The Fox and the Turtle: August 2015

The Sheepish Pond

11:08 PM

After all the excitment of treking across Europe, we've settled down with our new hosts Elke and Rene in Austria. Three years ago, which is actually around the same time we moved to NY, they moved out to the countryside to live more sustainably and are totally rocking it. Their little farm includes a whole flock of turkeys, a coop full of chickens, three cows, two horses, two dogs and two little boys of their own, not to mention their ever expanding garden and the fruit trees dappling the yard. It's a lot of things going on but that means a lot of their meals are created from ingredients found right on their property. Which make for extra tasty meals, trust us.

Their setup has been continually impressive, but definitely a switch for us from eating peach loops and kicking back with the Wildsmith. Yes, we totally blame you Debbie for not working us harder and preparing us! So while we have generally kept to our NY bedtime of midnight, after all the chores and upkeep of the farm during the day I've been passing out earlier and ealier. I almost couldn't believe myself the other day when Skyping with my grandparents and I literally said "Oh, well it's almost nine so I'm going to head to bed soon!" and meant it.

So as our bodies settled into the work, we debated what to do for our upcoming day off. We wanted to be active but also wanted to relax, wanted a chance to venture outside the farm but not to have to go too far. Elke and Rene ended up coming up for the solution for us and offered us a pair of bikes to ride to their pond property only a few miles away. Thinking of how we hadn't used our swimsuits even once during the trip (Thanks for the summer weather, Scotland), we jumped at the chance and biked away that morning, unsure of what to expect.

After a bit of a false start where we got lost almost immediately (because what kind of trip would it be without it) we rode up and down the hilly countryside of east Austria to come upon a little pond oasis. While Elke and Rene share the property with another couple, we had the place to ourselves for most of the day and alternated between floating around on the inflatable boat and laying out in the sun. When she wasn't barking at the three sheep guarding the next pond over, Winry even jumped onto the boat with us and manned Zach manning the oars.

Not a bad start to our days off, though we feel this may only be the beginning of what we'll be able to experience while we're here.

To more sleepy, sunny days,

H W Z

A Room to Remember

8:01 AM

Last week we came again to another point in our trip where we had to make another big journey across Europe. Thankfully we were a bit more prepared this time and were able to trek from West Dorset in England to near St. Pölten in Austria without any major hassles and without spending major money. We broke it up into three days. First we took a four hour train into Brighton and stayed overnight in a hotel. The next day it was a mad dash (literally as we woke up late) to the train to Newhaven to catch our ferry over to Dieppe, then another two hour train to Paris for a second night in a hotel. The next day was our train from Paris to Stuttgart to St. Polten which had a few breaks in between but ultimately meant just under twelve hours of traveling.

When we travel like this, trains and hotels back to back, we don't usually have many stories to share with you all. Checking in and out of hotel rooms can only be so interesting. Especially since we're traveling on a budget. No seafront, ocean views for us unfortunately. But sometimes there can be fun stories, especially because we're not staying in swanky hotels. Let me tell you the story of the worst hotel room in Paris.

Zach and I aren't against hotels, though we much rather prefer our time spent staying with our hosts, but we just never feel fully comfortable there. It might be partly because we can't really unpack our belongings for a one night stay or that we always seem to get stuck with windows that won't open, but really we just like the personality that comes from staying in a home versus what is essentially a short stay apartment complex. Still we've accepted this necessary evil of hotel stays and genuinely don't expect much from our times spent there, especially since we never pay much for the rooms. Throughout our trip we've maybe stayed in around 10-15 hotel rooms and they have been just fine for us, but there always needs to be one bad apple right?

