LLWorldTour

During my travels, as I’ve mentioned before, the best, most important part has been meeting new people—locals and other travelers and learning a lot about the world from other’s perspectives and this ‘community’ of nomads we are all a part of. I’ve recently discovered a great hospitality website called couchsurfing.com. Actually I probably read about it a year ago, but had been hesitant to really do it and now I wish I had sooner. It is basically a ‘community’ of like-minded travelers and other folks interested in meeting and exchanging ideas with people from all over the world. Basically you can sign up (for free) as a traveler like I did, or as a host–someone with a couch (or bed) that someone visiting your hometown can crash on. Each person has a profile and is reviewed by other users so you know you will be meeting someone you can trust and that has some things in common. Membership is free and is obtained simply by registering on the website. As a surfer (guest), you can search for and request accommodation at your destination. Accommodation is entirely consensual between the host and surfer, and the duration, nature, and terms of the surfer’s stay are generally worked out in advance to the convenience of both parties. It is SO global–there are ‘surfers’ in nearly every country around the world—you can find a couch to stay on in places like Iran or Antarctica or Fiji or Pittsburgh. Every time I go on the website, I find myself getting sucked in to wanting to go to other places I haven’t been yet—and this makes it SO easy and SO affordable. And not only can you search for hosts in a certain city, you can also ‘see’ what other travelers are near you and meet them if you want. If you haven’t heard of it yet, you will start to hear a lot more about it now, I promise. There are already a few documentaries in the works on couch surfing and some are surfing around the world and writing about it. I had to include this link from a guy surfing the world who stopped in Chicago and loved it—of course he would! Too bad I didn’t think of that first. You can read the NY Times Article here.

Hospitality networks — communities set up to enable travelers to share the home of a foreign host — are nothing new. Launched in 1949, the United Nations-recognized Servas had the lofty aim of realizing Gandhi’s maxim: “The best way to find yourself is to lose yourself in the service of others.” But Servas requires a lengthy registration process, membership fee and minimum four-week notice period of a home stay. I looked into it (after a big recommendation from my new Aussie Pals Mark and Jan), but this was something I was just not able to really do since I was already on the road.

Later, networks like the Hospitality Club, which now has 250,000 members in 207 countries, found a happy home on the web. This site and others were largely used by backpackers and gap-year travelers, who were attracted by the dual benefits of saving precious cash and “living like the locals”.

But it was in 2004, with the launch of The CouchSurfing Project, that a new verb was coined and a real mainstream travel trend born. Couchsurfing.com was the brainchild of Casey Fenton, an American web consultant who, after buying a bargain flight to Iceland, realized that he had no interest in spending his hard-earned greenbacks on “rotting in a hotel all weekend playing Mr. Tourist”. A child of the internet age, Fenton came up with the idea of using the random networking potential of the web to spam a couple of thousand Reykjavik students, asking whether they’d put him up on their sofas and show him around their home city. The same year, he launched the CouchSurfing Project. The website broadened its focus to online chat and a shared passion for travel, and with several thousand recruits joining the project’s 350,000 registered users each week, Couchsurfing.com is now an undisputed phenomenon.

Some more fun statistics right off their website:

• CouchSurfers…..352,942
• Successful Surf or Host Experiences…..262,528
• Friendships Created…..317,932
• Positive Experiences…..474,689
• Countries Represented…..223
• Cities Represented…..32,972

I actually just started using it in Spain and it’s really quite amazing. In Valencia, I met Clara, originally from Argentina, for dinner. (You can also just meet someone local for a drink or dinner—it’s not always necessarily to stay at their house or apartment). Then when I got to Madrid, another couchsurfer, Alex, invited me to join him at a Spanish cooking class he organized for foreign students who are studying in Spain. The class was naturally in Spanish and we learned how to make tortilla Espanola (Spanish omelet), a type of paella, and some dessert.

