Saturday, August 20, 2011

Imagine

The problem with writing about your travels is prioritising your stories and deciding what's worthy.

I could write about individual experiences over the couple of weeks, talking about all the sights, attractions and people, but I'd end up with something 6000 words long.

So the question becomes, what do I write about? What makes the cut?

The 35 minutes of panic and horror at the Seattle International Train Station I experienced when I thought I had lost my passport? Or the embarrassing place I found it after notifying security?

The mystery surrounding my suitcase. How is it getting heavier each day when I haven't actually added any items to the luggage?

What about the incredible tale of getting into San Francisco's Alcatraz prison despite it being completely booked out for a month in advance?

I think airports, flying, delays, getting through US customs and how to keep yourself busy while waiting is probably worth a blog all on it's own for another day.

No, I think I'll save those tales and just remain really generic and aimless like usual.

I write to you today from the floor in one of the hallways of my San Diego hostel - Lucky D's.

The hangover I'm nursing is the stuff of legend. I have sore spots on my body, but no idea where they've come from. The German girl next to me, Lina, has been skyping her dad back home.

German is such a beautiful, angry language.

Whoever is running the hostel has been playing the soundtrack to my life from 2006-2008. It's just been one amazing song after another. Appropriately, John Lennon's Imagine just came on. If I didn't think I'd throw up from the effort, I'd probably get up and break into song.

Imagine all the people, living for today.

Lina tells me that the movie Up is playing in the common room. One of my inspirations for adventure and travel.

Good sign.

I'm now past the three week mark of the trip and I've had a revelation.

This is it.

This is that period of time that I'll look back on for the rest of my life as my prime.

The escape, the fun, the life lessons... I'll never top this.

Sure, one day, maybe, if I can trick a girl into taking me, there could be kids, houses and a goldfish that we'll forget to feed. But, as far as adventures go, I don't know how to top this. I don't know how to go back to the rat race after living like this.

The US has certainly been a different experience to Canada, but no less fun.

The buildings are bigger, the cars are bigger, the servings of food are bigger and, by extension, some of the people are a LOT bigger, but I've felt incredibly welcome everywhere I go and certainly enjoyed the cheap(er) food and drinks.

My ever-expanding stomach says hi.

Seattle provided great sights, good people and a solid platform into the west coast.

San Francisco provided some of the best people I've met on the trip and a vibrant city filled with fun.

Early days in San Diego have been amazing. It's going to be tough to leave.

The most exciting thing is that I feel this way and I may be yet to reach the best part. Vegas, LA, NY and the east coast are still to come.

The good signs have continued to come. Things on the list have fallen into place.
Apart from a few cold days in San Francisco, the weather has been perfect.

I have no one to argue with. Anger, frustration, depression - I left those emotions somewhere on the plane between Melbourne and Toronto.

My meager attempts to travel semi-healthy have fallen away. Subway has been replaced by cheese burgers. Water replaced by "your coldest beer please" and exercise replaced with hangover recovery.

My body and I are not on great terms right now. It's disappointed that I fell asleep on a Vancouver beach without sunscreen on. It's angry I keep drinking and eating. It doesn't appreciate the sleep deprivation.


So, I made a compromise. I bought a pair of runners and in doing that, I've made another discovery.

Running in a foreign city turns a normal, unfit person like myself into a world-class athlete.

I no longer feel pain when I hit the 10km mark. How could I when I look to my right and see a sunset, beautiful park or marina.

My lungs take in more air when the backdrop is not a familiar, depressing track in Cranbourne.

I don't need to convince myself to push on anymore - I have to convince myself to stop.

I imagine this is how Forrest Gump must have felt when he went on his journey.

All this talk of exercise has made me hungry. There is a sports bar and cheese burger with my name on it downstairs.

Next stop: Vegas baby.

Tuesday, August 9, 2011

Me time

Whether it's in sport or life in general, when you have a dream start, things have a way of slowing down.

I've been waiting for my trip to slow down, but it hasn't happened.

This week there is no sporting brilliance, long-lost family or old friends to write about, but, against the odds, the fun has raged on.

I've found myself running out of words I can use to describe the experience.

The one that comes to mind now is overwhelmed.

The fun, excitement, adventure - it's all happened so fast and with such intensity that it's hard to take in.

I think travel is one of the only things adults can do to capture what it's like to be a child again. You know, if a child drank and ate too much and spent money like it was going out of fashion. When we grow up, we stop experiencing things for the first time. Travel is the best way I know that can get that back.

