group vs. being a solo traveller. One of the biggest changes I’ve noticed is the reaction people have when I tell them that I’m flying overseas…with my friends.
The moment I say I’m traveling with two other girls there are smiles, story swapping and all kinds of laughter and fun. Since I’m human and therefore not exactly anti-acceptance I’ve gone along with it for a while, but being the solo traveller that I naturally am, it has started to bother me. Why is it so much more societally acceptable for a woman to travel with a couple of friends than for her to travel by herself? Do we still, subconsciously, live within a world where a woman needs to be “chaperoned” in order to safely traverse the world around her?

Of course you should all know my feelings on the matter. But as an added bonus, I thought I would debunk some myths that people told me about traveling as a woman, based off of my personal experience.

1. You won’t have any friends to talk or share memories with: I’m am a pretty hard core introvert. I’m not the most outgoing person in general, but something kicks into gear when I travel. There’s something beautiful about having thousands of people around you who you don’t know, and may never see. For me, it’s so freeing, and it’s one of my favorite things to make friends with the people I meet along the way. Whether it’s meeting people in hostels, people I’m staying with or just people I meet on the road – I have some of the coolest stories based just off of the people I’ve met and adventured with. Would I have been as outgoing if I was traveling with other people? Honesty? I don’t think so.

2. You’ll get lost and never be able to find your way back. When I travel, I don’t have an iPhone that works outside of Wifi, I don’t have any special GPS or anything magical that makes me able to travel flawlessly. Sometimes I get lost, and sometimes I get to make new friends just by asking for directions. Those are some of the beautiful aspects of travel, though! And you would be surprised how much you learn about map reading when it’s your only way of getting around! I know – sounds like something our parents did, but traveling without any kind of help has always worked beautifully for me (no horror stories to tell). If you’re really bothered, you can always pay a small amount of money for a personal GPS, as well.

3. It’s dangerous. Here’s some news – life is dangerous. And if you live cowering in a corner, you’ll never experience some of the most beautiful moments. I live by a mantra: Don’t be scared, be prepared. Research, research, research! Know about the country and culture – know about the people and the places you’re going to. The safest I’ve ever felt is having plans (even if I throw them out in the end). This is also a great opportunity to make friends when you travel! Having people know you, is a great way to make sure you have a contact if something does happen.

4. You won’t get as much out of the experience: Like I said, I’ve been on some pretty epic adventures in my time. I’ve never regretted traveling alone, and while I would never discourage traveling with friends, I would definitely say don’t wait to travel just because you can’t find people to go with. I waited two years for people to go with me on a backpacking trip and I regret that SO MUCH – as soon as I actually bought my ticket and went on my trip it was amazing to see how many of my friends started getting interested in traveling more. Be a leader! Take a step forward and embrace the adventures that are waiting for you!

5. Something will go wrong/you’ll die: It always amazes me how many people told me of how my travel adventures would result in my untimely death. Obviously, I’m not dead yet. And the thing about this myth is that life is never guaranteed to us, no matter how carefully we live it. If I die while traveling, I will die doing something I love with every ounce of my being (not a bad way to go). And statistically speaking, travel adventures are a lot less likely to land you in the morgue than the general public seems to believe. While I do, of course support being informed, careful and vigilant when traveling, I also encourage not allowing the unfounded fear of others (especially if they aren’t speaking from any personal experience) to dictate how you live your life.

6 People You’ll Meet While Traveling In Europe

Published on September 8, 2015September 8, 2015 by Emilee3 Comments

While traveling in Europe over the past few years I’ve met a LOT of people. The streets are always filled with travelers eager to get a taste of the art, history and overall experience that Europe has to offer; and as a solo traveler, I am always more than happy to share my journey with them. Toward the end of my last trip I started to take note of the trends in who I was sharing planes, trains and airplanes with and I thought I would share a few with you lovelies. So here they are – have you seen them? Leave a message with who I missed!

1. The Recent Grad: These lovelies are the class of 20__ and are loud and proud about it. Whether hailing from the “great” U.S.A!, Canada, Australia or some other English speaking country, you’ll probably be able to pick these travelers out of a crowd by their looks of beautiful naivety and their constant need to tell everyone that they’ve recently graduated from college. Little do their beautiful soft minds know, we don’t care so much what you’ve learned from a book, but how you’ve applied it so far. Getting out of your comfort zone is a great starting point, but sometimes I want to tell them to not let that one three month European trip be the last time they push themselves beyond it.

