Some of you have expressed concern that I have died.

Fear not, I still live.

I am currently in Seville enjoying my siesta (what would make it better: if I were enjoying my siesta at a sidewalk cafe with a glass of wine and a book but i decided to spend it with you people.). I love Spain. I really do. The culture here is amazing; everyone greets each other, friend and stranger alike, with kisses on both cheeks, everyone is very animated when they talk and the siesta is the best invention ever! The days here can be lazied away sitting in a cafe with a good cappucino or a glass of wine reading a book and the waiter never bothers you to have more.

I just got back from Morocco and i couldn´t enjoy this Spanish culture more. While I loved Morocco and it may be the best part of my trip, I was constantly harrassed, constantly haggled and never had a moments peace unless I had locked myself up in a hotel room.  The culture there is sooo different than anything I have ever experienced. The people I met, I either loved or couldn´t stand. I met some amazing people, some very intelligent and open minded people who brought new light to a culture i knew very little about and some very closed minded people who only saw me as a passport; a promiscuous western girl.

I got to ride a camel out into the desert and watch the sunset, I hiked for 4 hours in the Atlas Mountains and drank tea with a nomadic, Berber family in their tent. I bargain hunted in Merrakesh and Fes, I laughed at kite surfers in Essaouira, and saw a Riad being restored in Fes´old medina.  I was offered 1,000 camels, 3,000, 10 million camels and a riad, all marriage proposals by strangers in the street. I went to a Hammam and left my prudishness aside as I got very naked and very intimate with a woman with the largest breasts I have ever seen.

Morocco was a sensory overload.

I´m happy to be back in spain, back to the lazy days and people not looking to make money off of me when I ask for directions. I have only a few weeks left of this trip before heading home for another adventure: living with my parents. And after that, I will return to Europe to continue this lifestyle.

Being a nomad definitely suits me.

So as you´ve probably guessed, the saga continues with The  Messenger.

Last time I saw him he was tripping pretty badly in Amsterdam off of a very strong special brownie and I had to babysit him for two days because of this. A week later and I am in Barcelona, where we meet up, YET AGAIN.

I have continued couch surfing since my awesome experience in Amsterdam and got to stay with 4 really talented and super generous jazz musicians in San Sebastian, a gorgeous seaside town in northern Spain. I stayed in a hostel my first night in Barcelona but the 2nd night I decided to continue couch surfing. I was all set to stay with this guy, and we had a lovely afternoon of showing me around the city, drinking spanish champagne and eating dinner at his place. We then decide to go to this party for Couch Surfers, where The Messenger would join us.

We meet up, I find out he´s interested in this girl so no more sex for me, and we continue the night talking with a whole range of people, telling the stories we have accumulated throughout our travels together. Most everyone was great, very friendly and interesting to talk to. There was one guy though that made his presense increasingly uncomfortable to be around.

See, I was supposed to stay with this guy but he cancelled last minute and set me up with his friend, another couch surfer. I meet this guy at the party and at first he seems nice but the more drinks he has, the more comments he makes about my getting raped. He would assure me he was joking but he kept saying it and referring to him and the two guys (including the one I was staying with).

The more the night went on, the more uncomfortable I became. Even other people could tell he was giving me problems. The Messenger didn´t feel I was very safe so he walked me back with them. Suddenly we are both being threatened, the guy telling me and The Messenger that we had to watch our backs, that the Messenger would have to protect me from them and that he was “dead” and I was “fucked”.

Excuse me?

I didn´t feel safe any more and The Messenger wasn´t allowing me to stay there by myself so we picked up my stuff and left and ended up crashing on the couch of the full hostel I had stayed at the night before.

So the story has come full circle with The Messenger. He starts by freaking  me out about my safety and ends by saving my butt in a sticky situation.

Of course now I have two bad references on my couchsurfing profile since I left a bad reference for him. But seeing I am just called a dumb american idiot in my reference and I go into details on his, I don´t think it will affect me any. UGH.

The rest of barcelona has been great though! He taught me how to make flowers out of palm tree leaves, we´ve seen a fountain light show and have wandered the city. However, the story of The Messenger is coming to an end. On Thursday we both depart Barcelona, me to Morocco and him to France. I go to Morocco for 10 or so days, then back here to Spain. November 18th I head to Paris (!!) and November 22nd….I come back home from London. I booked my flight yesterday and on March 2nd? I RETURN.