Three weeks on the US west coast awaits. The tour will feature stops in Seattle, Portland, San Francisco, LA, San Diego and Las Vegas.

As I type now, I'm on a train from Vancouver to Seattle. My Canadian stay is temporarily over.



This is one hell of a train ride. Watching the sun slowly set on a coast lined with soaring pine trees and cosy little towns is a thing of beauty, as is having wifi and cushioned seats.

The guy on the seat next to me, Cameron from 'Seaaattle', has flaunted every 'stop talking to me' sign I could put up. Wearing headphones didn't work, reading a book didn't work and trying to look busy on the laptop hasn't worked. After the third time he accidentally spat in my face while asking me questions about kangaroos and koalas, like those jokes were a new concept he just thought up, I got up and went to the dining car.



After six days of fun in Vancouver meeting great people, if Cameron is my punishment, i'll happily cop it on the chin, especially if I have a view like this one when I look to my right -->

Canada, I am in your debt. Don't ask me for any money though because I've spent it all.

Toronto was followed by a stay in the picturesque Montreal, then the fun of Vancouver. Again, I've been able to find good people to spend my nights with and again, I've been able to entertain myself during moments of solitude with beaches, restaurants, fireworks, exploring and some unbelievable sights along the way.




Things on 'The List' are slowly and entertainingly getting ticked off one by one. I'll save those tales for the final blog.

Now, after an amazing two weeks, I can provide all the cliches that everyone has heard before.

I'm learning about myself. I'm inspired. I'm free. I know it all has to end so I'm enjoying every moment.. etc etc etc..

That's all true and when it does happen, it's an amazing experience. But, it's the other things that I'm picking up along the way that interest me just as much.

These are some of life's new lessons that spring to mind.

Self reliance - Dominic Ciconte is the only person I can rely on to ensure I make my next flight. There is no one to bail me out. Ciconte is the only person who can make sure I stick to a semi-reasonable budget. He is the only person that can help in times of crisis.

This is the same guy who could get lost driving in a car park. It's the same guy who has 'misplaced' his wallet three times in the last 18 months. I've seen him panic, crawl into the fetal position and weep on many occasions.

Is he trustworthy?

To say I'm sceptical is an understatement, but so far, touch wood, he's doing ok.

Photography - There are no words to describe the beauty of a photo that features my shoulder, a close up of my face and an out-of-focus landmark in the background. Can't wait to show you all.

Freedom - It's liberating to wake up every morning, have no responsibilities or commitments and then go and do whatever I want for the day.

There is no compromises, no debates, no deadlines, no rules (except the legal ones set by the Government) no limits and no one to answer to. It's just me.

Rat race? What rat race?


Solitude - Despite all the friends you make, the nature of travel is that eventually you have to move on. More often than not, you're alone. Alone with your thoughts, alone with a book or alone with your music.
Being alone is never fun, but getting past the clingy attachments and need to be constantly surrounded by family and friends is also a good thing. It makes you appreciate the time you spend with them more.

Carpe diem - Actually taking moments to stop, breathe and think about where you are and how you got there can be inspiring.
The sights are beautiful, the drinking is fun, the people are great, but it's those little moments in between the bigger ones that make traveling worth the trouble. Those are the moments you have to seize.

The best moments of this trip, for me, will never make their way on to facebook for everyone to see. I won't be able to do them justice when I try to convey them through dance, as I like to do with most of my stories.

And with that point comes the pitfall of solo travel.

I don't get to share.

Ample 'me time' is part and parcel of the gig.


Sometimes, unfortunately, maybe because of body odor or horrible personality, it's just me.

When I see parents walking their child on a leash like a dog, when I see a homeless man with an hilarious sign that reads "smile if you masturbate, then give me money", when I trip over nothing and eat cement in front of a big crowd of people (may or may not have happened) I can't turn to my left and laugh about it with anyone.

I still think travel is a game for couples. I know this because I see them everywhere - asking me to take a picture for them.

There is only so many sunsets, waterfalls and romantic moments a single solo traveler can take!

But, in the big scheme of things, those moments are a very, very small price to pay.

I'd take them over Cameron.

Monday, August 1, 2011

Good sign

I'm a "It was meant to be" kind of guy.

I like to look for life's little signs to help justify my big decisions.

This year, more than any other, has been a year for some pretty big decisions - going overseas, resigning at work, ending my delicious relationship with KFC and a litany of others.

I'm slowly building my way up to responsible adult decisions. It's all about baby steps.

Sometimes you can get all the positive signs in the world and the end result is still heartbreaking. But, if you're willing to follow them, they will look after you more often than not.

