Europe

by

A Life By Design

I tend to present my projects as faits accomplis, done deals, except to a chosen few who are cursed with hearing all the details about a plan. I’m not sure why I do it that way. Fear of failure, perhaps? Fear that if I bring my project into the light of day, the universe will strike me down for my pride and put stumbling blocks in my path? Who knows.

There’s a lot going on with me right now that I think I need to share because I have chosen to put my life out there with this blog. I know that I sometimes appeared scattered, jumping from one idea to the next, but I actually do have a plan for my life and it is coming together behind the scenes. I think it’s time to draw the curtain. When things come together for me, they tend to do so very, very quickly and I don’t want to feel that I need to explain myself with any future moves.

I’ll start off by saying that I have always known what I wanted to do with my life: see the world. Travel has always been the constant yearning and everything else has been but a balm on an itch. Science has proven that there is such thing as a wanderlust gene. If you look at my family tree on my mother’s father’s side, you will see the names of some of the greatest explorers in Canadian history. I am hardcoded for wanderlust. It truly is a biological imperative.

It took me a very long time to figure out how to see the world. I can’t count the number of hours I’ve spent tallying up how to pay the rent and the bills and maintain a certain lifestyle while saving up to take two or maybe three weeks, if I was lucky, to go exploring. I took a few trips, most notably to Scotland in 1998, and the more I traveled, the worse my urge became. It actually helped somewhat to not travel and focus on the half of me that is a stereotypical 1950s homemaker.

But then, the door to travel opened for me after my dad died and somehow, with a courage I did not know I had, I stepped into the unknown. Followed some of the most amazing years I will ever have as I traveled the continent on a super tight budget, seeing more of it than I could have ever dreamed of doing on four, even five times the annual income. I thought RVing could be It for me, the way to soothe my wanderlust forever, but, like an addict, I needed a bigger and bigger fix. After just about completing my Canadian and U.S. bucket lists, Mexico beckoned, but was just out of reach.

I thought that spending a few more winters in the U.S. while I continued to get my financial footing before going to Mexico would suit me, so the next logical step in my life was to get a home base. Some permanent travelers have friends or family they can always return to and where they are nearly indefinitely welcome, but that wasn’t the case for me. I had to find my own Haven, and I did. I think I knew deep down as I signed the property transfer papers that my RVing life was winding down, but it took those final two cross-continent journeys to prove it to me. I had an amazing final winter on the road, but the journey to a place I wasn’t even sure I wanted to go was fraught with difficulty… and wonderful encounters with generous people.

I was afraid when I landed here in the spring of 2013, afraid that this was going to be It for me because I couldn’t see a way past being here, and that fear mounted as my summer stretched into a winter and then a second summer. I was financially and emotionally at one of the lowest points in my life and so very weary, but this place renewed me. I knew that I finally had a well of infinite energy from which I could draw, that no matter where my life took me, I could return to this place and emerge renewed.

And sure enough, from my time here, where I could focus on monetary matters, the future became a little clearer. I got the contract that gave me the courage to head for Mexico, and we all know how that turned out (for those who haven’t be reading, Mexico was an amazing fit for me!). That contract did not pan out, so I was left in Mexico with just the contracts I’d had before, which I would never have thought would be enough to sustain me in so bold an endeavour, but I did just fine.

I figured out very early in my RVing life that working for myself was going to be the key to my freedom to see the world and there were a lot of false starts as I figured out what I could do from the road and find enough work to support myself. By the time that big contract came in late February of 2014, I was at my limits. If a big break didn’t come, I was ready to give up and get a job. So while the contract didn’t work out, it came at just the right moment, buying me enough time to get to Mexico and realise that I wasn’t ready to give up all my temporal freedom for the sake of a full-time job. I did consider a part-time summer job in Saskatchewan, however, and that’s rather the mindset I had on my way home last spring. But I’d built up enough of a buffer in Mexico that the urge didn’t feel as pressing as it had a few months prior. I knew I wouldn’t have many distractions this summer and that I could focus on getting better paying work.