After showing me around Madrid a bit—from the beautiful squares to the very green Retiro Park (where at least 3 dealers offered us marijuana as we strolled through the park), Alex took me on sort of a tapas crawl where we ate and drank at a bunch of his favorite bars around the city. He even got me to try orejas (pig ears) which I have to say were crunchy, ‘bacony,’ and besides being super greasy, were quite tasty. We ended up drinking free beers at nightclubs that were trying to lure people in to fill up their dance floor. It was so fun to be with a local who already felt like a friend. Alex is a sweet guy who has already hosted dozens of folks at his home. He even keeps a guest book to prove it! He runs quite the little hotel right in his own apartment.

I ended up crashing at Alex’s place a week later and it honestly felt like I was staying at a friend’s house…not a stranger. I had my own room—so technically I wasn’t even ‘couch’ surfing—I had my very own bed. It seems that if you are part of couch surfing—you are happy to host people and make them feel at home…and this is exactly what Alex did.

Next I met Nathalie, a cute French gal who’s been living in Madrid with her husband. She invited me to a ‘couch surfing’ picnic at Retiro Park where I met even more CSers. It’s a never ending chain of new friends (and on the site there is even a “six degrees” chain showing you how each person knows someone else you ‘surfed’ with) and something I can’t get enough of now that I’ve gotten into it.

I’ve also just met, Piotr, a Swede living on the Mediterranean in southern Spain. I hung out with him and his friends for three days in Nerja. He, like me, gave up everything and moved here to simply ‘hang out’ and enjoy life for awhile. Sweet.

On my whole trip—I’m constantly meeting new people and have mentioned before how I rarely feel alone, but of course there are places I’ve been to where I just didn’t really get to know anyone. Well, now, thanks to Couch Surfing…there is really no city I can go to and not have instant ‘friends.’ It’s really an amazing thing and for solo travelers like me…it really truly means that I will never have to be alone if I don’t want to be. It’s always the goal of a good traveler to meet the locals and really see what ‘real life’ is like for them. There is no better way to do this than by staying in their homes. And this is something that sometimes was hard to achieve—not anymore. Now, locals (from Namibia to Venezuela and the Ukraine to Uzbekistan) are just a click away—waiting to meet you. I think their motto says it all: “Participate in Creating a Better World, One Couch at a Time.”

Here are some great testimonials from the site:

“I have met and stayed with some incredible people through CouchSurfing.com These are warm, friendly local people who a regular tourist would never meet, and their travel experience would be far richer if they had. Besides the obvious benefit of not having to pay for accommodation, CouchSurfing allows travellers to experience a country and its culture from within, instead of just as an observer. Inevitably, a CouchSurfing host will introduce you to his or her friends, and take you to the places that they enjoy. Basically, you can become part of their life for the time you’re visiting. I promise your life will be richer through your membership to CouchSurfing.”

“CouchSurfing has changed my life even though I have only known it for 4 months! The connections I have made, with some of the greatest people I have ever been able to encounter, along with the sense of being connected to the entire world just excites me. I feel like I am making a difference in the world supporting this site/community and informing others like me about the greatness that is occurring! I cannot wait to meet more of you beautiful people. Cause we don’t know each other, but we love each other.”

“… when you sign up you make thousands of friends you never knew you had and all there is left to do is go meet them.”

What if I told you that I just had a whole week’s vacation in four-star hotel villa in a small rustic beautiful village near Salamanca, Spain with three full meals a day and wine and it came with about forty new friends …all for free? Well, I did. And, I know what you’re thinking—‘what’s the catch?’ Well, there was one–all I had to do was speak English. And considering it is my native language…how hard could that be?

Pueblo Inglés is not exactly a school for English—it’s more like an intense English ‘experience.’ It’s a unique opportunity for native English speakers to immerse themselves in Spain’s culture and people firsthand in exchange for just chatting in English with Spaniards. And for the Spanish people, it’s like an intensive week-long camp or retreat entirely in English which gives them the opportunity to improve and practice their English the best way—by force of course. They are forbidden to speak in their native tongue all week and must converse in and listen to English at all hours of the day. Easy for me, not so much for them.