Now, when I say signs, I'm not talking about the alien crop-circle movie starring Mel Gibson that no one should ever watch on a farm, at night, alone with the lights off like I did...

I'm talking about the perfectly-timed song in the background that speaks to you, chance encounters with people thought long gone, personal messages within advertising or the right quote at the right time.

If you're paying attention, these signs should make you pause, tilt your head to the right and rub your chin. Smoking a pipe and having a long white beard is optional.

So, after arriving in Toronto for the first leg of the trip four days ago, I was looking for signs to convince me that the trip would be a success. That I wouldn't regret another big decision.

Toronto delivered.


The city provided a benchmark for fun that will be tough to top. I don't really know what I was expecting, but it wasn't this.

In amongst the beauty, the hospitality of the people, the incredible sights, the vibrant atmosphere, the jaw-dropping power of Niagara Falls, the drinks, the girls, the partying and the sleep deprivation were a few signs worth sharing.

The friends, the family and the catch.

The friends
If you're willing to sacrifice some privacy, some sleep and some water pressure during a shower, hostels will reward you with like-minded people, new friends... and the occasional bed bug.
To be back in an environment where everyone is free from responsibility and looking for adventure is liberating.
Instead of being in a shared room with a group of three or four friends and having to weasel my way into picking up some drinking buddies, I found myself in a room with two lads in the same boat as me - travelling alone. An Englishman, an Irishman and Aussie - no one understood us, but we had a ripping time.


On top of this, I'm treated to the amazing hospitality of Canadian friends made while travelling through Europe two years ago. Nadine Green, Andrew Brandt, take a bow - They absolutely went above and beyond to show me an amazing time. Couldn't have asked for better tour guides. I was picked up at the airport at 1am, wasn't allowed to pay for anything despite my protests and was given a 'behind the scenes' tour of the city.

Good sign.



The family

Travelling alone for 60 days, I was sure I would be saying goodbye to a decent home-cooked meal and the fun banter of Italian relatives trying to one-up each other around a table until I got home.

How wrong I was.

Through the magic of Facebook, we found direct relatives that lived in Toronto some time ago and I was lucky enough to stay in touch and meet up with them when I arrived.
Tom Ciconte, his wife Liz and son Luke picked me up On Saturday and drove me out to another relative's birthday party near Niagara.

With a little research, Tom had informed me that we were related directly through our grandfathers, who were brothers.

When we got to the party, I was introduced to the birthday boy, Richard Paola, who, somehow, recognised me.

"You're Gino's boy right?" he asks casually.
"What!!?? How do you know dad?"

Turns out Richard had visited Melbourne 20 years ago, visited all of the family and took an interest in following the entire family tree. It was incredible to listen to a relative in another country who you've never meet talk about relatives you grew up with.


The night was fantastic, I felt right at home, laughed all night and didn't want to leave.

Canadians just know how to host.

Good sign.

The catch

This is the sign to beat all signs. It's actually more of an open slap to the face. I'll never top this for as long as I live.

Nadine and Andrew surprised me with a baseball game on my first day in the city. The Toronto Blue Jays were hosting the Baltimore Orioles at Rogers Stadium, which is an incredible sight at night with the CN Tower in the background.
After getting a pre-game beer at a nearby sports bar, we arrived at the beginning of the second inning and the Blue Jays were batting.
Our seats were incredible. Second level above home plate, cushion seats, beer and food a few metres away.
As we sat down, we quickly saw one batter walked. A Blue Jay named Eric Thames came to the plate. The first two pitches were balls, the third was a foul ball hit hard in our direction.


As soon as it came off the bat, I knew it was mine. I stood up, beer in left hand and caught the ball with my right hand clean as a whistle. Those who have seen me field in cricket may not believe it, but it happened. I plucked the ball clean with one hand, without dropping a sip of my beer.

The reality of what happened took a few seconds to register. My first baseball game, the fourth pitch I see and I catch a foul ball. The crowd around us cheered, we laughed and I stared at the ball in disbelief.
Nadine and Andrew were on the phone, shocked, telling family and friends. I had a quick chat with Andrew's dad that went something like this:
"Ive been going to baseball games my whole life and I've never caught a foul ball. My father went to baseball games his whole life and never caught a foul ball. You sit down for your first at-bat and catch one straight away! Where's the justice?"



First night of the trip and I end up with a souvenir that I will cherish for life.



Almost like it was meant to be.

I don't want to jinx anything, but...

Good sign.