Wayfarer: Me!

amI’ve officially run out of Wayfarers to profile on this blog, so while I gather some more exciting traveller’s stories to share I thought I’d act as my own stand-in in the interim and answer the same questions I’ve been posing to others all these months.

What countries have you visited? Canada, the USA, Mexico, Nicaragua, Guyana, Brazil, Barbados, Cuba, Grand Cayman, France, Monaco, Italy, the Vatican City State (Holy See).

What is your favourite place to visit? Every three to six months I get huge cravings for the salt air of Vancouver. My first visit was in 2012 and I think that trip planted a seed of love in my brain and heart for that great city. It’s the perfect mix of ocean, mountains and city. I also have an obsession with New York City, and just like Vancouver, I get an insufferable yearning to go back at least three times a year. Paris also ranks high on this list, as well as Rome.

What’s one thing you’ve learned from your travels? The act of travelling provides one with a road to enlightenment. Whether it’s a physical, spiritual or mental enlightenment, travelling helps soothe my soul and expands my knowledge of the world. My travels have provided me with a sense of calmness and joy, and this only proves to me that home need not be where your roots are, but where you find pieces of yourself.

What’s one thing you must always bring with you on a trip? I have this leather Roots passport cover that I’ve brought with me on every trip I’ve taken since its purchase many years ago. It keeps me organized because it’s big enough to fit my passport, money, travel documents, and cards. Being able to reach into my bag and find it by touch is also reassuring to my nerves. Plus, the little beaver of the Roots logo on the front is purple, my favourite colour 😉

What are the top three destinations on your travel bucket list? I’m going to exclude my #1 spot seeing how I’ll be leaving for Spain in less than two weeks, but the runners up are Hawaii, Easter Island and Machu Picchu (though there are at least five other places I’m dying to visit, Scotland being one of them).

What’s the craziest thing to have happened to you while on a trip? This story is a bit embarrassing but what the hell, I’m an adult now and can laugh about it. Back in high school I went on a group trip to Italy and France with fellow students and some of our teachers. I was extremely close with my art teacher (I called her Mama B), so her going as a chaperone basically made my decision to go that much easier. Accompanying her on the trip was her son. I fell in love with the kid the moment I saw his picture.

We started the trip in Italy, first visiting Venice then making our way down to Florence. Because of a mishap with another group that had arrived prior to our own, our accommodation in Florence was cancelled, booting us to a place to stay in the Tuscan hills.

Being young and a highly passionate individual, I became internally emotional when my desire to make my teacher’s son my new beau went unfulfilled. During one of our nights in Florence we were taken to an Italian restaurant for dinner, and being of drinking age, my good friend Ana and I polished off some cheap, red, table wine of an amount that I still can’t remember to this day. Let me just add here that it was my first experience with red wine, so that should set the stage for what’s about to be shared.

Our transportation on the trip was a coach bus. Ana and I (along with the other older students), always sat at the back. The back, I know now and will never forget, is the bumpiest ride on that entire blasted bus. After a few minutes of driving I could feel the wine’s rage grabbing hold of me. I turned to Ana (who later told me my face went as white as a sheet), then proceeded to puke all over her lap. On the bus. On a bus full of high school kids. Red wine vomit all over Ana’s new Parasuco jeans. I was very quickly shaken out of my stupor and somehow Ana and I managed to change my top and her entire outfit while still in our seats. And as far as we knew, no one even noticed (except one of the younger girls who quipped “Ewwww. It smells like vomit!” to which Ana replied “Shut up, Jenna!!” Ana’s voice saying that line will never leave my memory).

Once we arrived back at our accommodation, I spent the night scrubbing my embarrassment out of Ana’s clothing. I think I gave up on my own shirt and just threw the damned thing away. I then had a heart-to-heart with Mama B about the whole incident, admitting to her everything. You know those teachers that help form your adolescent self into a better adult? Mama was one of those teachers. Even though this happened over a decade ago, red wine still smells like puke to me.



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