I was trawling the web one day looking for a job in Spain when the website for Pueblo Inglés popped up. The idea scared and intrigued me at the same time—not only would I be able to travel one more week without spending a dime (that’s 15 cents in Euro!), it would enable me to meet and connect with real Spaniards who mostly come from the professional business world (I found out later how ‘professional’ they really were)—something I find hard to do since the majority of locals I meet in many countries are folks who work in the tourism or service industries. It was another way for me to ‘break away’ from just being a tourist…as I’ve tried to do during my travels by working, volunteering, or just staying with friends and ‘hanging out’ instead of feeling pressure to sightsee and visit every old church in every old town I’m in. I applied on a whim not knowing if I truly wanted to commit to this week of constant jibber-jabbing, but, figured they probably wouldn’t accept me on such short notice or I could always say ‘no.’ Just one day later I received an email informing me that I had been accepted into the program and it was starting in two days! Okay…well…I guess I’m doing it! As I was still in Valencia, I had to quickly make some arrangements for transport and book a hotel in Madrid. And the very next day I high-tailed it to the capital city for the orientation.

The first day of the eight-day program we all gathered in a plaza in Madrid and were herded onto a bus. We rode for three hours west of Madrid to a tiny rural town called La Alberca full of winding cobblestone lanes and green hills dotted with clusters of trees all in their autumn best dropping acorns and chestnuts all over the countryside. Our hotel was in a bucolic setting with shady paths and ponds and was more like a group of several chalets. There were about 20 English speakers from Canada, the US, England, Australia, and Ireland and 20 Spaniards from all over Spain with ages ranging from early twenties to sixty plus.

Our program directors, Pablo and Akemi, laid down the law at the get-go: The most important rule of Pueblo Inglés–NO Spanish allowed. They really wanted this to be a true and hardcore immersion experience for the Spaniards—basically forcing them to drink, eat, sleep, and possibly dream in English.

Each morning after a buffet breakfast we paired off into ‘couples’ for ‘one to one’ conversations that would last about 50 minutes. After a ten minute break, we would then swap and grab another Spaniard for the next hour and so on. Everyone was unique and friendly and fun and never once did we run out of things to talk about. But, it was an odd and funny sight to see all these coupled pairs of people wandering around the grounds, sitting in chairs, and strolling down the street. If someone didn’t know better, it probably looked like some kind of psychiatric institution or rehab center where we were all getting over our drug, alcohol, or other addictions. Of course, if they saw our parties every night, they would probably think it wasn’t a very good program. Every time I walked around it made me laugh to see everyone chatting and ‘recovering.’ We would usually have a break sometime in the morning and also other activities like games, conference calls, and presentations—where lucky Spaniards got to tell us all about their jobs or Anglos entertained us with some kind of unique skill they have (singing, dancing, and other random embarrassing behavior). A three-course lunch with plenty of vino (nothing gets conversations going like some cheap wine can) was at two o’clock, followed by the very crucial Spanish siesta (nap time) until five o’clock. Then we continued with more talking, group discussions about anything and everything and hilarious skits. The skits and presentations were my favorite part. It reminded me of some university days doing role playing and brainstorming to come up with the most entertaining performance. [youtube=http://youtube.com/watch?v=_weg3Mw9LzY]

It was fun to just be silly and what I really remember most is laughing almost all the time…something I strive to do anyway and it was quite easy to do here. A three-course dinner with more wine, of course, was at nine (a little late for the Anglos, too early for the Spaniards!)…and then their Inglés would really get tested as many of us hung out at the bar until the wee hours of the morning. Not only was it great getting to know the Spanish folks, it was even more fun dancing with them. We did some salsa, we learned (not really) the Sevillanas (a traditional dance from the Andalucía region of Spain), had a girls vs. guys dance-fever style ‘dance-off’ (the chicas were robbed!), we even ‘Macarana-ed’ and did the ‘Electric Slide’—scary, but fun.

