Change of Address

One of the best trips eva..

It's been three lively and long years since I decided to start writing Of A Long Book. My life has changed immeasurably and it's pretty entertaining to go back and read my first few blog posts. I was still a mere child, working for my congressman and blissfully ignorant of all that life could be if only I took a few chances. It's been an emotional ride, a four-wheeler-on-sand-dunes kind of ride, and some of the happiest and saddest moments of my life. I've climbed a mountain, spent a couple summers in Paris, got to know some amazing chicos in Nicaragua, and published stories in a local magazine. But beyond that, I've learned how to be bold, to follow my gut even though it may have been easier to not. I have a lot more to learn, I know, but I feel so much more sure of myself than I did back in 2013 when I quit my job. I now know that "unexpected" does not have to mean "scary."

I've also had a chance to nourish some of the most important relationships in my world. Though I don't live in DC anymore, I feel closer to my DC friends and am so thankful that no matter how much time passes, we never have trouble picking up where we left off. I've grown real and adult relationships with my high school friends, and I've had the chance to FINALLY live in the same town as them. I've found new friendships in Nicaragua, England, Paris, and all over. My brothers and I have found our groove, and I no longer feel like they're there just because they are. And, of course, I've gotten to know my parents not as my parents, but as buddies, and they have gotten to know the grown-up (sort of) me. Words could never express how thankful I am for their generosity and kindness: for letting me live at home when I clearly had no idea what I was doing. I will always be grateful for their love, and I appreciate them on a deeper level than I think I even realize.

While it has been great, I do feel it is time to move on. So I'm off to London today and am excited to see what will come next. But this isn't goodbye! To keep up with people and to let my mom know that I'm still alive, I've started a new blog! Check it out to see what I'm doing over in Londres, the things I eat and drink and read and write. If you come visit I promise I'll write about you.

And of course, thank you for following this blog and allowing me to vent, explore, and share the things that I love. Readers are the Thing, and I couldn't be happier to have gone on this journey with you. So, thanks.

Keep Austin Awesome

Sunday, I decided to make a quick trip down to the Texas Capital. I haven't really spent much time in Austin, but I've always had a good time anytime I'd been and felt like a jolt of "Texas" before my year abroad. I arrived Sunday and had drinks with my friend Caroline, who ended up being my hostess for the next two days. We had some rose and then headed out to dinner at Z Tejas, a delicious tex-mex place on 6th Street.

On Monday I walked down to Cafe Medici for coffee and some time lost in my current book.

Then I headed out to Mecca, aka BookPeople. The famous book store in Austin has some great events, and though I only browsed their shelves and picked out some titles that I want to read, I could have spent all day in there. I love getting lost in titles and book descriptions, and I only left because it was lunch time and mama was getting hungry. I decided to go to the Whole Foods, which I hadn't been to before and since we know how much I love grocery stores, I was so excited to shop around. Well, I ascended the escalator and didn't even know where to look. There was a very intense cheese section, specialty items from all over the world, a huge nut and trail mix bar, BBQ stand, sushi section and lots of things that I wanted to put in my mouth right away. I thought I would grab some food from their main little pre-made section, but I was extremely overwhelmed. I kept going back and forth trying to decide what I wanted. But it's kind of difficult to listen to your stomach when half of Austin is very assertively walking with purpose to the sandwich station and salad bar while hurrying to get back to the office. I approached the counter with sandwiches, pastas, meat and fish, and told the guy that I was a little overwhelmed. He looked at me very sympathetically and said, "yeah, there's a lot of stuff here." You can say that again.

Though I was kind of enjoying the chaos that is Whole Foods at lunchtime, I wasn't feeling any of it. I bought some delicious-looking hummus, salsa and thai-seasoned cashews and headed to my car. I'm sure when I go again it won't be so ominous and scary, but at the time I felt like Jon Snow about the climb the Wall with no Ygrette there to help me out. I ate a handfull of cashews in the car and felt better. Cashews make everything better.

Moving on. I drove around downtown for a bit and decided to go to lunch at 24 Diner on Lamar. I sidled up to the bar and had an amazing turkey burger and a glass of rose. One thing I've learned throughout all my solo travel is to always eat at the bar. You meet people, get to know the bar tenders, and it's really not as awkward as you'd think. I had time to catch my breath and meet some strangers just passing through.

Later, I met Caroline for dinner at Odd Duck and had a great meal of little bites before we headed to a pub quiz with some of her coworkers/friends. I did lots of pub quizzes in Nicaragua and was happy to be back at it, even though this one was really hard and I only knew a few of the answers. Regardless, it felt like the perfect Austin night: a foodie dinner followed by fun bar activities.

One of our dishes: a twice baked potato with braised goat, cheddar fondue and green tomato.