So. A lot has happened that I can´t possibly elaborate all in one post so i´m going to summarize on the one thing you all are dying to know: What the hell is going on with this stalker??

Maybe you´re not dying to know. Maybe you´ve forgotten. Let me refresh your memory. 

So the story picks up about a week later in Edinburgh. Its my last day and I finally get an email from the Messenger. Turns out, he was playing a prank but hadn´t meant to freak me out. After a lot of yelling at him and threatening to kick his ass, I tell him he owes me a drink.

The story is this: he met Roy in a bathroom in a town just north of where I first met him. They got chatting and the town´s name came up and Roy said oh, I just gave an American girl a ride there, and proceeded to give some information on me and tells him to say hi to me for him if he runs into me. On the way down to this town, the Messenger gets a ride from Robert, who then proceeds to hear all about me and decides to send his regards. The Messenger thinks it´d be hilarious to play a little prank on me so he begins with Robert and doesn´t even mention Roy until later. Thats the story in a nutshell.

Little bastard.

After walking down a dark alleyway with him (exceptionally smart of me, which he was quick to point out)  we found ourselves in a bar, laughing and chatting away. Turns out, he´s a pretty decent guy with a great sense of humor and amazingly blue eyes with a nice tan and curly brown hair. Features I cannot resist. Suddenly we´re flirting; suddenly he´s walking me to my bus to London, suddenly we´re MAKING OUT.

Like full out, steamy make out against a wall type of make out session.

Flash forward two days later. I´m in London and I get a message: he´s in London. He hadn´t been joking when he said he wanted to see me again. We meet up and hang out for a couple days. At the end of one night he goes, hey, why don´t you come with me to Amsterdam?

Hello, opportunity knocking? I ANSWERED. I hmmed and hawed for maybe…an hour before deciding to skip out on the rest of England and head to the one city i´ve been dying to go to this entire trip: AMSTERDAM!

We caught a ferry across where I may or may not have hooked up with him in the bathroom on the cabin deck. Maybe.

We get to Amsterdam and I move into my hostel in the red light district (mom would be so proud)  and then meet up with his cousin where we consume only the most amazing food EVER. (i´ve lived off of a backpackers diet, anything better than pasta is AMAZING) I then sleep in a room full of guys (ummm…) before high tailing it over to his hotel where I reside in his bed for the remainder of the morning (after his cousin left of course).

Thanks to Mickey Mouse we got a free lunch (mouse ate through his food at the hotel) and more amazingness was had. I was loving Amsterdam already and I hadn´t even been outside the hotel! From tehre we moved onto our other hotel, no hostels for us. We wanted alone time Which we may or may not have gotten.

The rest of amsterdam went like this: we went into every sex shop in the red light district and I walked away with a vibrator, thanks to Mr Messenger. We went to a coffee shop where I got high and he proceeded to eat AN ENTIRE BROWNIE and ended up having the most hilarious trip ever in the hotel room later. (his first time having pot too) The second brownie he had though?? Holy hell did he have a BAD trip. Two days strong. So I babysat for two days before he took off for spain, ahead of me. Pretty scary stuff. We went on a tour, I went to the Ann Frank house (AMAZING) and we ate a lot of frites with mayo. (my stomach officially hates me)

Safe to say Amsterdam was AMAZING. My favorite city so far on this trip and I had so much fun, which definitely was helped by the Messenger. While it was all just sex between the two of us, he would make a great friend AND he introduced me to couch surfing. The most amazing way to travel EVER. I met a wonderful girl who let me crash on her couch, who I will most likely be traveling to Morrocco with! (if the country lets me in, my passport expires exactly 6 months from now) Not to mention he´s taught me a lot about the attitude I need to take with traveling and has probably had the most influence on me so far this trip.

I´m still riding on the Amsterdam high, even after a bout of bad luck in traveling today (Brussels? Me no likey). My luck has turned though and I find myself in a cheap pension in Spain where I have my very own room and tomorrow? I travel to the seaside town of San Sebastian where I will spend 3 nights couch surfing, then its off to Barcelona where I will meet up with the Messenger, once again. That won´t be the last time I´ll see him either.

After Barcelona we part ways again, I will be going to Morrocco for 10 days where I will ride camels, get harrassed by men and live cheaply before returning to Spain. From there I will meet up with him AGAIN and depending on how my money situation looks, I will continue traveling until thanksgiving, when I promised my parents I would come home. (WHY did i do that?!¿) (Had to throw in that little upside down question mark. Spanish keyboards are fun!)