One night we were treated to the Spanish tradition of the Queimada. Queimada is said to originate from Pagan festivals of Galicia, the northwest region of Spain. It is a punch made from Orujo – a Spanish liquor containing 50% alcohol and flavored with coffee beans, plus sugar, lemon peel and cinnamon. Traditionally while preparing the punch, it is set on fire (thanks to the large amounts of alcohol) and a ‘witches’ spell is recited, so that special powers are conferred to the queimada and those drinking it.[youtube=http://youtube.com/watch?v=Jf-CVDUtiL8]

Maybe the queimada gave us special powers to not need sleep because, needless to say, some of us danced and partied nearly every single night ‘til 4 or 5 in the morning. Some nights, Peter, the guy who worked the hotel bar (and served the food, and drove the van, and maybe cut the grass…) actually wanted to go to sleep so he would close the hotel bar and a bunch of us who still had the energy (mostly Spaniards) would go to ‘David’s Private After-Party’ in his cottage. Staying up this late, this frequently, is something I rarely am able do anymore—especially back home when I’m working. I particularly noticed how amazing it is to feel this free and not have to worry about really anything. Even back in my university days I always had some worries in the back of my mind about exams, papers, boyfriends, etc. But here, my whole schedule was laid out for me. I had my own small ‘villa’ that I shared with Potola a sweet and hilarious flight attendant who can dance a mean Sevillanas. Our ‘casa’ was just steps from the lobby and bar so it was so easy to stumble to bed before sunrise, and get up the next morning (even if it was only a few hours later) and just walk over to my next session of speaking English. There was no commute, no metro, no taxi. You just walked home in two minutes. Life was good. Really all you had to remember to do was brush your teeth and shower. And speak English, of course.

It was easy for me, but much harder and more tiring for the Spaniards who had to do everything in their second language. Imagine being constantly forced to speak Spanish all day. Your brain would be so tired. And even when they were ‘enjoying the fruits of the vine” (okay, drunk) and dancing they were still speaking English. They even got a kick out of telling dirty jokes in English …although, some, I’m sure were much funnier in Spanish as the translations didn’t do them justice. But, still I was very impressed.

Mid-week we took a break and got a tour of the town that even included, of course, some tasty local wine, ham, and cheese. Oh, and then there was the Bota (a ‘bag’ of wine typically made from goat skin) drinking contest. And, yes, this was the day right after our latest party. I was already running on basically two hours of sleep, was hung-over, and not sure how these guys could manage this—but they basically squirted as much wine as they could into their gullets while everyone counted along. The winner drank for something like 70 counts. Okay, I was already hiding around the corner with a couple other ‘girls’. I just couldn’t do it.

Like with other tours and classes I’ve done around the world—there was an interesting variety of people to get to know and of course, a few characters. With such an intense environment of talking, we quickly got to know each other and all became friends. They were a fun, great group of people that I will never forget: from Jesus, a true professional, and one of the funniest guys there to Antonio—the ringer. He was an older, big family guy and at first glance you didn’t expect him to be funny, but this man was hilarious. He was in several groups I was in and was always coming up with witty ideas of how to make things funnier. And not only were we learning English–we also learned some Basque, some Catalonian, a bit of Gaelic, and even sign language, and, of course, how to do an Eskimo dance.

After a week of fun…we all ‘graduated’ and received our certificates for completing not only a week long English ‘course’ but one of the most fun weeks I’ve had in a long time. All in all, the week spent at Pueblo Inglés was like an intense microcosm of life—a condensed, easy version of life and having to say goodbye after our amazing week together was hard for me. Hopefully the Spaniards improved their English (they can definitely order more drinks and tell jokes in English now—usually good for the business world, right?) and I know I have made some amazing new friends here in Spain that will remain in my heart and I hope in my life always.

