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.