Of rocky coastlines and nude beaches and beautiful strangers and full moon beaches in Lagos.

“An ocean breeze puts a mind at ease”

Friday, August 11, 2017
Lagos, Portugal

This past summer I did a spur of the moment trip to Portugal…. Before I left, I quickly did a bit of investigating to see where I wanted to go in Portugal, other than Lisbon. I had heard nothing but good things about everything Portugal-related.
I could venture to the hills and stay in Sintra.. which was supposed to be a a day-trip from Lisbon that had a fairy-tale-like palace and old-style medieval streets, forests and castle ruins, lush gardens and fresh air, all atop one of the many hills in and around Lisbon.
I could venture a tad south to Cascais… a little beach town with some alluring beaches and upscale vibes. It was another day-trip option from Lisbon…
I could venture north to Porto and sample some of their famous wine..
OR
I could go south to the magical Algarve Coast.
And that I did.
And tho I nearly missed my flight back due to wildfires preventing the train from going any further and being stuck in the middle of nowhere Portugal with less than 5 hours until my flight left and knowing it was at least an hour or two drive to get to Lisbon and with no idea how long the roads/railways would be up and working again…
But I digress.
I took the bus down south. It took what seemed like forever.. driving through a lot of nothing.. and then we got to the coast.. and my excitement grew as I saw palm trees and the sea just beyond.. the white-washed houses that made me reminisce of my adventures on the various Greek Islands.
Finally I arrived in Lagos. At the bus station. Which was pretty much a garage that held 2-3 buses if that.
I walked out into the scorching sun, not caring about the heaviness of my backpack, my heart soaring. I walked down the boardwalk, an inlet leading to marinas on one side and booths of souvenirs and trinkets and beach blankets and everything you could imagine made out of cork and bathing suits and cover ups with booth after booth of different companies selling kayak trips, boat trips, booze cruises and snorkeling on the other side.
There was a nice seaside breeze that kept the heat from being unbearable. The smell of the air reminded me of California coast. I sighed with happiness.
I made my way to the hostel that I had booked last minute, unable to find a couchsurfer.
I had booked a 4 bedroom dorm, deciding to treat myself to all the luxuries this trip since it was the big trip of the summer.
Of course, when I got there, they had overbooked and put me in a 10 bed room.
I was a tad peeved, but quickly shoved aside the negativity my brain bustled with and headed up to the pool (yes they had a POOL!!)
but unfortunately it was nothing to write home about either. Yes it had a beautiful view. Beach chairs. A vending machine with beer.
But the make up of the people made me feel like I had stepped back in Alabama amongst the frat boys and sorority girls.  The guys shouted some inappropriate things at me, sloshing their beers around. The girls laughed as they lay back on their sun chairs surrounded by the beer guzzling good ol’ boys.
I quickly decided it was time to leave.
Explore.
And mannnnnn I was NOT disappointed!!
The beach started a 5 minute walk from the hostel door. I quickly made my way through a huge plaza with palm trees and a kids bungee jumping set up and along the crumbly white walls of the old town across the street and down the walkway down to the beach.
The sun was on its way to setting and the sand was basking in the last remnants of sunshine, glowing and golden. The waves were gentle and rolling. I was happy to see that it wasn’t too crowded… I could walk on the sand without the obstacle course of veering around towels and people. There were huge rocks popping out of the sand, reminding me vaguely of the Oregon Coast. The tide was up and there were people wading out, thigh high and climbing into a hole in one of the rocks and disappearing. Unfortunately, I had not dressed to get too wet so I had to wait for that adventure….
Due to the high tide, I was not able to walk too far and looped back to the roadway and walked along as it hugged the coast. There were various sketchy-looking stairs carved out of the rocky cliffside that led down to different coves. My breath was taken away. It was positively stunning.
I walked back to the hostel as the sun set, deciding what to do next. I recharged and refueled my phone and my body and debated what to do next.
“Wander the streets.. there are plenty of bars to hop into!”
Was the recommendation by many people.
I wandered the narrow alleys and little streets.  Within 10 minutes I decided that partying at a bar was on the bottom of my list of things to do.
I noticed the moon was full…. Full moon on the beach… sounded magical.
I walked back to the beach. This time the tide was very low and I was able to walk through a series of rocky caves and holes in the wall… No one was on the beach. The full moon shone brightly on the water making it sparkle and shine. It illuminated all of the rocks that peeped out of the water causing an eerie glow about them.
I wandered with my feet in the water, the cold was no bother this night. I was blissful.
As I went through one little hole in the wall, I heard chattering and drumming. There was the faint flicker of a bonfire up ahead. Laughter echoed up and down the cliffside. I was intrigued.
Remembering I had bought some Palinka from the duty-free shop back in Bucharest, I whipped it out of my bag.
I cautiously moved closer, assessing the vibes.
They seemed friendly. Laid back. Dressed in bohemian clothes and loose flowy fabric. A couple were huddled in a sleeping bag and there were two tents pitched nearby. AND they were speaking English.