(sorry, here are some inside jokes):

Psssssssh! Pssssshhhh!
Under the weather??
Enjoy It!
Ball that’s Yellow (Yellow ball!)
Leave your hat on—Jesus, David, Luis, Vicente, Brian, Jose Angel & Alberto Garcia!
One to Ones

Incredible Professional!
Now THIS is the most wonderful moment!
Groovin’ to Sergio’s mobile: ‘it’s your birthday…’
Lies and truths
Everyone: Alive, alive oh!, alive, alive oh! Crying cockles and mussels alive, alive oh!
Say: All those who are wearing…

Here is a video on the program done by a BBC Morning Program:

[youtube=http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=yLzF0QjnuEo]

One of the things that always makes me feel like a real local…is going for a run. Jogging along with other native folks, sweating just the same, definitely has a non-tourist feel to it. Of course, don’t get the wrong impression—that I’m some kind of perfect die-hard runner—nothing could be further from the truth. I have only gone running a handful of times during my whole entire trip. That’s pretty pathetic when I think about how I would run or go to the gym back home at least three times a week (okay, on good weeks). But, hey, I did cycle nearly the entire length of Vietnam and the amount of walking and hiking I’m doing is incomparable to my old daily life of sitting behind my computer cooped up in the caverns of a TV station studio or editing room all day long. Not to make excuses, but I did have an unfortunate ankle-twisting situation months ago back in Melbourne, Australia after one too many glasses of wine and some steep stairs to the bathroom. This put me off of running for awhile especially since my ankle looked like a mango for a few months.

So, now that I got a brand spankin’ new ipod for my birthday (thanks mom!) and my ankle has had six months to heal—I figured I’d run (no pun intended) out of excuses. Plus, thankfully Claudia dragged me out to run in Cologne and I couldn’t believe we ran about 6 or 7 kilometers…something I rarely do.

So here I was jogging along the palm-tree lined streets of Valencia, Spain. It was beautiful. It was warm. And the centuries-old architecture was distracting me from the fact that I hate running. And then, I saved a life. Oh yes, you heard me. On a busy boulevard I noticed a car was stopped in the middle of the street beeping its horn. I thought they were saying ‘hola’ to an older woman who was standing in the grassy median while her dog did his ‘business.’ Then the dog-woman started flailing her arms wildly and I got curious. I stepped off the sidewalk to have a look past the parked cars that were blocking my view. There, in front of the car, was a tiny grey kitty, stopped dead in his tracks full of fear. An animal in distress always sends me running (no pun intended)…so I jumped out into traffic (it was me or the cat) and shooed the little guy to the safety of the sidewalk. He darted under the parked cars and the four of us (the dog walker, the car passengers, myself, and, of course, Señor gato) let out a sigh or relief, exchanged waves and smiles and went on our way. No one spoke a word, but it was nice to see we were all on the side of the cat. And, in some odd way, I felt like a member of their society and not just a jogging tourist.

Bienvenidos a España. I can not believe I am nearly all the way around the world in Spain. I just left perfect, straight laced, efficient Cologne, Germany for Valencia, Spain. On first glance the city is magnificent. It’s full of lively plazas and grand baroque buildings and gothic churches. And tapas, delicious mouth-watering tapas. My first night in town I was back to traveling alone after quite a long streak of a month and a half of being with various friends. I wandered the streets around with the rest of the Valencians and joined their siesta stroll. Not only was it a Friday, it was also October 12^th, Spain’s “Hispanic Day” or, as we know it, Columbus Day, so the masses were out in force. So much so, that I almost was without a place to stay. There was not a bed to be had at a hostel or hotel. The morning I flew to Valencia I called one last chance place who didn’t take reservations—you just had to call them the day of arrival—and fortunately they had one double bed left. Phew.