Now I am in spain to enjoy warm weather and the BEACH!!!!!! Adios amigos.

So I’ve never seen the movie Hostel. In fact, I’ve refused seeing it since I backpack around europe on a yearly basis. Without seeing it, I have had what constitutes as the beginning to the sequel happen to me.

I have been in scotland around 2 weeks now, but at the time of this story I was just 5 days into my trip. I had been in a small town for a few days and when I arrived in Glencoe, the most remote village I’ve ever been to, I was ready for some good hiking, pretty views and peace and quiet. The hostel I stayed at was a mile and a half outside the village which consisted of a tiny post office, a telephone booth, and a convenience store. There wasn’t even a pub. NO PUB. In scotland. WTF is that about? Anyway.

Before I arrived there though I was in Ballachulish, the town over–the closest place that the bus would drop me off. I was 3 miles from my hostel and it was pouring; I couldn’t get a taxi but upon hearing my plight an old man gave me a lift to the hostel. I was thinking my luck was pretty awesome at that point and when the sun came out for the first time in 4 days, I was thrilled. I took advantage of this and took a hike in the woods, marveling at how gorgeous everything was and my god COULD SCOTLAND BE ANY PRETTIER?

I was in this blissful state only brought on by amazing scenery when I arrived back at the hostel. Standing in the reception area was an American guy wearing a NY cap. He asked if I was Ashley and said he had a message for me.

Thinking it was from the owners of the hostel I listened and he said that Robert sends his regards.

I was confused for a moment, wondering who Robert was when I remembered I had met a Rob in Norway and I reacted as if it were the same person. It was his turn to be confused.

“Oh, You know him?”

Turns out I didn’t know him. The rest of the message was as follows: He hoped I had a good trip, he was sorry that i had issues with the taxi but was glad I got a ride. He also hoped I had a nice walk. He had some life message for me about what I should do with my life but the messenger couldn’t remember what that was.

WHAT

THE

FUCK.

Not only did he know everything about what I’d done that day but he knew my name, where I was from (NYC) and all about my trip. Not to mention: WHERE I WAS STAYING. Things he couldn’t have found out in the tourist information center in Ballachulish since I hadn’t spoken to anyone about my trip; I hadn’t given my name, or where I was staying, nor where I was from. In fact, I hadn’t talked to ANYONE that day outside of the old man who gave me a ride, and he wasn’t blond, short or 34–the description of this Robert.

I hadn’t emailed anyone, I hadn’t spoken with friends or family. NO ONE knew where I was. This couldn’t have been a trickster, someone I knew playing a cruel joke.

The messenger knew more than he was saying but he was hungry and wanted me to buy him food and I refused. So he scribbled his name on the back of my hand in blue permanent marker and told me to email him on facebook if I really wanted to know. I’m still waiting to find out.

It freaked the shit out of me, knowing someone was following me so closely and to not know I was being watched. How he found out all this information is beyond me. Once I spoke with the owners it turned out that the messenger had shown up quite a bit before I had arrived and was searching the hostel for me, saying that his phone wasn’t working and he couldn’t reach me but he had a message for me.

Oh and told everyone to watch for my reaction, I was going to be surprised.

Once the message was relayed to everyone else, we were all pretty freaked and I didn’t sleep at all that night, expecting someone to come bursting through my door at any minute. Luckily I wasn’t alone in the room.

The next morning, instead of taking the longer hike like I wanted to, I high tailed it out of there on the first bus, not wanting to risk being approached by this Robert character out in the middle of the woods. I didn’t want my scary story to actually BECOME Halloween Part 20 or something.

But that isn’t going to stop me from selling the rights to Wes Craven. It’ll be the next big thing, just you watch!

I’m currently sprawled out on my bed in one of the worst hostels I’ve ever stayed at (and one of the most expensive, at that) in Copenhagen. The horrendous conditions include: i can’t sit up in my bed, theres no pillow and no blankets either–and its cold in here!–with a communal shower (no joke, everyone takes one together) and walls that fall over if you lean into them.