Perfect.
“Hey ya’ll! Good evening! I see your tents here, does that mean it is possible to sleep down here on the sand?” I asked hesitantly as I got near, “By the way, I have some Palinka from Romania! Would you like some?”
There was a good ten seconds of heavy silence. Then the whole group descended into friendly laughter.
“Yeah sure! Come and have a seat!”
And I was in.
I had booked two nights at the hostel and the last night before I flew out of Lisbon I intentionally didn’t plan anything… wanting to decide in the moment if I wanted to stay down south or head back to Lisbon or Sintra…
So it was a legitimate question..
I had slept on the beach before..
There is nothing like sleepily waking to the sun cresting over the horizon above the sea and the gentle sound of the sea licking the sand. The sky aglow with colors.
So I spent that night chumming it up with this beautiful bunch of nomadic travelers. Each had their own story and journey to that particular beach that particular night. I was fascinated. They were fascinated with the fact that I chose Romania as a place to settle. We swapped stories…. shared drinks… and giggled the night away.
Eventually I made my way back to the hostel to sleep.
The next day I went off the pathways above the cliffs and discovered even more magnificent views and tucked away secret beaches. As I was stumbling around on one half-there path I noticed that there was a pathway through the rocks to the left that led down toward a beach. Then I noticed the cardboard sign that had the words “NUDE BEACH” scrawled in black marker with an arrow pointing down.
I did not hesitate and quickly scrambled down the rocks, half sliding most of the way. HOW EXCITING!!
When I finally hit the sand, I was greeted with another cardboard sign with “NUDE Beach” scrawled across and the most beautiful cove I had ever seen. The rocks extended out on either side so that straight in front there was an opening to the sea only about 4 meters wide. The water was the most beautiful shade of deep emerald. There were a few people laying about, fully embracing the Nude Beach philosophy. A few people were more conservative and kept partially covered.
It was a very hot day and I was quite exhausted and dusty from crawling around in the rocks. It didn’t take long for me to strip down and head on in. The water was just cold enough to send initial shock waves through my body and give me a jolt of energy.
It was a little slice of heaven. There were little shelves along the sides that were just big enough for me to climb up onto and jump off of.
I got back to the sand, hoping to let the sun dry me off a bit before I continued on.
Not too long after I got out, an older, leathery, super tan old man, about 60 years of age, came up to me.
He was naked.
Talking in Portuguese.
He was obviously “excited” if you know what I mean.
I didn’t know where to look.
I didn’t know what to say.
He was very enthusiastically gesturing at the rocky cliffisides, obviously wanting to share with me his keenness of something…
I stood stunned for a few minutes, letting him talk. A fake smile plastered on my face, not sure what else to do or what expression to use.
“I’m sorry… I don’t understand… I don’t speak Portuguese.”
I mumbled in English… then in Spanish…
He threw back his head full of silver hair and laughed as though I was the most hysterical person on earth.
I pointed back towards my clothes and tried to explain to him that I needed to go. I attempted to use hand gestures to explain to him that I needed to get dressed… go back up the cliff… walk to the city… and drink coffee…
I’m not sure how much of it he understood, though he was staring intently at my wild gestures. He let out his loud laugh again and made a hand motion as though to wave me away.
And away I went.
Back to my clothes.
Back up the cliff.
But ohhhhh that day… that wild overgrown maze of pathways above the cliffsides… every time I ventured to the edge of an outcropping, I was gifted with what I thought was the most beautiful view of anything I had seen. Until I got to the next “viewpoint”
The rocky cliffsides were sandy and light tan in some places, grey and solid rock in others. The water ranged from clear to turquoise to emerald green.
Some of the cliffisdes, if you got close to them, they were freckled with fossilized shells. I was fascinated.
I did not want to leave.
I did a kayak tour through different lagoons and caves and secret beaches. I slept on the beach the last night with a friend I had met on the kayak tour and we stayed up with the nomadic travelers and drummed, drank, talked, sang, and laughed the night away. We all fell into a groggy hazy sleep until the sun emerged from under the horizon and we all stood up, wrapped up in our own blankets, our feet at the edge of the sand, the waves kissing the tops of our toes gently as we stayed there in shared awe and silence. All lost in our own thoughts. All of us would be leaving that day. Each to a different place. Each at different times. Each for different reasons.
But that night and the ones previous, our hearts smiled together as we shared the beach in the moonlight together.
I didn’t get any of their contacts. No phone numbers. No facebook friends.
We just left it as that time in Lagos. Those nights where we all shared our stories and made music and danced in the firelight under the full moon.
And it was perfect.
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One of the many beautiful beaches in Lagos. :)) The giant rocks in the water are slightly reminiscent of those on the Oregon Coast… though the vibes and temperature and culture and water are completely different…