Things came together for me as they always do when the time and place are right and my dream job fell into my lap. I still don’t want to say too much about it, but I am working for a company whose founder had the same dreams for his life as I do for mine, and fulfilled them, and so I know that I can always fall back on that if an immediate supervisor who doesn’t understand my lifestyle gives me grief when asking for a modicum of flexibility. In fact, much of what I proofread is relevant to the next step in my life journey and is helping me prepare for it. If that is not proof that I am firmly on my Path, I don’t know what is!

Let me backtrack a bit here to reiterate that when I bought my property, I expected it to eventually be a place I could retire to. I envisioned my future with the resources I had then. I don’t play the ‘if I win the lottery’ game, but plan with what I have and remain flexible if things change.

Well, everything has changed for me this summer because of this new client. I’m really pleased that I pushed the internet thing through as far as I did because it not panning it out was just the kick in the seat that I needed to stop clinging to old ideas I had about my future when so many doors have opened up to me. It’s a really surreal. I feel like I won the lottery without having realised that I was playing all along.

It was only seven years and three months ago that my old financial planner told me to go out into the world and play. He warned me that I would have years of misery as I built my new life, but that he was convinced that I would do better for myself financially than I ever could working my 35 years for the government and that I’d have a life to show for it all. He was absolutely right.

Why remain here in a (beautiful and wonderful!) Canadian backwater when I can work from anywhere? I am too young to be here puttering around and working myself to the bone. My second Mexican winter is upon me (in fact, I will be arriving this day in two months!) and it will be glorious, with all that extra free time and money available to me.

But what of next summer?

Even though my internet situation is greatly improved (and due to be blogged about), the severance has been made. I love this place and it will always be here for me, but it has played its role for the time being. I’m going Somewhere Else for most of the next summer. I need good internet, a time zone difference compatible with work, a super cheap cost of living, and a stable enough political situation. The answer is a country so far off my radar that I didn’t even know where it’s located until I pulled out a map! So here is my first big public announcement after all that bla bla bla: I intend to spend 90 days next summer in Bulgaria.

A decision like that always leads to new discoveries as I do research. Bulgaria is part of the Schengen Agreement, which comprises most European countries. Ninety days would be barely enough to see all of Bulgaria; what if I wanted to stay in Europe instead of coming back to North American so I could try another country? This question led me to the jackpot.

The gold standard in passports is to have one from the European Union. It opens up the entire European continent and all its benefits. It is also very difficult to get one unless you work in a specialized field or marry a national. I have tried for 20 years to figure out how to get myself a European passport short of marrying someone and the answer fell into my lap today. Just like that. It was one of those lightning bolt moments that makes me understand some of the trials I’ve been put through as it makes sense of a lot of my pondering.

Some European countries, like Spain, have a permanent residency scheme and path to citizenship for freelancers, folks with independent income from outside Europe… Of course, there’s a lot of red tape and it’s never as simple as it looks on a website, but the short of it is, you move to Spain as a freelancer, get your permanent residency, and then ten years later, sooner if you meet certain criteria, you become a citizen.

I could do that!

But here is where things get a little interesting. If you are a citizen of a Spanish-speaking country, you can get your Spanish citizenship in about two years rather than ten.

It takes about five years to get Mexican citizenship. On paper, it looks like I could get both Mexican and Spanish citizenship in less time than it would take to get just Spanish. Of course, I’m sure I will encounter tripwires with this idea/plan, but it’s one worth exploring. So discovering that I could get a European passport doesn’t derail at all my plan to get Mexican citizenship.

So from where I’m sitting tonight, with the resources currently available to me, I see myself back at Haven for about three months next year, as bookends to my Bulgaria trip, and then off to Mexico for as long as it takes to get my citizenship. It could mean being in Canada well into the winter as a good part of the permanent resident visa process must be done from your home country. But with the nearest consulate being in Calgary, I’d probably just get a short-term rental there while I deal with the paperwork so I wouldn’t be living in an RV in -40 weather again.

Once I have my Mexican citizenship, the next step would be to move to Spain and repeat the process there. And then? Who knows… I’ll be nearing 50 by then and could, in theory, retire at 55, especially if I choose to base myself in a country with a low cost of living, like Mexico. That will be the beauty of having all these citizenships, that I won’t have to base myself somewhere that I’d have to pay usurious taxes, which eliminates Canada and most of the European Union.