Caroline decided to take the next day off and we went to the Barton Springs pool. A spring-fed pool within the city limits, Barton Springs is the perfect place to go when temps are in the low 100s. We swam in the cold water, people watched on the grassy knolls, and caught up on life.

Pretty

So pretty.

As we were driving back into town to change and get BBQ, Caroline suddenly shouted, "Jennabeth! How do you feel about snow cones??" I hadn't had one in ages and didn't exactly know how I felt about them. But she swore that they were a good idea on that hot day, so we pulled into Sno-Beach for some refreshment. Plus, desserts before meals are always a good idea. There's a reason snow cones are a typical American treat. They were so cold and good after our swim and I relished the throwback to childhood. Except for when a bee thought my snow cone was a flower and was really trying his darnest to pollinate it. I screamed "BEE!!" to the amusement of some passersby. I'm turning red just thinking about the embarrassment...

It's all smiles until a bee decides to RUIN YOU.

After a delicious BBQ lunch, we said our goodbyes and Caroline dropped me off at the condo. Driving the long drive home last night, I knew it wouldn't be my last time in weird ol' Austin.

Destin-ation Wedding

I'm no expert, but I think Destin may be Florida's finest beach.

I am a little biased though because I just spent a fantastic weekend on its sugar-white beaches for my cousin's wedding. I always love spending time with family, but this felt different somehow. Maybe because destination weddings are meant to be closer-knit and more personal. So our already tight family seemed even more connected as we wished the best for my cousin and his new bride. The weekend involved lots of sitting around on the beach, a night or two out at some Destin bars, food, wine, and fellowship. I even got to play a round of golf with my mom and two aunts.

A little closest-to-the-pin action.

Rehearsal dinner at Tommy Bahamas.

It rained right before the ceremony and then that rainbow came out. I couldn't even make this up.

These moments with family seem more poignant to me since I know I'll be moving soon. Everything this summer is special: lunch with friends, nights out in Abilene, trips across Texas. Though I'm very excited to go to London, I'm also focused on relishing the next few months and being thankful for what I have. This weekend in Destin was a good place to start practicing that credo.

You sound like you're from London!

I think I've wanted to move to London since I read Pride and Prejudice sophomore year of high school. In college I bought a book called Living and Working in London that I meant to give to a family I knew that was moving there, but I never had the chance to give it to them. Or maybe I didn't want to part with it. Either way, it's been sitting on my bookshelf ever since.

So this announcement has been a long time coming: I'm moving to London in the fall to pursue a creative writing masters at Westminster University. Serendipitously, in the course of the past few years I've managed to shore up a decent number of friends who live in London, other places in England and across Europe. They're some of the nicest, most fun human adults I've ever met, and I'm excited to be able to see them more frequently. I'm also ecstatic to be working on my writing, with other like-minded people, in one of the most beautiful and exciting cities in the world. Is this real life?!?!

When I think about walking down those London streets, the cool air kissing my cheeks and the gray skies making everything around me glow in pale light, I wish I could go tomorrow. But I know a lot of things must happen before I can board a plane for Heathrow. I have to get a visa; I'm going to two bachelorette parties where I have to reluctantly say goodbye to the best friends a girl can have (even though I hope they will all come visit me). I have to pack, though I don't even want to think about the massive bag that I will lug around... I have to find housing; I have to keep writing; I have to mentally prepare for hearing all those accents all the time. It may be months away, but the planning starts now.

I'm not sure what the fate of Of A Long Book will be once I move across the pond. This move feels like such a large shift in my life, and I don't know if this blog will continue to fit the circumstances in which I find myself. I don't want to stop writing about my experiences, but maybe with an appropriate change to the way I present them to you, my dear readers. While I explore every opportunity I'll keep you informed. And if I do transition to another online location, I truly hope you'll follow along.

In the Ice Bar the last time I was there with some besties!

There's absolutely no reason to go to Southern California.

Seriously, the Coachella Valley is disgusting. 

Look at this gross view of green, green grass and mountains in the background.

There's nothing to do or see and I can't understand why people live there. 

The Palm Springs Modern Art Museum had absolutely nothing exciting in it. (My dad's face says it all.)

And this Liza Minnelli impersonator at a drag bar was so boring.

And this musician played nothing good or moving in the middle of a street fair.

You'll only be disappointed by the thousands of unique restaurants, El Paseo shopping center, golf courses and tennis courts for miles, hiking paths and downtown centers, museums in Palm Springs and more spas than you could ever visit in a lifetime. So really, don't ever visit.

The golf courses are just okay.

The food is never delicious.

Ugly bunnies live on golf courses, completely ruining your game.

After last week, I never want to go back.**

**Except that I do, like, now. 

Five Things

Seeing Mombacho Volcano on the drive back from Ometepe.