2. The Family: Strollers in tow, these parents aren’t quite ready to settle down behind their white picket fences (at least, not all the time) and are out and about with their growing family. And don’t get them wrong, these families will be climbing mountains with sleeping babies strapped to their chest. I love seeing these families because I think it’s so important to introduce children to travel early on. My love of travel is because from a very young ageI was packed up and traveling all around the US – the fearlessness of travel is a learned attribute and I love seeing these kids learning it at such a young age.

3. The Band Of Brothers: There’s something beautifully bonding about the group of guys that travels the world together. Or at least that’s what they’ve all told me. But it’s not only the dudes who are bro-ing out. Shout out to the ladies who also have some tight knit pacts binding them together over countries and continents. Whether it’s a post graduation exploration, or just because their parents didn’t want them to be murdered when traveling alone (because that’s what happens to all us solo travelers – duh.) these groups can be fun to watch – and that’s pretty much all you’ll probably have the opportunity to do. Groups generally aren’t as inclusive as couples or singles (or even families) who travel. In much of the same way there are pros and cons to traveling alone, it’s a blessing and a curse to already have your friends with you when seeing the world.

4. The Boho Hipster: Yeah, yeah. We know. You are above living under the thumb of “the man” so you’ve decided to spend a “season” wandering the earth seeking enlightenment. Believe me, if you’ve met this person you will know it – mainly because they will be constantly reminding you of their alternative lifestyle. And you know what? That’s okay. Props to them – I don’t know how anyone travels with that many additional restrictions to their lifestyles. That’s right, I’m talking to you vegan, glamper who lives off Nietzsche, vintage wines and posts Instagram selfies of your daily lens flare/travel quote/#nofilter #travelpics #blessed.

5. The Nomad: A bit different from the Bohemian (mainly monetary differences, if we’re honest) this person actually doesn’t have anywhere else to go, and therefore approaches the world as their back yard, ready to be perused and explored. Hobbies may include, but are not limited to: epic story telling, guitar playing, resourceful repurposing, dread lock growing, Volkswagen driving, smoking certain plants that may or may not be legal and hanging out with the locals around dinner tables, fire pits and hostel front doors with long talks and smokes at 2am.

6. The Couple: Yes they’re in love. Yes you’re going to know it at every. single. moment. you’re with them. Whether they’re newly-weds, the couple who just never got their honeymoon or the empty nesters/retirees who are ready to take on the world, Europe called and they answered. While some of these couples may seem like an awkward alliance, don’t pass them by so quickly – some of my favorite introductions I’ve ever had were with older couples who had life advice, travel advice and were just solidly awesome. I love seeing the same enthusiasm I have as a single twenty something reflected in the eyes of couples who have been married for forty years. Wanderlust knows no age.

Bathtub Gin & Co.

Published on September 5, 2015September 5, 2015 by EmileeLeave a comment

slide_03 — 2205 2ND AVENUE SEATTLE, WA 98121

If you know me, you’ll know that I love going to a speakeasy more than anything. Last night I got to go to a new one situated right in between downtown Seattle and Belltown, and it was so lovely I thought I would share. If you’re looking for a dim-lit laid back atmosphere for after work Friday wind-down I would definitely suggest grabbing drinks at this little spot (and I DO mean little – maximum occupancy is 39 people). Situated in a rustic vintage building with decor to match, the creative drink concoctions and beautiful interior really make it a must visit spot.

Ordered: Alice, Wonderland (of course) – A gin mint mixture beautifully topped with flowers

Where:2205 2nd Ave, Seattle, Washington 98121

Went: Friday, September 4th at 5:30m (it filled up pretty quick after we got there)

Wifi: No

Reservation Needed: No, but get there early for the best spots – expect to walk down an alley to find this spot.

Life of Pi

Published on August 29, 2015August 29, 2015 by EmileeLeave a comment

“Why do people move? What makes them uproot and leave everything they’ve known for a great unknown beyond the horizon? Why climb this Mount Everest of formalities that make you feel like a beggar? Why enter into this jungle of foreigness where everything is new, strange and difficult?

The answer is the same the world over: people move in the hope of a better life.”