But Haven will always be here. I like the idea of finishing up enough work to have a rentable property here, just for a bit of added income, especially if the oil comes, as we suspect it will. I will always have this port of call in between projects. For instance, if I find that I can’t get everything aligned to go to Mexico right away, it won’t cost me much money to wait here, and the same for going to Europe. I am aware that I need to figure out a modicum of property management while I’m gone, however.

Some or none of this may come to pass. But many more possibilities exist where fewer were before. And long-term blog readers will remember that I talked about RVing till I was about 40 and then taking off to see the rest of the world. So rather than shaking your head at me with my grand ideas, take note that I’m four years ahead of where I thought I’d be… and I have a paid for property, not something I had factored into those dreams. When I want something, I make it happen. So don’t be so surprised next year if I do end up blogging from Sofia!

This was post was edited on November 4th, 2016, to add categories and tags. I am just grinning as I reread it, having come from four months in the Balkans, including 90 days in Bulgaria. I do talk big… but I get things done. 🙂

by

The Winter of My Dirty Feet

Sitting at Charly’s Rock tonight munching on my octopus tacos as I watched the Sea of Cortez, I was flooded with a feeling I couldn’t understand at first. It was overwhelming and I almost choked on it as tears welled up in my eyes and threatened to spill over. I took a deep breath to calm myself and then I knew what it was I was feeling.

If my life was a movie, there would have been a montage running backwards through the last seventeen years of my life ending with me sitting on a bench by Melrose Abbey in Scotland. The feeling was utter oneness with the universe and my place in it. Peace. A certainty that I am exactly where I am supposed to be and that my life is on track.

I’ve always felt that I was being prepared for something. Part of that something was my winter here in Mexico. So many little life lessons all added up to no significant culture shock and an ability to slip so easily into my Mexican routine. I’ve been wanting to come to Mexico for so long, but I was patient and went when going there felt like an inevitability, the most logical and sensible next step in my life.

There is no doubt in my mind that I will be back at Isla this time in seven months. And there is little doubt that I’ll have Mexican residency within the next few years and citizenship within the next decade.

The thing about travel, truly living in a new place instead of just vacationing there, is that it expands your horizons and refashions your worldview. I remember taking a train to Mountainview, California, eight years ago, my first time being in a warm climate, and having a life altering revelation. I didn’t have to keep trying to enjoy winter and cold weather. I could choose something else because there were other options!

Just because I was born in Canada does not mean that I am forced to accept its climate or culture of apathy or exorbitant cost of living. The whole world is open to me and I can choose to live in a climate where I am healthier. Rather than bemoan the status quo and lack of desire to grow as a people, I can choose to live somewhere that is growing into ‘first world’ status and choosing its own path that honours the past while shaping an exciting future. Or I can choose to live outside the first world because I know I can be very happy with very little as long as I have good internet… and just about anywhere in the world has better internet than Canada anyway. And then, there’s my income, barely enough to eke out an existence in Canada, yet sufficient to live well in less developed countries. I might not love what I do, but I love the freedom of schedule it affords me and when I can live somewhere like Mexico where that money buys me a lot of freedom, it really makes me feel stupid to have ever considered giving it all up for a ‘real’ job in Canada.

The life education I gained in the last several years was costly and now I need to focus on paying it all back. I’m grateful that Mexico is relatively close by and will provide me with the stimulation I need I until I can afford to take off and explore the far reaches of our world. I’m also thankful that I found a sliver of Canada that is calling me back, a piece of property that I love and where I don’t feel that my values are compromised. Haven is a blessing and I can honestly say that sad as I am to leave Mexico tomorrow, I am happy to be heading home.

Just think of what lies ahead for me; nearly six months of good weather under the bright blue skies of my beloved Prairies while knowing that my life now is a nearly eternal summer and that I do not have to dread the coming winter. I’ll have a brief spell of cold before I can leave and, soon enough, my feet will be getting reaccustomed to the grit of sand between the toes and forgetting what closed shoes feel like.

For the last seventeen years, this song has been a lament. Fond memories of my Scottish travels were marred by the failures that followed my great adventure across the pond.

Now, I can say, Caledonia, you were the best thing I ever had and I can finally remember you with only joy in my heart and not an ounce of regret.

