around the world

Ever since I went to Australia, I have been dreaming of traveling to as many countries as I possibly can. As I thought about all the possibilities, I had a dream that perhaps I could teach in every continent one day. It was a wonderful dream. One that unfortunately seems unrealistic when compared to my other dream of having my own classroom in the Toronto area one day. You see, at the moment it's hard enough to get on the supply list for teaching, let alone to get a full time permanent position. This is why I have decided to spend the school year in the Yukon, gaining some experience in Canada.

This does not mean I have given up my dream completely. I still will follow my heart to every continent somehow. And after a lengthy discussion with one of my roommates last night I have figured out exactly what I need to do...

I will my try best to stick it out in Whitehorse until the end of the school year in June. At that point, if I have not made it on a supply list back at home in Toronto (or Durham), I plan to buy a Round the World plane ticket and spend as long as I can seeing the countries I really want to see, visiting the friends I have made all over the world, and just doing what I want to do. 

Recently I saved up a lot of money, it was supposed to be for a surprise trip to South America for my now ex-boyfriend for his birthday, a lot of it anyways. That clearly did not work out as planned, glad he broke up with me before I wasted money on that, to be honest. But after spending half of it on my car and the road trip here, I now want to keep saving and use it for what it is intended for - travel. 

This is my goal. I am writing this so I can focus on it and make it happen. As well as a way to reach out to anyone who has done this before for information, tips, etc. Also it's my way to prepare my friends across the world to get their spare rooms ready, I am coming to visit! My main goal is still to get on the supply list, teaching is my passion. I want that more than anything. But traveling has become another passion of mine. And right now, with the past year having kicked my ass a bit, I believe I deserve a trip around the world, on me ;)

trust your instincts

I recently had a situation that came up in my travels that was very similar to my own situation in life, that it actually got me thinking way too much. On my stop over in Calgary, I was lucky enough to hang out with a friend I had met almost six years ago on my flight to Australia. He was kind enough to take me around for a day and crash at his and his girlfriend's place for a night. The only problem with the whole scenario was that his girlfriend was uncomfortable with having a random girl she has never met, or heard of, come to visit. Rightfully so, though I felt that as soon as she met me she would realize it was no big deal. I was just stopping through for a day, no intentions of anything more than catching up with a friend.

But I can understand where she was coming from, having been in a similar situation not too long before this. My now ex-boyfriend put me in a similar but worse situation. Here I was, dating my boyfriend for 2-4 years, depending how you count it, and he was having a girl come to visit from Australia. He timed his moving out of my place so perfectly, that he had his own place downtown for her to come stay at. Not to mention she had been a constant worry of mine, as he knew, because they had a history. And because I am pretty good at telling when someone is lying to me. But no they were 'just friends'. And being a traveler as well, I know what it's like to meet people while traveling who you keep in touch with, one way or another, and I would like to think I would give a couch to sleep on to any of my traveling friends if they were in town.

But I am naive. Because I always forget that just because I am one way, doesn't mean everyone is the same. And so she came to visit; I met her. Hell, I even liked her. I enjoyed the conversation over the few days she was staying for the first visit, as she was coming back for a longer stay soon. After this meeting, I felt relieved, my lack of trust seemed silly all of the sudden. This girl seemed harmless. But alas, I was broken up with merely a few days after this visit, leaving me out of the picture for her next visit in a few weeks. It's funny how we can be worried about something for so long, and just when we are finally put at ease, the rug gets ripped out from underneath us.

We never want to believe our partners are capable of doing these things, but we can't help but worry. Which is why I understood where my friend's girlfriend was coming from. It's a hard situation to be put in; you want to be the cool, understanding girlfriend who can just go with the flow, but you worry. And you get jealous. And it's not your fault.