Why Netflix And I Are Never Ever Getting Back Together

Published on June 28, 2015June 28, 2015 by Emilee9 Comments

Can I just say: I love being back in the U.S. Will I always live here? Probably not. But at the moment I am having a pretty splendiferous time of it. Coming back to Seattle was not an easy decision. There were a handful of people who thought I should stay in Paris, and others who thought I was crazy for choosing to move back from Europe at all.

But in the true middle finger to the world approach I adopted from my time in France, I could care less what their opinions are.

Because, when it comes down to it, this is my life. My decisions. And I’m the only one calling the shots on which direction I go. I would definitely encourage those who feel like Paris is the Mecca for happiness to move there themselves. (It was not, and never could possibly be, for me.)

ANYWAY…Being back in the good ‘ole US of A has been so much more of an adjustment than I ever thought it would be. It’s funny, but you don’t really even realize how many things you get used to when you’re living in another country. Like bananas.

French bananas DO NOT taste the same as the ones we get here (or fruit in general). And at first that really bothered me. But over the course of 10 months I guess I got used to it, and I wasn’t even aware of the fact…until I got back to the now watery tasting ones in Seattle.

Beyond the fruit revelations, I’ve also experienced so many levels of culture shock from being back. And as weird as it sounds, one of the hardest things I’ve encountered is keeping up with English/English speakers!

While obviously I haven’t forgotten how to speak English, I do have quite a bit of difficulty (still, after 3 weeks!) of finding the correct words for sentences, or speaking conversationally. There are a couple of reasons that I think are to blame for this. On the one hand, I obviously didn’t speak English in France, unless I was with one of my friends or the family I lived with. But on the other hand, I just didn’t really speak that much in general! Now looking back on the past year, I’m realizing just how incredibly silent I became. It feels so odd to be able to express myself without checking my vocabulary for the simplest form of a word and I keep having these moments when I think “Wow! I can read/respond without thinking to that!”

Is forgetting you’re fluent in a language standard after living in a country where it isn’t primarily spoken? Maybe it’s just me.

While I was living in France, I also didn’t have a phone for pretty much the entirety of my time there, so having the ability to call/text/use my smartphone outside of a Wifi zone is the oddest feeling. To be absolutely honest, I still kind of get freaked out when I get a text or phone call.

And despite the general joy of being back in my hometown, there are some things that will NOT be being reintroduced into my life, one of which will be Netflix/Hulu. Both of these sites were absolute addictions prior to my moving…and I guess that makes sense – I love movies, and I always have. BUT the mindlessness and the numbing effect that comes as a package deal is not okay.

In fact, that is one of the biggest things I’m observing and trying to keep from slipping into while in the U.S. Numb distractions.

I never noticed before how much over stimulation there is in the United States. Let’s all take a step back for a second and observe a few: There are more TV shows than we could ever hope to watch (but you’re expected to keep up with all of them), there are more activities than you’ll ever have time to do (how do you not run, do yoga, rock climb and go on a 10 mile hike EVERY DAY!?), more food options than you could possibly choose from, and more technological (sorry, mom) shit than you could ever possibly need. For instance, my iPhone 4s is like six generations behind, and I’ve only been gone for a year!?

Clarification: it still works fine. It still calls, texts, connects to Wifi and my data plan and takes decent photos, and yet…since I’ve been here all I’ve heard about is the latest smartphones and people calling generations that came out two months ago ‘ancient.’

The craziest part is that in spite of all of these 5 million things to keep us occupied, every person I’ve talked to since I’ve been here hates their job, and is constantly trying to escape through said distractions. And don’t even get me started on how messed up the whole, by age 22 most of us are in more debt than we’ll be able to pay off for 20 years, thing.

Okay, I’ll stop ranting. Like I said, there are so many amazing things I love about the United States, also. But one of the biggest things I’ve had to start doing since being here is simply saying no. NO NO NO NO NO. I don’t want to engage in this frothing at the mouth competition to impress people I don’t like in order to create a life where I’m constantly plugging in to something to forget I hate it. NO!

Because if there’s one thing I DID learn about living in Europe, it’s that my true friends love me when I have absolutely nothing to give, nothing to share, no way to repay and nothing to contribute. I am loved as I am. I don’t need to impress anyone, and I don’t need to be running around trying to keep up with whatever the next trend to hit the streets is.