I popped into a friendly looking tapas place and filled my hungry tummy with delectable treats served on thick slices of baguette—tuna topped with an anchovy, chorizo sausage, prosciutto ham and cheese, and a Spanish Tortilla (omelet) filled with potatoes, onions and ham. I sat at the ‘bar’ where there were cases lined up with these morsels—you just take what you want out of the cases and save the toothpicks so you can pay according to how many toothpicks you have–genius…or too trusting considering how easy it is to toss a toothpick on the floor. It was like a “Sushi Train” restaurant where the little fishes ‘swim’ by you on a conveyor belt—leave it to the Japanese to dine with super efficiency. Makes we wonder why the Germans don’t have some kind of Wurst Wheel or something. The sushi train color codes its plates so when you are done you are charged by the amount of small plates you’ve stacked up. I washed it all down with a cold cerveza and my whole dinner of 4 tapas and a beer cost me six Euros. I love Spain already.

During its 2000-year history, Valencia has been occupied by Rome, the Visigoths, the Moors, and the Spanish Kings. The cobblestone lanes of the city are filled with history at every turn and amazingly ornate baroque buildings in every square. But one of the most impressive sights here is La Ciudad de Arts y Ciencias (the City of Arts and Sciences), world renowned architect Santiago Calatrava’s big masterpiece for his own hometown. Just approaching this museum complex had me in awe. The structures are, to say the least, oversized and in your face modern. There is a planetarium, Oceanographic Park, Opera House, a Science Museum and outdoor garden. Every structure has its own distinct organic shape, but all are connected with the same shiny white mosaic tile clad shells. It was a joy just to walk around them and gaze up at the work of this master who is currently the designer of two very famous projects in the US—the Transportation Hub at the new World Trade Center in New York City and the soon-to-be tallest building in North America, the Chicago Spire…in…er, Chicago, of course.

I only spent a few days in Amsterdam, a bicycle-crazy (Holland’s 16 million people own 16 million bikes), live and let live place where all things in moderation are legal, first with my friend Mark and then with some friends I’d met in Turkey.

Then I returned to Germany to spend a week in Cologne with my friends Claudia and Sascha. Thanks to Sascha, I ended up working in the Economics Department at the University of Cologne for a few days helping on an international research study surveying the relationship between airlines and their hub airports. It was a lot of phone calling, but fun considering I’d been to many of the places I was calling. The hardest part wasn’t convincing the people to be a part of the study, but just to get someone, anyone to answer the phone—in some small places like Cyprus no one would ever answer the phone at all–I’m sure the weather was just too nice to be indoors. In the US, someone would always answer, but it was some android automated person–‘Roberta robot’ and she always made it difficult for me to get transferred to an actual human.

One night Claudia took me to a party at a friend of hers. It was fun, once again, to not be a tourist and hang out with locals at a regular house party. Here I met a very good-looking Eastern European guy (who will remain anonymous) who I naturally flirted with, but he literally spoke three words of English and my ‘insert Eastern European language here’ is non-existent. So what do you in a case like this? Use the language of love, of course. We emailed a bit afterwards and I found his English translations not only hilarious, but oddly profound as well. Enjoy.

>—–Original Message—–
>Sent: Monday, October 08, 2007 9:19 PM
>To: Lisa Lubin
>Subject: Re: Guten Abend
hi like goes you it? You know who writes. thank you.

>——– Оригинално писмо ——–
>От: “Lisa Lubin” <llworldtour@yahoo.com>
>Относно: RE: Guten Abend
>Изпратено на: Сряда, 2007, Октомври 9 00:38:23 EEST
Hi!
How are you? (Wie Gehts???)
At first I thought this email was spam!!
I’m here in Cologne still. I’m staying near the University and start working there tomorrow. I am flying to Spain on Friday. I hope you can understand this email!
Lisa
Bis später!!