¡Gracias, Mexico, y hasta noviembre!

by

A Little Cultural Research

I’ve done a lot of research about Mexico over the years, confident in my belief that I’d eventually live there, if only as a snowbird. But now that it’s really real, I’m having a burst of panic thinking that I really need to know things I take for granted in Canada and the US, like tipping and how the currency works, never mind all the cultural etiquette!

My only experience traveling in a country that doesn’t use dollars was a month-long trip to Scotland in 1998. I remember my first night in Edinburgh (third night in Scotland) like it was yesterday. A fellow backpacker, Michael, and I decided to go have dinner together. I ordered penne in a rosé sauce and was shocked to find meat in it (I was a vegetarian back then). But even more clearly than that I remember paying the bill and Michael asking me three times if I really mean to tip what I was tipping. It was only later that night that I realised I’d given a nearly 30% tip on a mediocre meal with poor service! I had a good laugh at myself about it.

This is how I’m going to approach my first trip into Mexico proper (I’m not counting the two trips I’ve taken to border towns). I am going to make mistakes. I will likely get scammed more than once. It’s just part of the experience and I will do my best to keep my sense of humour!

Living in another country that does not use dollars and whose primary language is not French or English has been a major dream of mine. I can’t believe it’s about to come true!

by

Travels Without Miranda, #10: Melrose, Scotland

My month’s journey backpacking around Scotland taught me that there is no reason why I can’t have something I really, really want. I woke up one November morning in 1997 and announced that I was going to Scotland the following summer. I spent six months saving up, and even losing a month’s income to the Ice Storm of ’98 didn’t deter me from my goal.

The most amazing month of my life was drawing to a close when I landed at the youth hostel in Melrose. It was a grand old Victorian house, but it was for the abbey I had come. My month had been one of following the steps of Scotland’s hero William Wallace and one of her kings, Robert the Bruce, and it was at Melrose Abbey that Bruce’s heart was buried.

Melrose youth hostel

Melrose youth hostel

There wasn’t much left to my trip, just a few days. I was due back at work in a week. I was heartsick to be giving up my travels, but excited that my life was about to begin. I was starting university in the fall and would move out on my own, events that made it a little easier to say goodbye to Scotland.

My last night in Melrose I sat on a bench watching the sunset behind the abbey ruins. It is one of those moments of my life that I remember with shattering clarity. It was a perfect moment in time when I knew that I was at the right place and that everything in my life was exactly as it should be. I was flooded with a feeling of peace and well-being and rose from that bench clearheaded and ready to face whatever the future had in stock for me.

Melrose Abbey. The Bench would be just offshot to the right.

Melrose Abbey. The Bench would be just offshot to the right.

It didn’t take long after that for my life to completely derail and I ended up spending the better part of a decade grasping for that perfect moment again.

While I’ve never had such a strong feeling of contentment since hitting the road with Miranda, I’ve had several glimpses of that peace I felt in Melrose. With that reference point in mind, I have been able to identify moments that are completely the opposite, when the universe is shouting at me to get out, to move on, that where I am is the wrongest place I can be. I haven’t shared the full story of what went on in Oliver, but I think that what I didn’t say in my announcement that I was leaving was pretty clear.

by

Glasgow to Montreal

6:51 AM

What a morning! I’ve been tossing and turning since a little past 5! At 6, I said enough! and I got up, showered, packed, etc. Although I’m not hungry, I figure it would be smart to get a bowl of cereal in me. Then, I’ll have to zoom downtown. So far, it looks like I might make the airport for 8:30. I could be there for 8, but I think it would be silly throwing away a free breakfast. Besides, I’m in no real rush, I don’t have to check in until 9. It feels weird to think that ‘tonight’, I’ll be sleeping in my own bed! I’ve put tonight in quote marks because it’ll be tonight in Canada, but very early morning here! The jet lag coming wasn’t too bad, but I hear that going west is worse. It’s like living the same day twice. Anyhoo, tomorrow should be interesting! When I get ‘home’ I want to soak, and wear something I haven’t worn in a month (I had the same three tee-shirts, one sweater, and one everyday pair of pants !).