Because when it comes down to it, these are distractions from what I really want to do with my life. These are things that kept me, for many years, from really pursuing things I was passionate about. They are pop up signs, advertisements and shiny gadgets that will not make me happy. And while each, in itself, is not necessarily harmful, the amassed collection is turning us into a nation of ravenous hoarders (of wealth, of technology, of perfectly filtered Instagram photos), blind to how blessed we already are.

Dublin, Ireland

Published on May 4, 2015May 4, 2015 by Emilee7 Comments

For the past two weeks I have been having entirely too much fun in Dublin. I would say I’m sorry for not posting amidst my time of bliss, but the truth is – I’m not. This year has been such a difficult one, and has pushed me past every limit I ever thought I could be pushed past. But, in the true manner that life seems to work in, the best was saved for last.

Originally my travel plans included Germany, Dublin, Copenhagen and Oslo…but when I got to Dublin I realized something that I’ve never experienced before in my life – complete and entire contentment with where I was.

I’m not one to cancel itineraries. I generally stick to the plan – no matter what. But there was just something deep down that told me not to leave Dublin. So I didn’t. And that was, perhaps, one of the best decisions of my life.

The grand total was 10 days.

I really wish I could give a play back moment by moment of how amazing every one of those days was, but I’m afraid I barely remember, myself.
I will tell you this: I lived. Wholly, completely and without inhibition.

I got a new tattoo, I went on bus tours and walking tours and visited museums and jails and mountains and oceans. I read books, tried my first, and not last, Guinness. I learned how to throw darts, saw some new movies and old TV shows. I learned to cook chef cuisine in a hostel, made friends with people from all over the world. I learned some new and some old songs, visited too many pubs to count. I visited cities all over Ireland, saw castles and cliffs and realized the splendor of simplicity. I slept on the wrong side of the morning, and forgot what it was to have a curfew. I met people there’s not even a chance of me ever forgetting, and laughed more than I have in 9 months combined. I felt loved, accepted, and in a weird way like I was a puzzle piece that had always meant to be there to fill a hole.

In short, I don’t even know how to convey how much I enjoyed the last couple of weeks. I should probably just stop trying – so, instead I leave you with some of my favorite pictures from the trip:

Rome, Italy: Day 2

Published on April 11, 2015April 11, 2015 by Emilee1 Comment

Day two of Italy was such a beautiful whirlwind. I started out with breakfast (REAL DOUGHNUT) at the hostel and then headed out to find the metro. I was so happy to figure out that in Rome the metro consists of two lines, and each goes in two directions. That’s really all there is. Hallelujah. There was a direct route from where I was staying, so I hopped on the metro and headed to my first location: The Vatican.

While I was riding the metro I was reminded of how terrified I was of the tube when I made my first ever backpacking trip. I wouldn’t take it. I took buses around London for an entire week. And if you’ve ever been to London, you’ll know how incredibly insane that is. But here I was, sitting on the metro in Rome, Italy thinking, “Well this is easy.” Paris has changed me in a lot of ways. I had to smile when I thought about how “young” I seemed on my first trip, even though it was only a couple years ago. So much can change in two years.

The Vatican was as crazy as you can imagine. Going on Easter weekend was an absolute dream in most regards, to be honest. There were so many more benefits than negatives. But when it came to The Vatican, there was the single negative; it seemed like the entirety of Italy (and maybe everywhere else, too) was there. The line was wrapping around the entire piazza and everyone was buzzing with excitement. It was a pretty amazing experience. EVERYONE was there – from the elderly to tours filled with children. I didn’t wait in the line, because I knew that I had limited time to see the whole city, but I did take some awesome pictures of the surrounding area. So fresh, so clean. I love Roman architecture.

My next stop was the Castel Sant Angelo, which was amazing and absolutely enormous. I kind of wish I had gone in, but there was just so much to see and I was on a time crunch. I loved walking along the “Fiume Tevere”. The water seemed so clear in comparison to The Seine and since the sun was out and shining all day it was the best place to be.

Like I said, I really think I went at the best time that I could have. I had all the street vendors to myself and picked up some amazing “Roman Holiday” (Audrey Hepburn) prints, which I’m definitely going to get framed when I get back to the US. The Piazza Cavour was one of the most beautiful sights you could ever imagine. I’m so used to the (sorry France) gaudy Parisian architecture that it was refreshing to see the clean, but nonetheless ornate and beautiful, architecture of Rome.