I wanted so much to tell my friend's girlfriend my own story, tell her how I was in the same situation, but my boyfriend actually left me to be with the girl who came to visit. I figured that maybe telling her that story she would sympathize with me, but then I thought some more about it. I didn't want her to get the wrong idea and not be able to trust the next traveling girl coming to visit. Because even in my situation, I would do it all the exact same. I would try to be accommodating. I would be the bigger person and deal with my issues. I would expect the same from any partner of mine. Because to be honest, as a traveler, that's what I would hope others would show me as well.

It's a shame the way things turned out. I can't say it hasn't fucked up my psyche a little bit. Who likes to be introduced to their replacement before being broken up with? It's a rather odd situation to be in. It messes with your head a bit, makes you wonder if you really know anything anymore. You want so much to believe that other people are worth trusting, but when it all comes down to it, you should always trust your own instincts first. The only person who you can ever truly trust is yourself.

But in the end, I would tell my friend's girlfriend not to let those feelings of uncertainty, or jealousy, or lack of trust, get in the way of being open to situations like this. I may be naive, I may be thought of as a fool. Put in a similar situation, I would do the same as I did before. I would find fun things for that person to do. I would buy an air mattress for them to sleep on. I would go out of my way to be accommodating. I would do this because that is who I am. I want to believe that no one would put you through that situation to hurt you. No one would come for a visit to take your boyfriend away from you. That kind of shit happens only in the movies, no?

from one mailbox to another

This week I received my first bit of mail at my new 'home'. I was delighted to say the least. There is something about receiving mail to your new address that makes it all seem a little bit more real. Like, 'hey I live here now, it says so on the front of this envelope'. As if all it takes is someone writing your name with your new address to make it so. It's a surreal feeling in a way, especially in this day and age, with email, Facebook, Instagram and the likes. There are so many ways to communicate with one another from across the country (or world), that snail mail, as it has so accurately been called, is becoming less and less common. Which is a shame, as there is something so meaningful and heartfelt about sending and receiving real, handheld mail.

I remember receiving mail when I was in Australia. A few things here or there from friends, nothing spectacular that is engraved into my memory. But the thing I do remember about my mail, is that I kept it with me, even as I moved from place to place (3 different living situations in total). I always had it with me so that I could remember that even if I don't get to talk to my friends and family every day, and even though I cannot see them, I am loved. It's cheesy but it's true. I live for the little bits of mail I receive. Hey even when I am not away, but that's just usually the weekly online shopping packages I get in the mail.

I think my favourite bit of mail while away, and this is going to sound ridiculous to most, was a sample of adult diapers I received at my second 'home' in Australia. Now I know what you are thinking, but let me explain. My sister and I have had this weird mail thing happening, ever since we both moved out of our parents house (though I have moved back a few times). Her best mail prank to me was sending me a free sample of adult diapers to my University house. I died. Especially since it was done in the summer when my neighbours were collecting our mail for us. Now imagine my surprise when she found a way to send me a sample of adult diapers to my house in Australia. I am pretty sure I laughed so hard I cried. It seems silly to say 'it was thoughtful'. But I mean, it really was. I was still able to joke around with my sister from the other side of the world. Not to mention, my roommate Nicole and I somehow managed to convince our friend Nick to put the diapers on over his skinny jeans and let us take pictures. I won't humiliate him and post them, but they were pretty funny pictures.

In Thailand I did not receive much mail, and that was a bit hard. I remember being jealous when others received mail and/or packages, and I, none. My sister had sent me a package with art made by my niece, but I never received it. It broke my heart. But I did quite enjoy being the one to send mail. I sent postcards made by the app Postcard on the Run, where you can make postcards from your own pictures. I remember being so excited to send Ryan a package of random Thai things, as he had been to Thailand before. I threw in t-shirts that I had found for him, cheap sunnies, and random things. It's so fun to put together care packages for people and send them, even if it is not always cheap.