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There were so many beautiful shells scattered around in the sand….

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One of the many “Hole in the Wall”‘s that one could walk through (when it isn’t high tide) to get from one beach to another.

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Fossilized shells in the rocks!! I spent a lot of time admiring all the different shells hidden in the rocks…

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One of the most beautiful nude beaches I have ever been too…

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These were down at the nude beach… Made out of some of the clay that rested between the sand and the cliffside. I got the vibes that the creepy (but good intentioned) old dude who tried to talk to me lived here and these were some of his creations.

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One after the other these views literally took my breath away… The Algarve coast is certainly one of a kind. Definitely worth a visit and an adventure. Stunning coastline and briskly cool waters and lagoons and coves and ohhhhhhh I could go on and on and on…

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This was one of the secret beaches we came to on the kayak ride. We stopped here for 10 minutes and I spent the entire time snorkeling along the edges looking for an octopus sleeping in a crevice…. but sadly found none 😦

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Hearts are wild creatures


“Why do you look so sad? Because you speak to me in words and I look at you with feelings.” ~Pierrot la fou

Tuesday August 16, 2016
Day 89
Laufen, Switzerland

What a roller coaster of a couple days…
Hearts are wild creatures, thats why our ribs are cages.
I am having difficulty finding places to stay.. it seems the well has dried up.. Of all those couchsurfing requests I sent out, only a handful of them replied and only to decline, saying they were busy or out of town or already hosting..
So I shot up north to visit some old friends from the hostel… I was hesitant.. too many feelings would be involved.. and I was already anxious and sad that no one was responding to my couchsurfing…
As I said, constantly torn between “if its meant to be, it’ll be” and “if you want it, go and get it”
I just feel deflated.
I got to Laufen. My friend, Felix, who I knew from my hostel days in San Diego picked me up, and we caught up quickly on all the things that happened since.. I had spent 2 months with him and three months with his best friend, Max, when they came down to San Diego. I had been toying with the idea of seeing his best friend… I knew it wouldn’t be the same.. he had a gf..we barely exchanged but a few brief (on his side) texts since he left.. but his friend was keen on me coming down and I was keen on seeing the little place that they lived that I had heard so much about.
His apartment was beautiful, modern, super clean, chic, white, simple, elegant, spacious… very European.. no clutter.. fancy things..
His roommates were very nice.. very sweet..
Felix decided to take me to the river.
Perfect.
I recalled them telling me stories of their lazy summers jumping in the river..
We pulled up at a house.. I was suddenly aware of my heartbeat.. thumbing a little too loud inside my chest…
I remembered this house..  had showed me this on Google images one night back in San Diego when we were laying around, fighting sleep, passing time telling each other stories… I asked him to show me his world.. and he wove beautiful stories of times in this house.. the surrounding area.. the place where they practiced their band.. their school.. everything.. I knew it all already..
I asked him what we were doing, and Felix hopped out of the car, saying we were going to get Max and bring him to the lake.
Shit. Ok.
I wasn’t prepared. I looked like shit. My heart wasn’t ready. I wasn’t ready. I sent a silent prayer to whoever and anyone that maybe he wasn’t home.
We walked up the steps to the big house he showed me that day long ago…  they looked the same as the pictures.. some being taken over by the grass surrounding… and the garden.. the terrace where he said they would jam on summer evenings..