>—–Original Message—–
>Sent: Tuesday, October 09, 2007 9:19 AM
>To: Lisa Lubin
>Subject: Re: Guten Abend
>Hi Lisa, I let this translated over a machine, and I don’t know whether this
>got along something I wrote. I wish you much fun in Spain. Much fun with
>her/it works. Pay attention well to you.Greeting.

>——– Оригинално писмо ——–
>От: “Lisa Lubin” <llworldtour@yahoo.com>
>Относно: RE: Guten Abend
>Изпратено на: Сряда, 2007, Октомври 10 00:38:23 EEST
>———————————-
>Hi!! Funny translation!
>Too bad we can’t meet up for a beer or something…
>I’m around til Friday! I can teach you English!!!
>Lisa

> >Sent: Wednesday, October 10, 2007 10:23 PM
> >To: Lisa Lubin
> >Subject: Re: RE: Guten Abend >
hi Lisa.As it go yourself it.I am kapput.today, was one exhausting
day.When you fly exactly on the Friday.I would undertake something gladly with you.
we will be able to get along badly, but you can teach me;)

>От: “Lisa Lubin” <llworldtour@yahoo.com>
> >Относно: RE: RE: Guten Abend
> >Изпратено на: Сряда, 2007, Октомври 10 23:52:04 EEST
> >———————————-
> >You are funny! You are Kapput! Me too–I worked at University Cologne today and have to tomorrow at 7am.
> >My flight on Friday is at 12:30pm. Tomorrow afternoon I am free…where are you? I will be walking around Koln.
> >Take care and keep smiling!
> >LL

>—–Original Message—–
>Sent: Thursday, October 11, 2007 12:21 AM
>To: Lisa Lubin
>Subject: Re: RE: RE: Guten Abend
Hi Lisa, you bring me to the laughter. I don’t know whether I will be nachmitag in Cologne tomorrow. Until 17 o’clock, I becomes befriend something for mine must take care of and then, I must give child-training afterward I have in the time of. Why you don’t give me your correct enamel-address:, like said I would meet you gladly I, however, doesn’t know whether I in the time of has.Hopefully you now and then write if we don’t find ourselves.Greeting

>——– Оригинално писмо ——–
>От: “Lisa Lubin” <llworldtour@yahoo.com>
>Относно: Guten Nacht
>Изпратено на: Четвъртък, 2007, Октомври 11 01:28:45 EEST
>———————————-
Your English is improving with every email!! I don’t have a phone or I’d give you the number…
PLUS what would we say since we don’t speak each other’s language.I think if we met…we may not be able to talk much!! The best way to reach me is email…or on skype.
>Guten Nacht.
>Xx,
>LL

—–Original Message—–
Sent: Thursday, October 11, 2007 12:55 AM
To: Lisa Lubin
Subject: Re: Guten Nacht
hmmm Madam, you are a funny medchen, the best we first-once write how you say since we cannot understand each other. I cannot forget your eyes.One finds oneself. Pay attention well to you and don’t forget to write. Send me the photos.
Later, if I can English, I tell you some matters:

—–Original Message—–
Sent: Thursday, October 11, 2007 7:55 AM
To: Lisa Lubin
Subject: Re: Guten Nacht
hi Lisa, as it goes you. If nothing can say to it. I don’t want to destroy your plans. You are a fascinating woman and very sexy.I hope that no one will read these enamels. Flige to Spain has your fun and if then improves itself my English we can ourselves in rests entertained. Until then, we write ourselves enamels and it will be much more more interesting if we find ourselves someday. Sleep well and pas well on you on.Good travels and much jokes with dei
—————————————————————–
Крайна цел - Да оцелееш!