My next stop was the Piazza Navona, where I bought some gelato and simply laid in the sun next to a fountain as a jazz band played next to where I was sitting. Sounds perfect, right? It was.
I stopped in on quite a few churches while I was in Rome. I loved how simplistic they looked on the exterior, but how ornate they were on the inside. I spent a lot of time just sitting and mediating in one of the smaller chapels next to the Piazza. Such beauty.
At this point I decided that I needed to see at least one actual museum so I jumped in the one that was nearest to me. Of course (because I can never escape France) it was the Napoleon museum, which was actually amazing and beautiful and I loved it. When I walked in, though, I walked straight up to the huge Napoleon painting and said “Well, I didn’t expect to see you here.” I’m pretty sure the security guards thought I was insane. Oh, well.

My next stop was the Pantheon, which was an absolute madhouse (in all the best ways). There were just SO MANY PEOPLE THERE. I loved being able to walk around amidst the beehive of people inside, though. The ceiling was one of those moments that seems like a cut from a movie montage. You just stand there and turn around and around. How did people build this so long ago? How is it still here? Why do I get to come here?

After the Pantheon I picked up some postcards and walked up along the Tiber River. I headed up to Piazza del Popolo where there was the coolest obelisk. That was another favorite thing about Rome, since I’ve always been in love with ancient Egypt (I dressed up as Cleopatra probably 5 Halloweens in my childhood). I loved being able to see these massive obelisks engraved with hieroglyphics. I mean, come on. At this point I was just thinking – what even is this life that I’m living?

NOTE: This whole trip I had to keep pinching myself. How was it real that I was there? How was I there? How was it real?

After the Piazza I made my way along the Via del Corso, which is pretty much just a huge extension of shop after shop after shop. I did buy a wallet, because I figured that going to Italy and not buying something made out of Italian leather would have been a crime.
Another thing I really enjoyed about Rome was that, even though it’s such a massive city, there are still live street musicians and artists. There were some absolutely incredible chalk artists on the streets there, and I could not believe how well they were replicating famous works of art.

The next stop on my adventure were the Spanish stairs – and I really don’t have much to say about them because my little introvert self saw that many people sitting in that one place, and ran for the hills.

Or rather, Trevi Fountain, which was under construction (the saddest thing ever) but was still lovely. Hopefully someday, when I go back, I’ll be able to see it with actual water in it. Wouldn’t that be nice?

The Quirinale was my next stop, and I arrived just in time to see the Italian version of the changing of the guards. The whole ceremony was pretty awesome, but I don’t think it’s publicized because there weren’t a whole ton of people there. Those of us who were there, though, loved every moment.

Phew. I’m getting tired just writing all of this out (and you’re probably getting tired of reading it) but just image that this was 12 hours straight of walking. Fun times.

On my way back to my hostel I found an old church (like all the churches in Rome are old, so I don’t know why I needed to add that), and wrote out the postcards I needed to send out – all while being surrounded by gold and renaissance style paintings. Think angels with outstretched fingers. That.

Piazza Republica was my next stop on my way back to my hostel, where I dropped off my postcards, and went back to the hostel to collapse. Unfortunately, it was then that I realized I had forgotten to get Spaghetti (I had checked off Panini and gelato already during the day) somewhere, so I dragged myself back out of bed and across the street for a plate. I will say this about that meal: I don’t think I’ll ever be able to enjoy bread anywhere, ever again, now that I’ve lived in France.

Normandy: Part 1

Published on March 21, 2015March 21, 2015 by Emilee1 Comment

This morning I woke up at 4am…and it was almost intentional.
5am was the actual intended time to rise and shine, but my body, filled with subconscious adrenaline, decided to get up an hour early.

Luckily, the reason for waking up that early was more than worth it. See, this weekend is girls weekend (away from kids!!) nd this morning we jumped on a train to a bus to another train, landing us in Bayeux, France (Normandy!).

Why Normandy, you may ask? Well, I can’t actually remember what inspired the decision, but one of my Paris comrades had the weekend off and so we decided to go visit the coast and learn a little bit more about a different part of our current home country.

Such a good decision. Although we started out our day with an all too early train ride, and ticket machines that just would not spit out our train tickets, we eventually climbed aboard the train and headed west, to the coast.