I was getting nervous. Anxious. Scared. How was I supposed to feel? I have no idea. We had shared so much and got so close and then nothing.He left. Barely heard from him again. And here I was, ascending the curved staircase he had talked about so much when he dreamed out loud of going home… I knew that to the right was their smoking room.. to the left was his room..
“Come on Penny! I hear his voice!” I heard Felix impatiently called to me from the top of the stairs… I realized I was taking these steps extremely slow..
As I finally reached the top of the stairs, I saw him, the world around me disappeared. The floor below me rushed away. My heart dropped. The air in my lungs dissapeared. All the feelings… the times we shared.. the nights.. the days.. the laughter.. the tears.. the swims int the ocean.. the car rides.. Our trip to Joshua tree.. Sunsets at sunset cliffs… The pizza place they loved so much in San Diego.. Our trip to Grand Canyon when it snowed… Burger land.. Halloween…how he taught me guitar.. taught me to skateboard.. taught me many things that cannot be fathomed into words.. our whole 3.5 months of slowly getting closer and then suddenly its like we fell off a beautiful cliff into a deep, pure connection.. hit me like a ton of bricks. His smile was the same. His hair flopped around the same way. Tall and strong as ever.
I hugged him and quickly pulled away.
My heart was bursting with happy and confusion and devastation.
His voice. His laugh. Everything. Perfect.
So we picked up Max and his roomate and continued on. 
I remember many, many days traveling with them in California. Felix driving my car, because I hate driving. Max and I curled up in the backseat.. him playing with my hair while I rested my head on his lap.. he was a good cuddler.. he liked to be touched.. I needed that.. The one time I was in front was when me, Felix, Max, Aubrey and I went to Joshua tree at the end of their first 2 weeks in California, both of us sneaking glances at each other in the overhead mirror between the front seats. By the time we were driving home. I was in the backseat with him and pretty much never left. 
This time, Felix was driving but I was sitting passenger and Max and his friend were in back. I was glad Max was right behind me. It caused an explosion in my heart when I saw him.
We got to the spot, walked out and through all the bushes.. I, as usual, got distracted by the spider webs and the blackberries and the stinging nettle and the different spots on the river that looked absolutely stunning..
We found a rope swing. We drank some beers. Felix and I played in the water, Max and his friend stayed on the riverbank.
We barely exchanged a few words. I wanted to say so much. I could put nothing into a comprehensible sentence. It hurt to look at him.
I felt like a blender had gone off in my heart and soul.
We went for Ice cream after at Felix’s girlfriends workplace. It was delicious. Some of the most delicious ice cream I had ever tasted. I relished every bite.
The three boys began talking in Swiss German.
I have become used to this in my travels, being the only one that doesn’t speak another language. Its difficult not to feel left out or rejected after awhile.
Before too long, I could see them look at me off and on in their conversations. The tone was tense. Max was shaking his head no.
Shit.
I pushed away the remains of my ice cream. Suddenly it tasted rotten.
I knew Felix had band practice that night and I was 100% sure he was asking if he could pass me on to Max while he was gone. And of course, Max said no.
It has been a trend these days.
I found it difficult. All these rejections on couchsurfing. Plans to go this way and that falling through. I thought I had it covered. I sent out about 30 different messages to all areas of Europe.. This lost feeling was a familiar, though upsetting one. The feeling of being unwanted. Literally, unwanted.
I was breaking. I excused myself from the table to go to the restroom to collect myself and give myself a pep talk of sorts.