So imagine my surprise when I have only been at my new 'home' for a week, and I get a nice orange envelope in the mail. It's funny because even before I saw the return address written on the back, I knew who it would be from. Ryan's mum has always been the sweetest lady, and always has the perfect cards and such, for every occasion. I opened it up to find a paper skeleton to hang up for Halloween, signed from his parents. Such a simple thing to send, yet something that made my whole week. I have already hung it on the back of my bedroom door, as a reminder that someone thought enough of me to send me something.

First piece of mail in my new 'home'. Thanks Jimmy & Gail.

I am and always will be a huge advocate to sending real mail. Although I am thankful that there are other options. Emails are fantastic. Facebook posts are lovely. Being able to share my adventures on social media is quite remarkable when you think about it. But a quick letter in the mail, a card, a hand drawn picture; these things are priceless. And I am forever grateful to those who choose to take the time to send out anything. I plan to do the same, and write letters with my typewriter and send them to those I love. In fact, I am going to go out and buy some fun stationary today (here's hoping there is a store here that sells such thing).

narcissistic tendencies

I can be rather vain at times, yes Carly Simon this song is about me. I will admit it, vanity can get the best of me sometimes. Ask my parents how many times I have told them I am beautiful… yes you read that right, not how many times they have told me, how many times I have told them. Okay so I may not be as vain as that makes me seem, I mostly do it for a laugh, but I am aware that I am not unfortunate looking. I have been blessed with good genes, and some features that could be considered attractive, but I am not here to brag about being good looking. I will leave it at that. I wanted to preface this post with this, so you know what kind of person you are dealing with here. I am not narcissistic, just confident in myself.

This is the 'check out my drastically new hair' selfie.

Now that all being said, let's get to the point, I want to talk about selfies. I know it is a much discussed topic of conversation. Everyone has their opinion on it, and everyone has taken a selfie here or there, regardless their opinions on it. Starting out as something people did for their MySpace profiles, the self-portrait photograph was not referred to as a selfie until around 2005. Selfies only really gained popularity, in people outside of their teenage years, in the 2010s, being one of the top 10 buzzwords of 2012. I mean, there is a reason we have the front-facing cameras on our phones now. Everyone wants to take selfies. And there is nothing wrong with that.

'check out my blue hair' selfie

'check out my new dress' selfie

'John Legend concert with Chelsea' selfie

Now as for people's opinions, they vary person to person. Some people I have talked to believe that people take (and post) selfies because they are full of themselves, vain and/or narcissistic. While others have the opposite opinion, that the reason people post these selfies all the time is that they are insecure, in need of reassurance from others that they are hot/beautiful/sexy/etc. Personally, I think that both may be true, but not every person is taking (and posting) selfies for the same reason. The reason I post a selfie will differ from day to day. My day to day selfies are usually to just post about the new dress I bought (it's an obsession of mine) or if I changed my hair. Yeah sure, I want you to like it, but whether you like my picture of me in my new dress or not, I still like myself and my new dress. I think many people are the same as me, they want to take a selfie to show off something new, or they take it with a friend as a memory of being somewhere together. Gaining popularity is the celebrity selfie, who needs an autograph when you have picture of you and the celebrity taken on your phone? The thing I will agree with, that doesn't need to be done, is the exact same selfie, of your face, every day, the same way. That's when the selfie gets a bad rap. We know what you look like, yes we see you have very nice cleavage again. Fantastic for you. Please show me something more. Intrigue me with your selfie.

I call this the provincial selfie series.

The reason I have been thinking about this recently, is that for my solo journey across Canada, I bought what they call a selfie stick. I was laughed at a little when I did - thanks Vanessa - but I was not worried about that. I did not buy it to take selfies of me just at home in my room; I bought it because I was about to go on an adventure by myself and I am one who enjoys having pictures of myself at the places I visit. Call me vain, call me what you will, but landscape pictures don't always cut it for me. And to be honest, many times random other people don't cut it either. They mean well, when they offer to take a picture of you, or you and whoever you are with, but often times the picture is zoomed in on you without the background, aka the whole point of getting the picture taken. It often frustrates me. Which is why, I bought the selfie stick. And boy am I ever glad I did. I have ridiculous selfies of me all over Canada, hey I even had a fantastic photographer take a picture of me, taking a picture of myself with the selfie stick, at Lake Louise. That is pretty epic, in my opinion anyways.