After a five hour journey we landed in Bayeux, a small but chic little town that has a vibe as different from Paris as you possibly can get. Our first stop was our Airbnb reserved house (or rather a room in the house) and our hosts were lovely enough to give us a lift from the train station! Although Couchsurfing will always be my first option, I’m really loving my Airbnb experiences so far and would definitely suggest trying it out if you’re looking for a less expensive way to travel within Europe.

Our next stop was a church we could see from the train station. It was HUGE! And once we were inside the cathedral we realized just how much history this city holds, even beyond its famous part in WWII and the historic Dday operations that happens not too far from here (and here in the city!) on the beaches. The artistry in the cathedral was just breathtaking! (I’ll post pictures as soon as I am able!)

When people first heard that I was coming to this city they made a huge point of advising me to go see some kind of tapestry. Which sounded about as exciting to me hearing it, as it probably just did for you to read. Tapestry? I wasn’t too sure. But we decided to give it a go, and marched up the museum steps determined to find out what all the talk was about.

It turns out, you all were right. The tapestry was amazing as predicted and it turns out looking at a tapestry that is 70 meters long is one of the coolest ways you can spend your weekend! Like I said, more pictures to come, but I would definitely suggest the venture (and at the student price on 4 euro, it was hard to beat!).

Afterward we went across the street to an Irish/French pub called Le Conquerant, which boldly had the sign “ENGLISH SPEAKING” painted above the door, and enjoyed probably my best ever plate of fish and chips and some drinks. We were also lucky enough to land there right when an English vs. France rugby game was starting and we stayed to watch the super exciting game on the screen, and the equally exciting fans (both British and French) who were in the pub.

Overall it has been an amazingly fun jam day and now I kind of feel like passing out. Tomorrow morning the plan is to bike to the Normandy war memorials and beaches and then jump back on a train back to Paris. A quick trip, but if it keeps up this way I think we’ll have just the right amount of time for awesome memories!

A Day In Paris: Picasson Museum, Merci Cafe

Published on March 19, 2015April 11, 2015 by EmileeLeave a comment

Life in Paris isn’t all crepes and picturesque walks along the Seine. But sometimes they are, and I think it’s fun to share with all of you darlings what one of the fun outing days of my life looks like! This time the feature was the Picasso Museum along with some other beautiful spots in Paris.

We started off in the 3rd Arrondissement, which is the most “hipster” spot I’ve found in Paris (so far). There are lots of little shops, chic cafes and art shops and galleries. If you’re looking for a more low key artist vibe while in Paris this is the spot to head to.

Our first stop (because rule #1 is never go to a museum hungry) was a sweet little cafe located near the Picasso Museum named Royal Bar. This little cafe was the quintessential Parisian experience. It was filled with art and made me feel like I had been transported back to the Paris of Hemingway. The tea was lovely (although, fair warning – when you order you’re ordering a pot, not a cup, so it’s a bit more expensive) and the man working there gave us some of the best lemon square type deserts I’ve ever had. It was sublime.

After we had had some caffeine and some little desserts we headed over to see Picasso, because if you’re in Paris and don’t see Picasso what are you even doing with your life? It has kind of become ridiculous how many original pieces of classical art I’ve seen since living in Europe. It’s like my history books have jumped off of the pages, and it’s pretty incredible. Picasso hasn’t really been a favorite of mine, in the past, but I’m a strong believer that seeing work by “The Masters” makes an artist more rounded.

The museum was such a beautiful building, I loved being able to see the amazing architecture and I fell in love with the floors. Yes, the floors. There’s something about black and white checkered floors that will get me every time.

After we’d tipped our hats to Picasso, Cezanne and Matisse we headed over to walk along the shops surrounding. We found this absolutely beautiful shop called Papier Tigre. I loved the geometric feel of their designs and the minimalism. If I wasn’t a broke expat I would have bought the whole store.

Our next stop was for some yummy drinks and the best wall decoration any place can have – books! This was actually our second time at this Merci cafe because the first time we went we made the mistake of going on a Saturday. In case you don’t know about Paris, some of the best advice I have for actually getting into places is to not go on Saturdays. Go any other day of the week, but Saturday is the “going out” day (while Sunday is more for staying in with family) in France. My partner in crime ordered a Pear flavored alcohol and I grabbed a banana, apple and kiwi smoothy which was just so good (even though it sounds awkward). It seemed fitting to end our day with a such a lovely cafe. Our day was so lovely and I love finding new spots that make me feel a little less like a stranger in Paris.