I returned, Max gave me one of his perfect smiles. I could manage a half smile before I had to turn away.
We dropped him off. My heart sunk even further when he mentioned quite clearly, “My girl is coming over to lay with me”
I had gone numb by this time.. I simply smiled and gave him a quick hug and hopped back in the car..
Felix dropped me off at his place and although my mind and heart were far away for the most part, his roommate did an excellent job of keeping me distracted and served me some delicious drinks and showed me some Swiss German music… He was absolutely the sweetest thing and just what I needed right then.
Felix and his gf came and joined us in our drinking and laughing. They were perfect to me. I couldn’t have asked for anything more.
The next day, Felix and his gf and I met with another friend and we floated down the river.. It was like a lazy river at the water parks but in real life! Floating down with just an inflatable, waterroof bag and the charming city on either side..
And then the gypsy camp where we had a much needed beer and I got to explore the intricacies of the street art and random structures and intriguing art.
Then Felix had another band practice. This band was with Max. Max had told me all about these bad practices. Described the old industrial building outside of the city. How their room was up on the 4th floor and how they were in 2 different rooms before they got the big one on the end. I felt like I knew it already.
I got to sit up on the loft thing that was created above the door so I had a perfect view of all 5 of them jamming out. I had dreamed of this moment. To be able to see them play live. I remember our talks late at night. The promises he made of if I ever came to his town. Of course, things changed. 9 months is a long time.
It was surreal.
They played Ghostbusters and Santana and other the songs I had heard about. I couldn’t stop smiling. To keep myself busy so I wasn’t just staring, I brought some paint and started painting scenes of oceans and the moon and rainbows on my legs. I didn’t want to catch his eye in case he looked up here. But I was happy. I LOVE live music and I pretended that it was a concert just for me 🙂
After, on our way home, I was defeated. Tired, sleepy, my heart and soul were drained. I wanted to sleep and then get on to my next destination.
Sweet, sweet Felix. He did so good the two days to make me feel welcome. I am sure he was not aware of all that was going on inside of me, but I am sure he caught on that I was quieter than the Penny he knew back in San Diego. I love that kid with all my heart and soul and owe him so much for all he did 🙂 I did truly have a wonderful time on the river and drinking and chatting with his roommates and the gypsy camp and
The hardest part is over.
I wish I would have gotten to talk to Max. Just him and I. Even for just a little bit. There are things I wanted to say. Feelings I wanted to convey. Things I wanted to thank him for.
But, it wasn’t meant to be. I didn’t have the time or courage to try to sit with just him and me.  But its over. I saw him. And it certainly didn’t go as I wanted it to, but it happened.
Never before have I felt so ugly. So fat. So gross. So blah. My mind was fucking with me. Or was it? Was I really that gross? All of their friends know me. I am sure. They have heard stories of how Max flew back to San Deigo after being in Hawaii. That ugly  voice took over, grasping my all of my thoughts and turning them icy, “I bet they think, “THIS is who he spent his time in San Deigo with? What the fuck? Some crazy, ugly, fat American girl?”
Oh the shitty things my mind tried to make me believe. Scrutinizing myself at every turn, only to be disappointed and disheartened.
Now it is today. the day I leave.. STILL no place to sleep. Tonight. Tomorrow.
I booked a BlahBlah car to Lugano.. a beautiful city on a lake near some mountains.. Still no response on couchsurfing. The hotels are too expensive. The hostels are booked.
So it looks like I might be spending tonight sleeping down by the beauty of the lake with a heavy heart and hopes and dreams that the upcoming days will bring peace and happy…