I should have guessed when we started walking to the hotel that things were going to be weird that night. The hotel was in a prime location for us, right near the metro so when we arrived in Paris we wouldn't have to go far and delightfully near the Gare de L'est where we would get our train at 7:25 am the next morning. Being close to your train locations have been key in our travel experience. You don't want to chance your expensive train ticket on the local metro being on time. But the hotels neighborhood felt like Times Square if you removed all the lights and multiplied the people trying to sell you tickets to a comedy show. Except half of these guys weren't selling anything and were just hanging around. A little odd to see such a busy street corner, one so busy I had to pick up Winry so she wouldn't be stepped on, especially when we walked up a street to our hotel and it was dead silent.

So we walk into the hotel to check-in and start what turns out to be a 25 minute process. The guy managing the front desk is thoroughly confused by Winry and demanded to know if we alerted them we'd be bringing a dog. I lied, saying yes of course I did, and he didn't challenge me but spent a long time squinting at our reservation on the computer. After paying the pet and city tax we were finally permitted to head up to our room on the fourth floor. Here was where we found what we paid $49 for: the first hotel room that was actually smaller than our Brooklyn apartment! We had one sink, one dresser, and one queen bed all within a few cozy inches of each other.

"Well this is fine," I said "all we really need is a bed. I'm going to try and find the bathroom." Since there was no other door inside our room, my only guess was that it was at least on our floor. I studied all the doors with the numbers scratched into them, then the only door without one, then the floor map on the wall. It seemed that the missing number door was the proposed bathroom, but had no handle to open the door. Searching the flight below us, I found a completely new wall in the space where our floors bathroom had been and finally found relief in the floor above us. This bathroom was unfortunately a let down for Zach, as it only had a toilet. No room for a shower there.

We had a spot to lay our heads and successfully found the bathroom, so feeling generally accomplished we met up with Zach's friend Drew (who serendipitously had been visiting Paris for a few days) and handed off our room key to the new front desk guy. After dinner and drinks, we bopped back to the room and quickly passed out, tired from the long day of travel. I could have slept the whole night through if I hadn't been awoken around midnight to the sound of dozens of footsteps on the stairs, on our floor, seemingly everywhere. Our little room, which was located right next to the staircase and probably lacked any real insulation, had no chance in keeping the noise out and I lay awake listening to the parade for the next hour. I could only imagine it was tourists like Zach and I who had chosen this cheap hotel to save money for their own drinks, who were now stampeding to their own little rooms to pass out. At least, I like to think that someone had just drunkenly tried to open our door in the night thinking it was theirs and not for some other reason. Thankfully Winry was all over it. The second their hand tried to turned that locked handle, Winry was barking and growling like she was ten times her size. It was the only time we've ever had that problem and it gave me another reason to be thankful she was along.

We made it through the rest of the night and groggily walked to the train the next morning, unfortunately unable to officially check-out because no one was at the front desk at 7am. We found our train without incident, settled in our seats and all three of us promptly fell asleep for the next two hours. it was when we woke up, halfway through the trip, that we started to notice a few ants crawling over us. After picking off a fourth ant off my sweater I turned to Zach to find out he was already on his sixth, though some had been on Winry. I thought back to the room and didn't remember seeing any ants but we had left all of our stuff on the floor last night. I thought the few ants might just be a fluke until we finally came to our stop in Germany and we gathered our stuff. I stood up to grab my little backpack where it had been balancing above me to find it had come alive during the ride. The whole of it was absolutely covered in ants. Hoping no one had noticed, I grabbed the bag and practically ran off the train to the other side of the platform and started swatting them off as best I could. Zach had followed quickly behind and we did a thorough sweep of all our belongings, knocking off as many ants as we could find. I've gotten a lot better at being squeamish around insects, I even like spiders now because they serve a purpose, but those ants were just not where they were supposed to be. Not cool ants.

Thankfully the ants were the last of what that hotel had to offer us and we're back to staying in a real home. Maybe when we get back to the U.S. and start getting income we can spring for more fancy hotels, minus the ants and separate bathrooms, but even then we'll always have Paris.