Taken by the fabulous @candidcameraman at Lake Louise, Alberta

Now let's be honest, as vain as I may say I can be, taking picture of myself is often fairly awkward. How many pictures does one really take of themselves before they settle on one? I am sure most wouldn't want to admit the actual number. No one wants to take a bad selfie and post it for the world to see, we can all at least admit to that. But me, I am super awkward in life. Put me in front of a camera, and I am even moreso, just ask my exboyfriend the photographer; hard to be someone's muse when I can't even smile for the camera, or pose nicely. So my go to for pictures, is the peace sign. I can't help it. Ever since Thailand, it has become my thing. Don't know how to pose? Peace sign. Feeling rather silly taking a selfie? Throw up that peace sign. It's my security blanket for the photo world. I know many probably roll their eyes when they see 'yet another peace sign selfie', but alas, I can't help but chuckle every time I do it. How many selfies can one take across the world giving the peace sign? I will find out.

Peace signs in Jasper, Alberta.

Lake Louise peace sign selfie… it's my thing.

Moraine Lake, Alberta

An oldie from El Nido, Philippines, just in case you thought I was kidding about the peace sign.

Some may agree with the things I have said here, some may not. Both opinions are okay. To each their own. I am not saying you have to like my selfies, or even look at them. But I will continue to post them. I like selfies. They are fun, and I feel as though I am confident enough in my own skin, that how many likes/comments I get on my selfies does not determine my own self worth. And the moment that is does, is when I need to sign off from the social media world and reevaluate myself and my life. So I say keep up your selfies my friends, I love seeing your beautiful faces, especially when I am far away from them and missing them. And you can see my face any time I feel like subjecting the social media world to 'yet another selfie'.

I've learned that making a 'living' is not the same thing as 'making a life'

I know it may be a foreign concept to some, but work can actually make you happy. I know that being only one day back into teaching, that I am 'speaking too soon'. But I am really not. There was not one day teaching in Thailand that I questioned my love for my job. I loved it; every part of it. Even the mind numbingly boring parts. Even the parts that can be a bit frustrating. And my students, oh my students. I loved each and every one of them. The ones from my practice teaching in Australia, and especially my students in Thailand. Even the ones who can be a bit of a pain in the ass; hell sometimes those can be your favourites. For two years after returning from teaching in Thailand, I worked jobs that were just not as fulfilling to me. Sure, working with children at the Y before and after school care was still working with children in some way, but it wasn't the same. And as interesting as training men (some women, mostly men) how to drive forklifts and scissor-lifts can sound, the office work involved just didn't challenge me. And I am a person who needs a challenge to be interested in what I am doing.

one of my favourite pictures of my students and I in Australia, 2009

So here I am now, back to my passion, back to doing the only thing I have ever wanted to do. I should be over the moon, and in some ways I am. I had a huge smile on my face all day, while working one on one with students, being back in a classroom again. But at the same time it was hard for me, as independent and self assured as I may come off sometimes, it felt weird to have no one to share my happiness with. For the last almost four years whenever I was excited or happy about something, I have had one person in which I would text or call or tell, immediately. And it's a painful realization you come to when you go to text that person to tell them you are so excited because you have your first teaching day, and you know you shouldn't. You can't. As much as you want to, that person can't be your person anymore. No matter if you are friends or not. And really when I started to think about it, it wasn't so much having someone to share it with, it was who I was sharing with. I remember many times giving advice to friends after breakups saying 'you don't miss him, you just miss having someone'. And I thought maybe that's what this was, I just miss having someone to share it with. But I have people to share it with. I messaged my family and friends. I instagrammed it. I facebooked it. It wasn't the same. And that's okay. It's a process, so I am told. It doesn't just happen over night, that urge to message the guy you love, who you spent years sharing these things with.