Not that I’m really complaining, I’ve spent a wonderful past week in Berlin, Schwerin, and Hamburg and Copenhagen is beautiful, if not extremely expensive. Its only the beginning–Norway is even worse I’ve been told. Anyways. Berlin took a couple days to warm up to but I ended up loving it, with all its history, eclectic neighborhoods and interesting people. Hamburg was just gorgeous, full of interesting architecture (makes me want to get a job there) right on the river Elbe and as I sat watching the sunset, eating a crab sandwich by the harbor, I fell in love with the city, with how peaceful it was. Confusing as fuck to get around, but loved it nevertheless.

Schwerin was a last minute decision; it was halfway between berlin and hamburg and right near a town my ancestors came from. That particular town, Ludwigslust, was so quaint and cute–with little old houses (literally tiny, my brother was taller than them! Further proof he is the milkmans son) and lanes and a pretty awesome palace as well. (we’re going to tell people thats where they lived, shhh don’t tell anyone)

My brother and I aren’t getting along on this trip. I think 3 weeks has been too long and we’re starting to get on each others nerves. I’m ready to push him in front of a moving vehicle and we nearly got in a screaming match on the ferry over to Denmark this morning. Friday cannot come quick enough.

What’s friday? Well, thats when I head to Norway and thats when I head off on my solo adventure. I couldn’t be more excited.

Now I must go back to living like a sardine in this awful hostel in Copenhagen. I can’t wait for Thursday night when I get to sleep in a hotel!

I’m sitting here currently waiting on my midnight train to Berlin. Had to say goodbye to Freiburg today and my free place to stay, however it will be nice to have a bed thats mine and not feel like I’m in someone’s way!

I’ve had a really nice couple of weeks and its rare that I find myself with time to punch out a decent post (or ever really think about blogging!).  I’ve been focusing a lot on my trip and on myself. One of the major things that I’m trying to work on is my constant need to be doing something. Its a byproduct of living in NYC, the constant stimulation and need to do things that leaves me all wound up.

Its about time I kicked that habit; I have been trying to at least once a day take a moment and sit down, whether it be in a park, by a lake or somewhere quiet, to just be. No reading, no taking pictures, no biting my fingernails, trying to not even think…just be with the constant motion of my breathing.

Its really hard let me tell you.

Used to be that I could walk around and I’d feel like I was quieting my head, but really, my head has a constant stream of thoughts; one minute Norwegians are flying through my head then a bratwurst sandwich will pop up. Its never ending.

Sitting down I try, with a little success, to quiet the voices. To put them out of mind for the moment and just relax. It’s helping to calm my nerves, especially after having one of my fantastic conversations with my mother regarding jobs, the HORRIBLE, NO GOOD ECONOMY and how I shouldn’t be in Europe spending my money (alittle late for that now!). She’s been super emotional and easy to disown (I’ve had my rights to move home revoked at least three times since I’ve left NYC, including the day I left) and while I thought menopause happened LAST YEAR and we were past that, apparently there are some lingering effects.

Anyhow, this post isn’t about my emotionally draining mother, its about my own personal mental health and damnit if it isn’t pretty awesome right now.  I’ve been kind of ready to move past Freiburg at this point, while the city is awesome and the surrounding areas gorgeous and I could live in any number of the towns, I’m getting restless.

Its a good thing I have a train to catch in an hour and a half then. I’m really excited about the next bunch of legs in this trip, they are taking me to places I hadn’t planned on before, including a ten day stint in Norway, some time in Sweden before making a quick trip out of the UK before catching a boat to warm and sunny spain and portugal for the remaining three weeks of my trip.

Obviously this will change a thousand more times.

Lessons I have learned so far:

• Don’t buy round trip train tickets, you may decide to change your itinerary last minute
• Don’t buy plane tickets to other countries months before you even arrive on the continent. THINGS CHANGE!
• There is no such word as ’should’ on this trip; I can do whatever the hell *I* want and if I don’t feel like doing something, I don’t have to do it
• Be open to adventure and feel free to go to places not originally on your travel calendar. (and to exclude certain places if you feel like)
• Chocolate pudding, chocolate croissants and chocolate bread become staples in the very odd diet you have appeared to pick up.
• Wash your new GAP jeans (from the GAP party!) before you wear them. I was a little sweaty today and I may or may not have dyed my legs blue.
• The exchange rate SUCKS.

Hope all is well with everyone, here’s to next time I get around to writing something! Prost!