H W Z

Old Bidlake Farm

4:54 AM

The Edge of the World

8:10 AM

Saturday found us on the train heading to our next host, a cute little camping site in West Dorset. After the tearful goodbye with the Wildsmiths, I was too wrapped up in all the memories to start my routine of worrying how we'd fit in at the next place. But thankfully there was no need, as there usually isn't, because we were once again welcomed in so warmly and kindly by our new hosts Sue, Nick and their son Joe. They showed us around their smallholding, a glamping site they've named Old Bidlake farm. The surrounding countryside is just astounding beautiful and nestled in the middle of it all was our space for the next week, a retro 70's caravan. Needless to say, I was beyond thrilled.

So as we've taken to doing, we settled into our new spot, unpacked a few things and started bonding with our new hosts. Nick and Sue are very adamant about getting us out into the countryside to see the sights, so on Tuesday we took them up on their offer and decided to bike down to the coast. The journey wasn't far but the beautiful countryside hills and both Zach and I being a bit unfit from four weeks of sweets meant we spent a fair amount of time walking our bikes as well as riding them. After some huffing and puffing, we made it to Bridport.

This was where the real journey started. After realizing we could restock some essentials and picking up Zach a sweet new knife, we set out to find the beach. Sue had brought us through Bridport and to the beach just a few days before, so we were confident that we'd be able to find our way there ourselves. So we picked out a direction and started walking but no matter which way we went, I started to get a sinking feeling that we just weren't quite going the right way. Four sinking feelings later, we finally stumbled upon a map showing that the actual coast was still quite a ways from Bridport. Somehow we had clipped that extra little drive from our mind. A little more biking and we were there in West Bay, sitting on a beach nestled between two sets of cliffs. It had been sprinkling on and off all day, but that didn't stop us from climbing up one side of the cliffs to look out to sea, seemingly standing at edge of the world itself.

Zach took pictures and I watched all the people below, tourists, like us, running about in the sand and playing in the water. I know it might seem ridiculous, but there are times that I forget that we're traveling. Maybe it's because we're volunteering along the way so we have some steadiness of work but after this long, our life feels normal now and I forget that we're on this big adventure. It takes watching some tourists to remind me that we are tourists. We're explorers. Adventurers. And once again I'm thankful for all the people we've met and all the people back home who gave us a place to sleep, some encouragement and just plain believed in us.

Thank you all. Sorry we keep getting lost.

H W Z

The Wildsmiths

1:57 PM

We could write so much about Max, Coco and Pabs but two of the four weeks of our stay we were lucky to learn more about the human half of the Wildsmith family. We've talked before about how sweet they were for taking us in when we needed it most and these two weeks truly cemented their kindheartedness. We were again right there in the fold, feeling just like family. Hours were spent playing Rocket League with Alex, cooking and chopping our way to a delicious dinner with Debbie, trying and failing to drive anywhere near as well as Gary at Mario Kart, and laughing so hard over Ross' deadpan humor. Every day we were able to spend time learning about, connecting with, and ultimately just loving our time with this crazy, hilarious, endearing family.

After proving ourselves watching after their menagerie of dogs, chickens, quail and birds and not burning the house down, they trusted us enough to let us make them fish tacos and feed them some very American dishes like pudding and macaroni and cheese. It was in this way, bonding over food and sharing little bits of culture back and forth that we started finding ourselves staying long after the food had gone to laugh and share and tell tall tales. It might be the hours that makes a friendship or the gradual familiarity, but sometimes it's just there from the start.

We know we've met so many friends on this trip, people we're bound to see again. Even before the Wildsmiths had returned from their holiday in Greece I started getting the same feeling of dread that we would have to leave them, as I had before all the others. But as we got closer to the day we'd leave, the feeling started to lift. Not because I wouldn't cry when the time came to finally part at the train station (because I definitely did), but because I know somewhere in me that we will see them again. It might not be soon, but I know it will happen*.

Because when we finally had to part, it wasn't a goodbye. It was a 'See you later'. Not a promise, just a fact.

H W Z

*Debbie did talk about taking a trip to Las Vegas, so fingers-crossed that's our opportunity. Vegas baby!