(What) About Me

Here it is. It's coming. It can't be stopped and it's now less than a week away. That tiny little identity crisis in which I can no longer be trendy and call myself a "twenty something." That's right, it's finally here: 30.

NO, I'm not all that worried. I've gotten a lot of questions in the past 360 days about anything I wish I'd have done before "turning." You know, as if 30 is literally the grave (or I change into a werewolf??) and this was it, my last chance to make something of my life. Each time someone has commented, I usually had a retort along the lines of, "Yeah, I mean, on Wednesday I'm going to skip work, snort some coke and go BASE jumping, but after that I'm all set."

Like, what was I supposed to have done in my 20s that I can't do later? Be childish and irresponsible? Pfft, did that* - and plenty of people still do that in their 30s. Looking back on the past decade, I really don't feel like I "missed out" on anything. I mean, sure, regrets? I've had a few. But then again, too few to mention.... IE I did NOT regret all the Frank Sinatra I listened to...

Seriously though, I consider myself very fortunate. I'm skidding into 30 with some wonderful friends and family in my life, a beau who seems generally on board with my madness, a good job, no debt, and a pocketful of experiences (good and bad, at home and abroad) that have helped me smile, learn, and grow. True, it hasn't all gone exactly "to plan" but, sometimes life is more like an IKEA purchase with missing instructions: you'll still end up with a table, even if it's not quite what it looks like on the box, and you'll likely consult the internet along the way to figure out if it seems right but then just say "fuck it" and start guessing til it works.

What's my age again??

BUT, I digress...

What I'm really struggling with is not the actual transition. I'm satisfied with my semi-gray metamorphosis and continuation of general badassery as I launch into the big 3-Oh. What I am struggling with is nailing down an exact "definition" of where I'm at right now. Because, it's probably finally time to update my "About Me" page....

That's right, the About Me for this little blog. That solitary little time capsule of a post. I purposefully wrote it to avoid needing maintenance, over three years ago, and only popped back to read it a few times since. Knowing that this would be the point that it may need sprucing.

A little snapshot. Like a wayback machine for me.

As you can see, it's still my 'voice' overall, but after three years of tinkering on GTTP, I think it's time to refine a bit. OR, maybe not. Maybe that's still just perfectly accurate and I should be thrilled that I'm nothing if not consistent, and accept that really not a lot has changed to my overall personality and that page is still fairly spot on. So for the next week, I'll be racking my brain, deciding on if I need to make changes or if I'm still just me.

To be honest, I don't trust bloggers who constantly update their "About Me" page. Like, who are you and why are you telling me how to live my life if you can't even figure out your own self out? Yes, we all change and evolve (blah blah, good good), but as a whole, when it comes down to your persona, I honestly don't think people change that much. Sure, you may change jobs or cities or relationship statuses, but that's just putting yourself in different place or by different people, your disposition usually remains the same.** At least, after a certain point, you know, like maybe... thirty. 

* And thank goodness I stopped going at that "live it up" pace of my early twenties, or like, I'd probably be dead. Zero sleep, being irresponsible, and borderline alcoholism just aren't sustainable. 

** Unless you're one of those people who just chameleons to whoever is around you and isn't good at having any character of your own. Someone who mirrors and doesn't have any original thoughts/actions. Don't worry, we've all been there before. I tried that out in my twenties... thank goodness those twenties are just a phase! But in the meantime, like... go do you. 

Faroes: Packing Wins and Fails

Now that I have thoroughly ranted about all the amazing adventures in Copenhagen and in the Faroe Islands, both IRL and all over this blog, it's time for a wee bit of retrospective on one of those linchpin things from the trip: our luggage! For a full rave about packing, check out this post on how I fit seven days of stuff into one carry-on. I was glad to have read a lot of packing suggestions before we went, but some just didn't hold water, and others were SPOT on.

When it came down to the stuff I opted to bring along, I had some serious wins, and a few fails...

Things I was happy I brought:

• The number one top thing(s) I brought that I loved: bags!
• Cross body bag was a MUST! It was so easy for carrying around cameras and miscellaneous stuff. It was easy for hiking but could easily be worn to dinner, too. (One doesn't need to pack more than one purse!)
• A reusable grocery bag :
  A) most grocery stores in Europe don't give out bags
  B) it made it easier to move between different hotels: I didn't have to pack up tightly into the carry-on and could just toss extra stuff into the bag to be figured out later
  C) it was a fabulous snack bag
• "Vacuum seal" bag: this was a lifesaver for my sweaters! I was able to pack almost all the sweaters I wanted but still have tons of space in my carry-on for other essentials.
• Lots of extra bags in general : zip locks and just grocery store bags. For stuff like smelly socks and muddy boots, it was nice to have something to wrap that stuff up tight in before storing it for our transatlantic flight.
• Menthol patches : Fun fact, I sit at a desk all day normally. I do not have an extremely "active" lifestyle. So, with a trip that consisted entirely of hiking and tromping about, my bod was a little confused. IE by the last day, I was basically covered in these life saving patches! At the end of a long day, I could slap one of these on a puffy knee or aching back and it was fabulous relief. 
• Paper tape : The beau has used this in the past to prevent his toes from rubbing together while running, to help avoid blisters. I took a page from his playbook and likewise used it to avoid / protect blisters while hiking. It also was awesome for sealing up various snacks we bought (ain't nobody got space for chip clips!).
• Good waterproof hiking boots : Seriously. This was SO essential. I'm glad I invested in a good pair (also, I only got one tiny blister - see paper tape), whereas if I'd have had a shitty pair of shoes, I may have ended up either with perpetual wet socks (I HATE WET SOCKS) or a serious injury. These bad boys kept me dry and stable! 
• A Pen : Europe has a great system with chip credit cards and pin numbers. Unfortunately, our American credit cards don't have pins, so most places we'd still have to sign. This caused much confusion as various vendors and restaurants were like "Uh, you have to sign?" Since it's so uncommon, they'd scramble about looking for a pen. But voila, we had our own! So, BYOP if you want to just speed things up. (Thanks, internet, for this tip!)

Waterproof boots: because the wilderness isn't as dry as Abbey Road!

Things I could've done without:
Luckily the big theme of these all is that they were small things that didn't take up much space. So it wasn't like I filled half my suitcase with unnecessary junk. Go team!

• Waterproof everything : The Fores get approximately 300 days of rain a year. We lucked out and it was perfectly sunny! Since we had heard a lot about the rain and sudden turns in weather, I had packed monsoon gear basically. Waterproof boots, pants, jacket, and even waterproof mascara. While the boots and jacket were still great, the pants and mascara were not necessary at all - and waterproof mascara is just more of a bitch to take off.
• Gloves : Would've been great if it had rained, but it didn't. And it was never too cold - plus my coat had the thumbhole sleeves, so that was good enough.
• That extra hat : It was tiny, so no major foul here but... I brought an additional hat solely for vanity (so every photo wouldn't have me wearing the same exact hat). One hat was more than sufficient. Lesson learned, ego.
• Dramamine : Because I don't know if I even get seasick, and we didn't end up getting to take the ferry anyways.
• PJ pants : For some reason, I imagined I'd be lounging more often? But, obviously I was lying to myself, because when I'm in vacation mode, I get very "don't waste a single second! adventure awaits!" Should've known this trip would be no different and that I'd run us around like crazy as long as the sun was still shining. (Which was approximately 4:30am til 10:30pm every day! Yay for being so far north!) Again, didn't take up much space, and I could have worn them as leggings really, so it's my own fault they went unused. 
• SO many snacks : I'm forever worried about a shortage of food. So while it was nice to have  hiking specific snacks, I didn't need to pack enough food for a small army.
• Plane activities : I brought two sudoku books and my old school mp3 player for the plane. But ended up either talking, sleeping, eating or watching movies the whole time. So neither was really needed. The beau also brought a book (yes, a physical book) that he didn't end up reading at all.
• A few honorable mentions that the beau said he didn't need to pack:
• An extra pair of pants : because boys don't change pants hardly ever!
• A hat : his ears don't funnel the wind like mine do, so for me, my hat was essential - but he never even wore his once.
• Running shorts : since we were getting in so many steps hiking, he didn't have that energy to get up a 5 am to go for a run before our day like he thought he might.

Snack Attack! Mama needs her treats!

Things I wish I had packed:

• MORE SOCKS : Because waterproof boots are great at not letting moisture in, but also kind of trap in sweat. It'd have been nice to swap out socks more often, because, as y'all know, I frickin' hate wet socks.
• Detangling hair spray : Yes, like a child. Do you have any idea what the ocean breeze, on a mountain top, does to one's hair? Let alone having a hat on all day while that wind assaults half your hair?? It's a wonder I'm not completely bald after all the knots of hair I ripped out of my skull every night. 
• A little trinket : In the past, when travelling, sometimes I've taken a little trinket, or a paper heart, or something. A little tchotchke that I could take photos with at various locations to make cute little contingent photos. I was too panicked about packing to remember this time though. 
• Honorable mention from to the beau :: Briefs instead of boxers : something closer fitting to protect the boys when hopping around on rocks, ya know!