I can’t believe its been two weeks since I’ve left NYC. It still hasn’t sunk in that Iäm on this big, extended vacation; a vacation that is constantly evolving. I spent a glorious two days in Munich, where I had beer and sausage with a German Count, strolled the gardens of Schloss Nymphenburg for hours, drank a liter of beer with a guy from the US and had a free ‘baby beer’ at midnight with everyone from my room in the hostel I was staying at.

Freiburg is a pretty city, its old town charming and full of history. I’m also under the firm belief it is built on water since it sprouts up EVERYWHERE, including alongside the roads in what was once the old sewer system. I’ve wandered through outdoor markets, climbed a mountain to eat on top of it and have taken the trains around the the different towns in the area. I’ve hiked around numerous lakes, eaten a lot of sausage, drank a lot of beer and have even cooked for myself in my brother’s kitchen.

I’ve been euphirically happy for the majority of the time yet have felt rather lonely too and had a day where I was pretty depressed. As I write, I’m freaking out about money. I have had time to really think, to reflect and wonder about the many questions going on in my head.

I make last minute travel decisions; I went to Switzerland on a couple days notice and spent two nights in the magical Lucerne, which I promptly fell in love with when I gazed out at the lake from my balcony at my hostel. I wandered the entire town multiple times over, I defied my fear of heights by climbing to the top of an old tower and terrifying myself in the process (I’m talking sweat dripping, legs shaking for 15 minutes kind of terrifying). I walked across wooden bridges, saw a lion carved out of rock and an african band performing at a city-wide festival.

There is so much I have done and have yet to do and one thing that is constant: I hate European keyboards. Hence why I have not written yet and may not for a while still. Despite the keyboards, I love it here and am much happier than I have been in a long time. I’m currently in the midst of changing all my plans for this trip; what once included the UK and Ireland is now being changed up with Norway taking more precedence and Ireland possibly getting the boot in preference to Southern Spain.

But that could all change. I am open for adventure and I cannot wait to see what this wld and crazy trip has in store for me!

Whats this? I have a BLOG? Who would have thought?

This is going to be brief because I hate this keyboard and havenät had access to a regular computer in a week or more. Just wanted to give a small, brief, HI! and that iäm loving Germany, of course. But please, Germany, can you turn on the AC? I’M ROASTING.

So, enlighten me. What is going on with your lives?! I fully intend on stealing my brothers laptop and writing a post but for now, I apologize that this is all you are getting.

This poll is solely for those who are on the email list about the meetup. Please ignore this and please do not respond yes if you cannot go. I am making reservations tomorrow morning and need this final headcount to give to them.  Thanks!

Just to remind everyone, reservations are for 9:30pm on Saturday August 15th at the restaurant of choice that I emailed you about.

We’re down to the last week before the meetup and I’m sure a lot of people have given up hope that this actually is happening, but never fear, IT IS!

It definitely snuck up on me; hell this month just kind of popped out of the gopher hole and was like HI HERE I AM! And I’m not prepared. Not prepared at all. I have an entire 7 days to quell the rising ugly cry that is forming in my tear ducts, 7 days to say goodbye to my friends, 7 days to wrap up my life in NYC. And only 4 days til all hell breaks loose the bloggers decend upon Manhattan.

I’m so excited and just a tad bit overwhelmed because of course theres tons of shit still left to do and I’m a procrastinator of the professional variety. It will get done though, everything will be fabulous and twitter will shit stars and rainbows and unicorns and hearts for three days and people will envious us in the big apple.

Or what I like to call, giving Chicago a taste of its own medicine

I swear this isn’t a competition but oh, its fun to pretend it is.

Anyways, I’m really excited to meet everyone, we have a great crowd of over 30 people (THIRTY PEOPLE @#%$#%@#$!!!!!) who love to party coming in from all over the place. Its going to be pretty spectacular and I’m really excited for it.

Not to mention that this weekend happens to also be my last weekend in NYC and OHMYGOD how is it august already?!?! Seriously guys. I cannot wrap my brain around the fact that this is my LAST WEEK IN NEW YORK. I cannot fathom it.

I must pass out now before I die from tiredness (is that possible?). I’ve taken tomorrow off to hang with an old MSU friend of mine and I must go to the Yankees game tomorrow even though I really am not on pleasant terms with them. I’m only going to see the stadium. Bastards.

I also have a few choice words which I want to throw at the Red Sox for their apparent brain fart on how to play baseball, but thats another post for another day.

NYC BLOGGER MEET UP IN 4 DAYS!!!!!!!

(Feel free to use the banner above on your own blog if you are going!)