I had the weirdest dream last night. I dreamt that I went to Nicaragua for three months and made all these new friends from all over the world and had a great time. The internet was terrible and it was really hot, but we drank cold beer, smoothies, and icy Nica libres. My house was filled with lots of vegetarians, and no one ever knew the time. I sometimes felt like my mosquito net would strangle me. I met these adorable Nicaraguan kids and hoped that I could help them in some small way. 

Then I woke up, and it wasn't a dream. Now I'm back in Abilene feeling so grateful for the last three months, and wondering what it is that I'll do next.

Here are five things that made me happy during my last few days in Granada.

My name in Russian. Thanks Beth!

Refrigerator art.

A quiet, slow morning in Casa Libertad.

The most amazing chocolate banana pancakes from Garden Cafe. What a great last meal in Nicaragua! 

Questionable Biking Skills on Ometepe

Watching from the ferry, I was already impressed with the island of Ometepe as it got closer and closer. A large island made of up of two volcanoes, Concepcion and Maderas, Ometepe is in the southern part of Lake Nicaragua and just a half-day's journey from Granada. It's become a tourist destination not only for travelers, but also for Nicaraguans who want some beach time away from Managua or Leon or Granada.

Cristina and I arrived late afternoon last Thursday, and were looking forward to seeing the beautiful island and relaxing by the water. After the ferry docked, we took a tuc-tuc to our hostel, Finca Magdalena, almost on the other side of the island. That night, we ate a very typical Nicaraguan meal at the hostel and shared a liter of Tona. Cristina was climbing the Maderas volcano the next morning, so it was an early and quiet night.

La lancha, or small ferry, across.

The two volcanoes of Ometepe.

The next day, I had a leisurely breakfast at the hostel and began to make my way to Ojo de Agua about 10am. Ojo de Agua is a natural spring in the middle of the island that they've made into a swimming pool-like attraction. Our plan was to meet up there that afternoon. I began to walk over toward Ojo de Agua and quickly realized that it was a hella far way away. I though I'd better rent a scooter or bike or something or else I'd never get there.

While I was thinking about that, I noticed the best view of Concepcion in the distance. Stopping to take a picture, I heard a motorcycle slow behind me. A man stopped and asked in Spanish if I wanted a ride somewhere. I told him I was looking for a place to rent bikes or scooters, and if he knew of one. He said he did and to hop on. I reluctantly got on, knowing that if I started to feel unsafe I could just jump off the scooter. We drove for about 5 minutes before passing a place, and since his questions started to feel a little personal and probing, I yelled "Aqui!!" and he stopped. I jumped off and threw a quick "gracias" in his direction, and began to look for the owner of the bike rental shop. Honestly, he was probably just a friendly guy giving me a ride on his island, but as a woman traveling alone one can never be too sure. I could write a whole blog post about that topic alone, so that's all I'll say for now.

These pretty, friendly birds were everywhere.

The view of Concepcion, right before the guy on the bike stopped.

A few minutes later, pedaling down the road on my pink and silver bike, I was the envy of my 10-year-old self on such a beautiful mode of transportation. The breeze refreshed my whole body, and it felt good to use some muscles that have been practically dormant for the past couple months. Then I decided to change the gears on my bike and everything went wrong. I heard the awful grinding and twisting of metal, and my right pedal stuck. It wouldn't make a revolution and I was too scared to break it even more if I forced it. I got off to see what the problem was, which I realize now is completely futile because I know next to nothing about bikes.

I looked up at a friendly-faced security guard a few yards away, hoping that he could help. He could, and after a few minutes he had the chain untangled and the bike working again. I offered him my towel to clean his oil-covered hands, but he refused, saying that they were too dirty. As he went to find his own towel, I noticed the nice, grand-looking hotel that he was meant to be guarding. With sweat soaking through my dress, it was time for a rest. I parked my bike and went in to the restaurant for lunch and a cappuccino. Checking my map, I found I was only about half-way to Ojo de Agua and it was already after midday. Too far for me to bike in one day (except for this one time last year). I decided to stay at the hotel's beachfront that afternoon and told Cristina to meet me there. So we relaxed by the beach the rest of the afternoon and would hit Ojo de Agua the next morning.

Finally relaxing at the beach.

At one point, I looked over and saw this herd of cattle drinking from the lake! I forgot that it is freshwater and they can do that without dying.

We rode back to the hostel on my bike in total Nica style with Cristina pedaling and me sitting side-saddle on the bar in front of her. Some of our friends from Esperanza had arrived at our hostel that afternoon, and we spent the evening playing cards on the deck and eating a delicious dinner while the sun set behind the volcano.

I mean.

We did go--by cab--to Ojo de Agua the next day before heading back to Granada. It was hot (what else is new?), so I swam in the cold, refreshing water as long as I could, and read on the side for the rest of it. Though we had to get back that night, I would have happily spent another day on the beach with my toes in the lake, or on a porch somewhere watching the sun set.