It’s crazy how, with this trip, eyes things go well, everything goes well, the universe conspires to create perfection. And when things start down downhill, everything goes, rolling and picking up prickly bits on the way. News from friends back home too. Nothing’s quite working out anywhere. 
I think I will allow myself a real breakdown tonight, alone, under the stars, so far away from anyone and anything I know, in a most gorgeous part of the world.. Life is beautiful, but it is also difficult. I am wary, yet excited of what adventures await..
From Lugano,  I will figure out how to get to Venice… or Florence.. or Sicily…?
“There was nowhere to go but everywhere, so just keep on rolling under the stars.”
~Jack Kerouac

Fondue for two with a view 

“As soon as I saw you I knew an adventure was going to happen.” 
Winnie the Pooh

Sunday August 7, 2016
Day 80
Luzern, Switzerland

What an amazing weekend.
Every weekend seems to get better and better.
Though this one left me with a heavy heart and I couldn’t help but feel truly sad on the train home.

It’d been a long time since I felt such intense feelings… Let someone into my world… … Let them captivate my heart…

He took me to this cabin way up on a mountain side with a view of the alps. It was supposed to take 2 hours.. It took us nearly 4… There were step ups as high as my waist… There were sheep with sheep bells… Cows with cow bells… Muddy, wet, sticky bits of the pathway… Lush green pasture bits with wildflowers… Bits with a thick, soft carpet of downed leaves in the middle of a forest full of mossy trees… It lasted forever.. But I loved it… I felt myself getting stronger.. I was in the woods not the city… I felt alive skipping about in nature and dipping my feet in the waterfalls we happened across…

Once we finally arrived, our legs burning with the intensity of the uphill climb, I teetered on the edge of wanting to curl up and take a long nap right there in the grass and frolicking around, exploring and taking in the views from all around the cabin.

We ended up talking and drinking wine while I scoured the hillside for the tiny, yet scrumptious, wild strawberries that littered the area, digging my fingers in the bushes, in the soil, careful not to disturb the stinging nettle.

Fondue. For two. With a view. omg wow.

Combining melty cheese. Fresh bread. Wine. And he threw in a couple pears to dip in the fondue as well.. I thought it peculiar, but the mix of the cold and sweet pear mixed with the warm, savory cheese… Mmmm

Outside, We sat on a little ridge just behind the cabin and there we spent the rest of the evening. Watching the sky change colors. The dark, clouded sky part to reveal a breathtaking view of the twinkling stars above.

And we talked. Ohhh how we talked. About this and that. Deep things. Silly things. Travel stories. Hopes and wishes. Childhoods. The planets. The stars. German vs Swiss German. All the things.
He tried to teach me shooting star in German. I need to remember that word. Sternschnuppe. My word for us. We saw a few that night.

The breeze picked up to a brisk wind and we went inside the cabin. No electricity. My favorite. It was dark and cold. He built a fire and we huddled around it, talking more and more and sharing songs.. Falling deeper and deeper in warmth, not just from the fire but from this kind soul in front of me.

I will be forever grateful for him for providing me with all the feelings and emotions these past two weekends brought on.  I thank him forever. It brought me hope… That someone is still willing to spend the time to get to know me and act in such a way to make me feel wanted…Interesting.. Safe… If only for a couple days…

It’s been a long Europe trip and I’ve been having difficulty finding people I connect with. So being around him set my soul on fire.

And with a sad heart I leave Luzern behind. Him behind.

I told him, only half joking, that I would love to come back next Monday for a couple days while he worked…. Cook, clean, have a set place to plan my Cambodia trip… Then I’d head off Wednesday to Germany? Italy? Croatia?

Could he do that for me? Would he even want such a silly thing? But at the same time I am tempted to keep it just these 2 perfect weekends. Wrapped up in this perfect little concise package.

But I am pretty addicted to his stories, his kindness, his adventurous spirit, his rebelios streak, his bit of a British accent, his German, his knowledge deep and vast on so many subjects.. not just his actions.. Because anyone could do the things he did… it was the fact that it was him that did all those things…

Too much to think about… Too many feelings… Especially since this is my last week of work in Coppet, Switzerland (the 12th) and still have no plans until the 26 and vague idea to run away to Cambodia shortly thereafter…
I love my job and don’t want to leave.. I like having a home base Monday-friday and then the ability to run off for a weekend with a small backpack instead of my big load… maybe I will shed some of my gear before I leave here…

Where to next? Should I book a flight and run away? Germany? Italy? Croatia? Ireland? Or should I hold off and hope for a couple more days of this crazy feeling of safety and happy I found with him?
But for now, I sleep.. and off to work tomorrow.. and let the days wear on and the dreams chug on and we shall see where the stars take me 🙂

“I don’t know where I’m going from here, but I promise it won’t be boring.”
~David Bowie