It's funny how you can be fully aware of all these things, and it doesn't seem to matter. Your heart still hurts. You still need to go through the emotions. Deal with the pain. But at the same time, you can't let it overshadow the fact that you are in fact doing what you love to do. You are finally getting your life back on track to making yourself happy. And that is what I am doing here. That is why I came here. Because really when you think about how many hours a day we spend at our jobs, how many hours of our life, should we really be wasting it on jobs that are making us miserable, or unchallenging, jobs we aren't passionate about? I understand for some it's financial, bills to pay, no other options. I have been there, but that doesn't mean we should stop trying to get to that place. That place where we wake up every morning ready to start the day, because we love what do. We want to go to work, because it fulfils us.

My hope is that for the people I love that they are able to figure out what it is that makes them happy in their careers and they are able to find jobs in that field and be successful, in their own right. It may not happen right away, but if you want something bad enough, it will happen. I graduated from teacher's college 5 years ago next month, and I have left the country, and now the province. But I will never give up on the dream of having my own classroom someday, preferably a little closer to 'home'.

so I live here now...

Every time I have moved away from home (out of country, and now out of province), there is always that moment where it hits me… I live here now. Sure, it is always temporary, I haven't stayed put anywhere permanently, but it is still a startling realization that I now live far away from everything and everyone I know and love. It's a terrifying thought. Don't get me wrong, it is a rather exciting time as well, it's just not exactly easy to be on the other side of the country, or the world, from your loved ones.

Last night I spent the better part of my night looking through pictures of my nieces, and my family. I remembered how when I left for Thailand, Logan was a baby and I came home and she was a little person. They grow so fast. You leave home hoping that things will be the exact same when you return, but they never are. Things change, people change. Some things never will. My family has always been there for me, that will never change. Friends aren't as stable, but usually remain fairly unchanged. I know it can be hard on friendships when I up and leave whenever I chose to do so, but the friendships that are real, remain intact. And for that I am forever grateful.

So when does your new home feel like home? Is it when you have finally unpacked everything and put it in its proper place? Is it when you lived there for 'x' number of days, weeks, months? There is no exact timing for it, it usually just kind of happens without you even realizing it. And one day you will notice that it's felt like that for awhile, and you will feel a sense of peace knowing you are 'home'. I don't know when that will come this time, it certainly hasn't yet. I am almost done unpacking and I already miss my closet, and my bed, and my room.

Before I left, many people were commending me for my 'bravery' and 'courage', telling me I am so inspiring, that I can get up and just leave on my own and do what I need to do. I feel a bit like a phony, as if Holden Caulfield would call me out in a second if he ever met me. I am not that brave, or courageous. It has been the hardest thing imaginable to feel so lonely and decide to pick up and make myself even more alone, literally. But it was the only thing I could do. And I am doing it. I spent 8 days on my own, save for the moments I met new friends and visited a friend. It was the most incredible feeling in my life. When I left I was a phony, it was not strength that made me leave, but weakness. My inability to handle a life that I was no longer happy in. But the 8 days on my own have given me strength. I remembered how capable I am of being alone, and how much I actually enjoy my own company more than most. I could've driven on, I could've continued my journey around canada solo, and been quite content. But alas, I have made it to my destination, and now it is time to make this my 'home'… for now.

 Just arrived in Yukon.

My new home, the colours just fit me quite perfectly

no one likes a visit to the hospital

As I woke up this morning in pain, which had started the day I left for this journey, I knew it was time to give in and drag myself to the hospital. Before anyone gets worried, it wasn't a big deal, but walk-in clinics aren't open at 6am on a Sunday in Grande Prairie, Alberta. I won't go into details, no one wants those, I will just tell you that after a quick visit to emergency, with my Ontario Health Card in Alberta, I am on the road to recovery, as they say. It was a rather pleasant experience dealing with the differences between Alberta and Ontario health care; it made no difference. This minor detour in the morning, set my scheduled departure for my day of driving back and got my mind thinking back to other times I have had the pleasure of visiting hospitals during my travels.