Ojo de tourists.

Cristina sneakily took this of me lounging in the water. I clearly didn't want to go.

Volcano Boarding, and other mini-adventures, in Leon

After my last day at school and a fun weekend in Granada with all of my favorite things (friends, good food via barbecue, drinks, and some dancing), I decided to go to Leon for a few days. My volunteer days were over, and I was looking forward to a free week to just travel and get to know more of Nicaragua.

The second largest city in Nicaragua, Leon is kind of a tourist trap like Granada but with a completely different flavor. There is no main tourist strip like the Calzada in Granada, but there is a distinct culture, a discreet feel to it unlike any other Nicaraguan city. It was a key location during the revolution and civil war in the late 70s, and you can still feel that heat, both literally and figuratively, bubbling just below the surface.

The first afternoon there, I booked volcano boarding at Cerro Negro with Bigfoot Hostel. That sentence probably makes no sense to those who haven't been here or heard of it. Cerro Negro is a volcano about an hour out of Leon and is one of the most active in the country. Its sides are covered in volcanic ash and rock, which makes it ideal to slide down on a wooden board with a panel of formica on the bottom. At least that's what someone thought a few decades ago. Now it's become one of the most sought after experiences for adrenaline junkies. CNN named it number two on its list of fun but terrifying experiences. I knew I was in for a good/maybe scary time.

The hike up the mountain was tiring, and I wasn't even carrying my board like most people. There was an option to pay $5 for one of the guides to carry it; it was the best money I spent all day. There are two craters at the top of Cerro Negro, and our group admired them while waiting for another tour group to go ahead of us. The tour guide, Ashley, asked us to follow her over to the other crater where she was going to show us an "experiment." On the trip there, she asked if anyone had, by chance, brought any butter. Of course no one had and I wondered what it was for. When we got to the edge of the second crater, she told us to dig our shoes a little bit to feel the heat of the volcano underneath the ground. Then she dug with her own shoe and pulled out a small potato from the ground. Apparently the day before, she'd buried a potato there to see if it would bake. The inside was a little dark and burned, but still cooked through. I felt the heat from the ground one more time, and thought about sliding down the side of this mountain in just a few minutes. If it could burn a potato, what could it do to me while sliding down at 20 or 25 mph??

The second crater at the top.

How to really bake a potato.

We suited up in our orange onesies, and I waited for the majority of people to go. They disappeared over the ridge, the mountain too steep to watch them descend (thank you, Will, for help with this wording). Eventually, it was my turn to sit on the hard board and wait. The guide motioned for me to go, and began shuffling my feet. The slope became steeper and soon I was moving my legs to try to keep straight. Ashley told us to never put our feet on the board, but always on either side of the board on the surface of the volcano. We could steer with our feet, but I found it difficult. It veered right and left, and I barely had time to register which leg to move to steer. I picked up speed and sand and rocks flew at my face and in my mouth. Thank goodness for goggles.

My suit was a bit big.

Trying my very best not to crash.

Getting into it by now, despite the look on my face.

After about 30 seconds, I could see the group waiting below. This was the steepest part, the last 100 meters. I tried to be as sleek as possible while also trying to avoid crashing. The wind rushed past me, and I watched the people get closer and I got faster. Then it felt too fast. I worried I would crash into someone, but at that point I really couldn't do anything about it. So I embraced it. I enjoyed the last few meters, feeling the wind rush through my hair and the heat of the volcano below me as I sped down toward the crowd.

The ground leveled off, and I stopped a few feet away from the group. Glee rushed through me. It was over, and it was amazing.

I had gone 55 kph (35 mph). When the guy told me my speed, he added, "muy rapido, chica." I could only smile. The fastest girl went 64 kph. On the trip back, Bigfoot gave us a warm cookie and a cold beer. The adrenaline rush was over, and everyone was more chatty, relaxed and loose from the beer and the morning's excitement.

Back at the hostel that afternoon, I met the family of some friends that lives in Leon, and spent a pleasant few days with this very sweet and hospitable family exploring their beautiful city. I visited the cathedral, the Ruben Dario museum, went to a KaraoKanta bar, ate some of the best fried chicken at a very local restaurant, and since they didn't speak any English, I practiced a lot of Spanish.

Gorgeous cathedral rooftop.

View of Parque Central from the Cathedral.

Cathedral.

Our tour guide explaining some Nicaraguan legends and traditions.

Traditional "gigantona" statue.

I left Leon on Wednesday, but not before lots of hugs and gifts and promises to give their love to my family. Climbing into the hot and crowded bus back to Managua, I felt hungry, and the only thing I could think of was a volcano-baked potato.