Your Vibe Attracts Your Tribe

The purpose of human life, No matter who is controlling it, Is to love whoever is around to be loved.
~Kurt Vonnegut

Saturday July 23, 2016
Day 64
Nyon, Switzerland

So, for my first post I need to ramble and rave about Saturday night, day 64 in Nyon, Switzerland.
Paleo Festival.
I managed to nab some tickets from one of the locals that I work with.
I thought to myself, Oh! A music festival! By myself! Where everyone speaks French! Why not!?
Sounded like a perfect situation. A Perfect set up for an interesting night.
And wow.
It was so worth it.
I painted my favorite blue and purple stripes on my cheeks. I stuck my fuzzy panda ears on my head. I wore my favorite hippy/dancing outfit and was off.
It was rainy.
It was muddy.
Everyone spoke French.
Everyone sang in French.
I saw the one and only band that I knew, a duo of long dark haired Frenchmen singing in all their man bun glory. Sweet songs.. or so they sounded.
I later looked up the lyrics and had them translated to my very favorite and fell even more in love with them.
“Le coeur éléphant”by Fréro Delavega
They even crowd surfed right over my head. I touched one. It was 🙂      As I left the front of the stage, my tummy fluttering with happy singing butterflies, I looked up and noticed a brilliant rainbow behind the stage. On the other side, beyond the hills, The sun was setting. The clouds were glowing and the sky was Melting the most glorious sunsety colors together. pink. orange. yellow. gold. purple. blue. Mother Nature’s canvas above my head.

Below my bare feet was the mud. Wet and squishy between my toes.Paleo

I wandered around listening to all the music around me. The beautiful conversations people were having. The laufhted bursting out from the smiles. Friendships blooming as jokes were told and memories were made. The lovers getting closer together. Inch by inch. Minute by minute. The lights flashing and beaming over the happy, dancing crowds.
I danced in this tent and that tent. Made that instant connection with those around me. We caught each other’s eye and gave each other that knowing smile. We were in the moment. We were together for that moment. Sharing the music. The movement. The feeling of getting carried away in the beat.
We swayed and spun and lifted our arms up and shook our heads and hands and hearts to the rhythm.
The music went up and down and the beat went faster and faster the music turned spastic and then slowed with the beat.
As the music ended in each tent, I followed the crowd as we stumbled out in the mud in a state of bliss, still caught up in the feeling.
Later in the night, I remembered the sky above had turned dark and started walking to a hill that overlooked three of the tents so I could look for stars above.
I normally don’t notice strangers in particular. Nor do I usually detect people’s energy.
But as I was walking, I caught the eye of this guy with long hair and a slightly hippy look about him. He seemed to glow in a strange curious way. I continued walking and chanced a glance behind my shoulder… only to discover that he, too had glanced behind to see if I was looking. My head whirled. A strange electricity jolted through my body. A click. Something inside me surged. That was wild.
I continued walking, trying not to think too much of it, and sat on the hill.
Within seconds, the guy emerged from the crowd and strolled up the hill, his intense eyes locked on me. He sat next to me. Another rush of feelings. My skin tingled, hyper aware of his presence.
He spoke very little English. I spoke almost no French.
“I am attracted to your energy. I like your aura. Je t’aime.” he said. “J’adore…”
But the feelings. The vibes. The genuine spiritual love between us.
We talked. Broken English and crappy French. We danced. We shared beers. We went back to that hill. He whispered sweet and sexy things in French into my ear while gently kissing my neck. We looked at the stars and counted how many shooting stats we saw. I saw 4. He saw 5.
I was in Heaven.
Never did I ever think such a wild and beautiful thing could happen to me. Straight out of a movie.
These are the kind of moments I will carry with me forever and ever, close to my heart.
I met a lot of people Saturday night. Connected with them on different levels. I helped some while others helped me. I will never see any of them again. I never got their names, but we had some wonderful moments. Connecting despite language barriers.
But that one dude, I don’t even remember his name, sparked something inside of me that I forgot existed…
Life is beautiful.
I can be loved.
I am worth it.
Nothing really came of that night.
I didn’t get his name. I didn’t get his number.
I didn’t need to.
I had that moment. Sparkling and twinkling and shining in my memory and my heart forever more.