I have been fortunate enough to not have any real horror stories from hospital visits on my travels. The worst I could even tell you would be that when my motor bike kick stand ripped out my toe nail and I showed up at the hospital, the place was empty and they stared at me for awhile before they did anything. I was advised to visit a hospital daily to re-bandage my toe, I chose to forgo to hospital visits and figure it out on my own. I was a bit too ambitious and sought help from the school nurse on occasion.

The worst thing about hospital visits is really just whatever it is that ails you, ends up inhibiting you from doing what you want to during your travels. The moment we left Brunei, back in 2012, I remember feeling like something was wrong in my belly. The rumblings in my stomach spoke of an illness sure to surface. By the time we got to the Philippines, I was  positive I was not well. Because of this mysterious illness, and my stubbornness on waiting until back in Thailand to get checked out, I did not feel comfortable getting on a boat, or doing many things. It wasn't until we got to Manila, Philippines, that it really hit me and I longed for a hospital bed. As soon as we arrived in Chiang Mai, I remember Ryan rushing me to the hospital. Once again, I will not to get into details about the exact cause of my illness, it was bad enough they hooked me up to an IV and wanted to keep me over night. As much as I trusted the health care system in Thailand, there was something about staying overnight in a Thai hospital that made me uneasy. So I accepted the IV for an hour, and we were on our way back to the hotel, with five different prescriptions that cost next to nothing. I am still baffled at the small cost of that hospital visit and medications, when other countries can charge so much.

But beyond even just the experiences had during those hospital visits, it's the feeling unwell in a hospital far away, that makes you long for home. You just want your mum to take care of you when you are not well. You want your own bed to curl into until you feel better. It's these moments that I feel home sick the most. I have only been on the road to my destination for a week, and I have had my first home sick moment. Every time I have been unwell, had an accident, or for whatever reason needed to see a doctor while I travel, without fail I tell my mother. I usually start the conversation with 'don't freak out but…' I remember such an email that was sent after I had my motor bike accident, and decided to forgo the hospital visit, check in with the school nurse, and teach from my desk chair all day.

Here's hoping it is the only hospital visit I need while on this new adventure in my life, but with my clumsiness, I am sure that is unlikely.

happiness is a journey, not a destination

It's been four days on my own. This isn't the longest I have traveled solo, but it has been an experience that has given me a lot of time to think. Alone in a car for so many hours a day, the mind will wander. I started to think about leaving home, and how hard it is every time to say goodbye to the people I love. How this is the third time I have left, and it hasn't gotten any easier. In fact, I think it has gotten harder.

The first time I left home for the other side of the world, I knew I would be home in 10 months from Australia. It was my first time traveling solo, and I remember feeling nervous, scared and excited. The excitement far outweighed the fear, as I knew I was going there for school and I had been planning this for years. I can remember being sad to leave my family and friends, but knew that this experience was about to change my life.

The second time I left home for Thailand, I was terrified. Not of what was there, but what I was leaving behind. I left a guy whom I wanted to be with, to move to Thailand to teach. I left the idea of us up in the air, with no sure way to know what would ever happen. It was scary, as I have never felt that way about another person before. I had never wanted to be with another person so badly, but I knew that I couldn't compromise my dreams for what if. And luckily for me, he wasn't the kind of guy to ever try to stop me. I spent four months missing him, but living my life and living in the most amazing country I have ever been to. I never thought a guy would ever travel across the world to be with me, but lo and behold, after four months without him, he flew to Thailand and we spent two months in Thailand and traveling.
For those who travel solo, and are of the solivagant type, you would understand how this changed everything. I was so used to doing things on my own, being on my own, it was then I learned what it meant to be a part of something more. It was rather lovely. It was then I realized that dreams can be rearranged to fit other people into them. I once dreamt of teaching in every continent. I had felt that would be a rather fantastic way to live life. Unfortunately I also have a dream to have my own classroom in Toronto. To do that, I need to focus on getting onto a school board there. Luckily for me, I found a person who wanted to travel just as much as I. I didn't need to compromise my dreams, but align them with reality. I could still see every continent, and have my own classroom. It would be rather brilliant.