Luck Of The Irish

Published on March 17, 2015March 17, 2015 by Emilee3 Comments

I absolutely love Saint Patrick’s Day because it’s a day when I get to celebrate my family’s heritage and one of my favorite places on earth – Ireland! My family traditions are no joke when it comes to Saint Paddy’s Day, right down to the green breakfast and the corned beef dinner. So, it’s been pretty interesting to be in a country where there is the exact opposite of celebration happening in most places.

It has been an absolute impossible task to explain to my au pair family the significance of this day. In fact, my nine year old informed me that since it’s not a French holiday, it isn’t a real holiday at all.

But, after 7 months, I’m used to the realization that the general French population doesn’t accept things that seem normal or even second nature to me. I still celebrate, anyway. And yes that means giving my kids green baths, baking green cookies and listening to Celtic music. The celebration must go on!

And being in an expat state of mind, today, also reminded me of something else I love celebrating: identity. What makes us who we are? As someone who comes from a biracial background my own identity has been quite the journey to come to terms with, mostly because, growing up, I never felt like I was entitled to it.

But through the years, I’ve slowly begun to unravel the tangled ball of self-identity that we all have to face, in one way or another, at some point. We all are faced with the questions of who we are, and who we want to be.

When I first moved to France I had a really hard time adjusting to the craziness of suddenly having absolutely nothing to define me. I no longer had my friends, my job, my apartment, my family…in short I had nothing. I didn’t even have a phone.

Actually, I still don’t have a phone.

I stood in this foreign country knowing 50% of the language, having no idea what was surrounding me, and wondering what I was thinking when I stepped on the plane that brought me there. I was so scared. I cried so much. I wanted to go back home more than anything in the world, not because I was homesick, but because I was felt so hopelessly lost.

Who was I?

Right about this time, I had a friend who sent me a message that just meant so much to me, and I don’t think they probably even know. It reminded me that I had people back home who loved me, people who supported me and who cared about me. And as simple as that seemed at the moment; those words have circulated in my mind for the past 7 months, again and again.

I have people who love me.

If there has been one theme from this year it has been the love and support of the people back home. I’ve said it before, but I just have no idea how I got so lucky. Maybe it was my Irish blood (Just kidding. Every Morehouse knows our Irish blood is cursed with bad luck).

When I moved to France it was because I didn’t feel like I belonged anywhere. I felt like I needed to “do something with my life” in order for me to figure out if it was worth anything. In short, I felt like I needed to prove myself.

And I intended to – prove myself, that is. I fully intended on this year being the best year of my life. Of everything going beautifully and me then having triumphant tales to spread far and wide for all to hear.

Then the first blow came. And the second. And the third, and fourth and fifth and sixteenth.

And all I could think was “Wait!! This isn’t how this was supposed to be!”

And maybe it was, maybe it wasn’t.

I don’t have a crystal ball showing me what direction my life is going in or why things happen. But I do know that when these things happened to me, they pushed me closer to myself than I’ve ever been before. Why? Because when everything else is stripped away, when you have nothing left and you’re just sitting there, you realize what actually matters in the grander scheme of things. And here’s a hint: It’s not a smartphone.

Over the past months I’ve realized just how much my identity is reflected through the hearts of the people who love me, and love well. The people who have laughed, and cried and sent me words of encouragement, even though it was in no way convenient for them to do so. They gain nothing by being the best friends a girl could ask for. But I guess that’s the truest test of love when it comes down to it – selflessness.

Who am I? I have no idea. But I know that each day I feel like I’m getting to know myself a little better. And maybe I’ll never reach that point of really knowing. Maybe I’ll forever be searching out this person who can be defined by a label or a category.

But, for now, I am just me: a writer, artist, geek, class clown, adventurer, leader, fashionista, sporadic, camera obsessed, storyteller traveler who thinks of impossible things and jumps at the chance to take on new experiences. It’s not a perfect identity, and it sometimes feels like I’m being pulled in fifteen different directions, but I am me. I am both a dreamer and a doer, an academic and an artist. I sketch pictures of superheroes and modern fashion trends. I live in the present, but I’m in love with the past. I’m a reader and a writer. I am of Africa and I am of Ireland.

But most of all, I am loved.
More than I ever knew before. More than I ever could have imagined.
And that, is the greatest part of my identity that I ever could have discovered.

(Also, I’m going back to Ireland in a month!! I’m so excited!)