9:01

I’m all checked in and ready to board at 10:15! It’s incredible: the subway arrived at the same time I did, then I got to the bus stance just as they were getting ready to go. Check in was a breeze, but it would appear that I have to get my luggage in Toronto to clear customs and then get it back on the plane. I’ll figure it out when I get there ! I bought (my uncle) a full litre of ‘Highland Park’ (no smaller size). I figure I might as well get him one I like rather than pick and choose at random. Edradour was more expensive (and not as good!) Turns out ‘Wallace’ is a liqueur made from single malt whiskey. Thanks for nothing, lady!

I just set my watch back to hometime. It’s 4AM there!!! I’ll be in Toronto at 13:15 EST. That’s 9 hours from now ! I have to catch my connecting flight at 15:00. It’s going to be tight!

12:08 EST (from now on, EST)

Despite some minor turbulence, the flight has been smooth. We’re flying over Quebec now. The in-flight movie was ‘Titanic’! Can you believe that the return flight is a whole two hours longer?! Due to winds we’re going to be delayed. Oh well, just so long as I’m on the plane for Montreal at 3!

I am amazed by the quality of the vegetarian (actually vegan) meals offered. Lunch was TOFU served with peppers and rice with bread and fruit salad and crackers for dessert. Our snack (well mine!) was a whole wheat bun with lettuce, tomato, and cucumber with orange juice and a tangerine on the side. Of course, I’ve had tea.

 

It was cool flying over the north(ish) Atlantic while the boat (‘Titanic’) sank (yes, I am morbid!). I can’t believe that movie still makes me cry. The worst/best part is at the end where the photographs are revealed and one sees that Rose has fulfilled all her dreams. Now, my dream has come true. This time around, I shed tears of understanding of the miracle incurred by the realisation of dreams, while the previous two times I wept out of petty jealously. Oh, I am no longer the same person anymore! I’m not even the least bit worried about clearing customs, etc. and making my 3:00 flight! Whatever happens, will happen. I can’t advert my fate. It’s fate, a fate I created that has brought me here. Jack Dawson’s right: ‘Make it count’, live each day. I realise now that each new dawn is full of opportunity and each new day full of adventure. Life can’t be perfect, but this is close!

4:20 pm

I made it!!! We arrived over a half hour late in Toronto, but I had no trouble clearing customs. My handbag had to be opened and rifled through, though, since the x-ray machine picked up something ‘weird’. (I had all my ‘hardware’ in there: clothes pins, miniature grappling hooks, and a pocket knife, among other things. The ‘searcher’ started laughing, she couldn’t believe how prepared I was for any situation!)

Leaving Toronto took forever. We taxied for over 15 minutes, then we had to queue (very Brit. word!) to take off. Now, we’ve landed, but our gate is currently occupied by another aircraft so we’ll have about 8 minutes to wait. (L. Pearson airport, Toronto, was undergoing major renovation, so planes were delayed leaving. The plane at our gate in Montreal was one such plane that had been delayed like ours.) This is the worse thing that’s happened to me since I left a month ago. Poor me!

Right now, it’s supposed to be 9:23 Glasgow time, but I feel on Montreal time. I’ll get back to you in a few hours! The snack this flight was ice cream on a stick. It was funny looking at the business travellers in ties and suits dealing with it!

It’s good, but weird, to be ‘home’. What is the definition of home ? I guess it’s where you understand what makes people tick (in both good and bad sense). It’s where the rhythm of life is so engrained in you as to be unnoticeable to you. It’s where you can ‘go with the flow’ and not have to think about it. I dinna ken, really. But when you’re home, you feel it. And this is home. Not Montreal as such, but Canada, in general. I understand Canadians. I can guess what motivates Scots, but only guess. I don’t know what motivates Canadians, but I do know how they think. I really am a Canadian above all else. These people, a veritable crazy quilt of cultures, are my people. I’m starting to get a sense of identity that I couldn’t see until I left the country and saw other cultures.

That’s it! I went to Scotland in search of myself, and succeeded. I am astounded by that last entry. I had to leave Canada in order to understand what makes me Canadian. I learned valuable lessons on this journey, lessons that will stick with me for ever, and through all my travels.

I know the journal is not always eloquent, but it was jotted down on trains, planes, and buses, while standing in line, or eating dinner. Sometimes, I’d just lean against the corner of a building or plop down on a bench somewhere. It was written during stolen moments of time. I cannot imagine travelling without it.

Thank you for sharing the most incredible adventure of my life with me.