So my little readers…it has been exactly one year since I embarked on this marvelous journey. I truly can not believe how fast it has gone. You may have noticed I am still gone…which means I am extending the one year plan to one year plus…more. I am still not sure when I will return. But I am in Spain now and am nearing the Atlantic Ocean which marks my circumnavigation of the globe (yep me…and Chris Columbus). I am not exactly sure what I will do when I look out across the sea towards America. Perhaps I will feel it is ready to come home…or perhaps I will wave, turn around and keep on traveling. I am trying to live for each day and not worry too much about this for now. But the ‘nearness’ to some kind of end has inevitably started to preoccupy my thoughts. Of course, with the passing of one year…I felt it necessary to take stock and make some all important lists.

As I travel, many are often asking me about the money I’ve spent traveling around the world for one year. As I’ve said before, it is much less than what most think. Staying in budget hotels, pensions, or hostels, and eating at tasty local, yet cheap, establishments makes a trip like this incredibly affordable. And, after one year, I’ve spent less than I had actually budgeted for.

So here’s a list of the money I’ve spent:

Moolah:

• USD
• Costa Rican Colonnes
• Ecuadorian US Dollars (yes, their official currency is the greenback)
• Chilean Peso
• Argentinean Peso
• New Zealand $
• Australian $
• Hong Kong $
• Vietnamese Dong (16,000 Dong=$1)
• Cambodia Riel
• Thai Bhat
• Singapore $
• Dubai Dirham
• Turkish Lira
• Romanian Lei
• Hungarian Forint
• Slovak Crown
• Czech Crown
• Polish Zloty
• Euro

A big theme to my trip is of course being ‘on the move.’ And besides walking, many things have ‘moved’ me over the course of a year. I am excited about all the ways I have managed to get myself around the planet.

Types of Transport

• Plane (100+ hours flying time on 26 different flights)
• Train (inside, and on top of)
• Bus
• Boat/Ferry
• Car (usually as a passenger–I’ve only driven twice now on my entire trip—once in Melbourne in a rental car challenging my ‘wrong side of the road’ driving skills, and once in Bistrita, Romania—getting to speed down the dusty village roads in my friend’s prize BMW.)
• SUV (used in the real sense)
• Tram
• Camel
• Snow Board (on sand)
• Bicycle
• Motorbike
• Tuk Tuk
• Cyclo
• Funicular (Quito, Istanbul, Zakapone)
• Subway/Metro
• Zipline

Other Odd Statistics:

• Glaciers: 4 (Cotopaxi, Pio XI, Grey Glacier, Perito Moreno)
• Volcanoes: 5 (Irazu, Arenal, Cotopaxi, Osorno, Galapagos)
• Caves: 6 Galapagos, Milodin–Chile, Halong Bay, Cu Chi Tunnels, Tinaztepe—Turkey, Wieliczka—Poland)

Things I’ve had to replace:

• Sunglasses—3x
• Umbrella—2x
• Hair Clips—2x
• Sandals—1x
• Jeans—1x
• Suitcase Wheels—1x
• Ipod—1x
• Toothbrush—1x
• Toe Ring—1x

Odd Foods I’ve Consumed (usually in very small quantities):

• Vegemite
• Kangaroo
• Cow penis
• Chicken intestine
• Chicken feet
• Chicken head (okay, I didn’t eat the whole thing—just a little nibble on the neck)
• Goat
• Orejas (pig ears…say what?)

And now…it’s time for some shameless self-promotion!! As this website racks up hits (nearly 40,000 to date), the phenomenon that is “LLWorldTour” has gotten some mentions in various spots all over the web and beyond.

Over the last few months I have been fortunate to be featured in the Chicago Daily Herald, The New Jersey Daily Record, and was recently named ‘the lost girl of the week’ on the popular travel site: The Lost Girls.

Check it out:

· The New Jersey Daily Record

· Chicago Daily Herald

· The Lost Girls

· GO Nomad Q&A with LL

· Jaunted–The Pop Culture Travel Guide

· Vacation Apprentice

· Navimag Ferry Website