Brandy Bell loves adventuring around the world. She's been a solo female traveler since 2006 and has visited over 25 countries, made countless international friends, and now writes to inspire you to travel in a sustainable and responsible way.
Last night I walked around the old quarter by the light of the full May moon, and followed the sounds of a guitar to the top of the hill. Sitting alone on his balcony was a young man picking the guitar with the entire landscape of the Alhambra as his backdrop.
I asked myself where I wanted to go, and the truth is it doesn’t matter to me. I will make it around to every place I dream of eventually- the order is not what’s important, it’s the experience. Right now, a place that will allow me to see the world on a fringe of a shoestring budget (yeah, what now Lonely Planet?) is exactly what I need.
I rested my head on the cold marble pillar of the club for a few seconds, gaining strength to open my eyes and face my new world. When I opened my eyes I realized exactly what this meant. I have no cash, I have no passport, I have no identification or means of getting money- in a word, I am screwed.
After this delicious little bite, we finished our glasses and set off for the next place in search of patatas bravas- but the bar was too crowded to get in the door, so we skipped it and headed for Pata Negro- a Jamonero. I thought about having a little jamon (since I am in Spain after all) but decided the blue cheese and tomato preserve bocadillo sounded better. It was ridiculously great. It deserved a moment of silence- it was that good.
Everyone has a specialty and generally the quality is far superior from any market you can find. (okay, I still love Trader Joe’s). Of course, at the time I didn’t love it because my bananas got smashed in the door on my way out and I tripped on the curb due to my depth perception problem courtesy of my one contact.
I didn’t write down the address of my hostel before getting to the airport! That’s okay I said, and checked my internet in Athens Int’l. I started to write down walking directions, and then my ADHD kicked in. I don’t know what happened or how it happened, but my directions stopped in the center of an intersection, with no hostel in sight.
After about 2 km I saw a man who was probably on vacation from playing Grandfather Time. Seriously, he’s old! His back was bent in the arch that makes you want to roll a matchbox cars down it (just me? okay then..). I slowed the car out of respect and waited for the obligatory “Herete”. He indicated for me to stop and so I did. He asked if I had a cigarette, sadly, I did not. Then he saw the camera I had just used to photograph the goats. He smiled excitedly and motioned I should take a photo of him. Great idea, I’ve found Moses and now I can document it.
I will miss the sound of the checkers clacking on the worn wooden backgammon board, the laughter of the children playing tag in the streets, the sun sifting itself through the leaves of the elm at Tops cafe, and the sight of Katerina bumming cigarettes from tourists. This is my Olympia, and I will always return here and find exactly what I left- because it is intangible.
Now I realize my I am losing the English battle. When I wish to tell someone I am going to my house in English, it comes out as “I go house mine sleeping now”. Wow- a drunk 4 year old can do better. What happened? The sentence structure of nearly every other language I know has caught up to me. Nouns, verbs, adjectives, its a freaking free-for-all in my brain.
I’ve long believed I was the center of the world (or universe) and last week, I was actually correct! That is, of course, if you abide by the Greek mentality that long held Delphi to be the center of the world. This is the place where mankind was supposed to be the closest to God, to…