This time leaving home, it was much harder. I struggled with the idea of leaving everything behind to get away from the end of a relationship, and a lack of happiness. It is hard to live day in and day out, not doing the thing that you love. For me, I needed to teach. I knew that after having my heart broken, the only thing I could do to make myself happy is run away, explore and teach. I have always thought of myself as a fairly strong person. Aside from the emotional side I am unable to hide, I have always been confident in who I am and who I want to be. I have never compromised myself for someone else. But this past year has been rather difficult for me. From broken friendships, to broken relationships, I have had to pick myself up off the ground and find a way to get back to being me, and being happy. So now I am on this journey, to find my happiness again. To do what I love. To focus on myself. I do not know what the future holds, but I have learned that the only person who can make you truly happy is yourself. Sometimes it just takes hitting an emotional rock bottom to get you to figure out how to get there. Happiness is a journey, not a destination, as they say.

On so my new journey begins...

don't talk to strangers

I think it's rather funny that even as adults we get told not to talk to strangers. My mother was very concerned when I told her my plans to travel across Canada in a car, on my own. She has every right to worry, but her requests for me to 'not talk to anyone' or put my chair against the door of my hotel room, were a bit much. I started to think about this whole 'not talk to strangers' request. How utterly lonely a trip that would be. Sure, I spent my first night of my travels at my Aunt Pat's and have talked on the phone to my parents a few times a day. But can you imagine a week without human interaction?

Perhaps it can be done, minus the few people you must talk to, such as hotel concierge or the gas station attendant. But why would you want to? This morning I met a lovely guy at breakfast in my hotel. The only seats open were at his table and I asked to sit. He struck up a conversation with me and made me realize how much I missed the interaction, and it had only been 24 hours without. I am a talker, always have been, always will be. And driving alone in a car all day, can be a lonely experience,  with no one to talk to. I haven't mastered the art of talking to myself, so I tend to just belt out the songs that come on, you know the ones, the ones that were made to be sung in your car as loud as you can. I have sang a lot of Robyn and Adele in those moments so far.

Back to the point, I really can't imagine not talking to someone while traveling. Almost six years ago, on my flight to Australia, I met a guy who was on his was to New Zealand. We chatted and hung out at the Chicago Airport after being on same flight from Toronto to Chicago and headed to the same flight from Chicago to LA. All I remember from that time was when he went to get himself food, he brought me fries. It was a lovely gesture from a new friend. Once we hit LA, we had to part ways, but have remained Facebook friends ever since. Without that chance meeting, without having talked to a stranger, I would never have met him. And in just over 24 hours, I will be meeting up with him in Calgary for him to show me around, a pit stop and day off of driving, along my travels.

These moments, these friends we make when we are alone, they make for good stories and sometimes even better future moments. It makes me sad that our first reaction should be to be cautious of people we don't know. Guilty until proven innocent would be the term I would use. It's a shame, we are keeping our stories of whatever journey we may be on, to ourselves, in fear they will use it to take advantage of us. Instead we should be sharing our story, using it to relate to each other; make new friends.

I have been fortunate enough to make friends in the many countries I have lived and/or visited. Right now I couldn't count the amount of countries/cities I have friends living in. Some of those friends I had no choice to meet, but chose to remain friends. Some of them I met through chance of being alone and striking up conversations. I will never stop talking to strangers - sorry mum! - because as they say 'a stranger is just a friend you haven't met yet'.