Because i just made a list, I can't honestly say "there's not a thing I would change!" about our trip. But I will say that the trip was pretty near perfect, just the same. At some point, you'll get a new series of posts for our next visit to the Faroes, because it is definitely a place I plan to return someday. I already have a little list going of place for next time.... Mykines (I'll be back for you, puffins!); Múli (and the other abandoned settlements in northern Borðoy); the entire island of Suðuroy (with it's awesome sea cliffs); the Kallur Lighthouse and the Kópakonan (aka selkie) statue on Kalsoy... Some day, friends. Some day. And next time, I'll know exactly what to bring along.... 

Copenhagen Round 2: The Denouement

After three absolutely perfect days in the Faroe Islands, and one day of picture-perfect views and heartbreak, it was time for our return to Copenhagen!

Feelin' so fly like a G6...

Saturday

• We thoroughly enjoyed one last Faroese breakfast in our grassy-roofed hotel, and spent some time rearranging what had become rather messy suitcases during our two day stay in Tórshavn, before checking out. After one last quick visit to the harbor and a stop by the post office (the beau's ma collects stamps!), we were back off to Vagar airport - the scene of much heartbreak less than 24 hours prior. 
• En route, we made one quick stop at the lost hamlet of Kvívík - aka the village we couldn't find on our first day because Google thought it was inside a mountain. This time: we found it! And it was awesome. I'd say the beau had to "drag me back to the car," but really he just said "Okay well, I'm going back to the car, we can't linger too long because we have to return the car by xyz time, and if you don't get to the car in a few minutes then I'm going to leave...." and I said "Good, then I can stay forever, bye!" and ran off into the hillside. Typical.

Where in the world is Kvívík? Right there!

• Right near the airport, we stopped alongside the road to explore some old boathouses along Sørvágsvatn and finish up our remaining road-snacks. Since we had to return the car several hours before our flight (so as not to pay the extra day), we were a bit stuck. For a small fee, you can leave your luggage with the tourism office there and go on foot to explore, but I was only able to drag the beau out to sit in the parking lot (which still somehow had stunning views). From there, it was a two second walk through security and several hours as the only people in the gate area. Which meant tons of time to explore the duty-free area! Unfortunately, we had security to go through the next day in Copenhagen, so couldn't smuggle along any Faroese beer (they have one brewery on the islands!).

I try to get one of these photos everywhere we go.
Fun fact: there are very few sewer covers in the Faroes,
and none of them that we saw had any Faroese on them, so...
you'll just have to trust me on this one. 

• After our day in the airport and a flight in which we watched a newly married couple get all the free swag (seriously, should've just invested in Mr and Mrs shirts), we were finally back in Denmark proper.  
• Copenhagen on a Saturday night is a far cry from the chill city vibe we got on Monday night. The downtown was alight with trolleys carrying drunken bachelorette parties, their off pitch  ABBA singalongs echoing in the streets. The bar crowd was spilled over into the streets. And there was a clear lack of regard for OWI when it came to bicycles. Amongst that chaos, we were starved.
• Because I'm all about tourism (and never miss a chance at fireworks), we rapidly checked into our hotel first and then ran to catch the lights and explosions over at Tivoli - the amusement park that Disneyland is based off of. Unfortunately, by the time that was over, almost all the food options were closed. Which means, after a long week of hiking and exhaustion... we opted for a last resort. We got Burger King. 
• We took our Whoppers back to the coolest frickin' hotel: Hotel Alexandra. Upon arrival we claimed our free glass of wine, grabbed our giant brass key from the witty man (Jonas) behind the desk, and had ourselves a picnic on the floor of our room. Each room had a different layout/decor and is furnished with awesome midcentury modern pieces. It is so damn retro chic that I was totally obsessed. Our room was how my dream tiny New York apartment would look. It was perfect.

In an ideal world...

Sunday

• The next morning started early so we could leave the hotel by 9 am to grab breakfast. We headed to the "Next Door Cafe" adorable hipster spot with limited seating (ie we sat on a random bench out on the cobblestoned street), awesome food, and witty / fabulous service (our "table marker" was a rubber duck). It was a good thing we got there early, because it's clearly a hot spot. 

Good Eats.

• Back at the hotel, I did one final recombobulation of my suitcase. Between our two carry-ons, we managed to squeeze in everything we'd bought and all our dirty laundry. As we packed up, there was an unfortunate turn of stomach in which I deeply regretted our adorable glass walled bathroom and made the beau leave for a stint (#traveltruths #burgerking). And then, it was time to leave, we had a plane to catch...
• Not one to miss an opportunity to see a church, I insisted we hop off the metro on our way to the airport and see the Church of Our Saviour. Known for it's iconic helix spire, we'd seen it in the distance throughout our time in Copenhagen. We unfortunately didn't have enough time to climb the winding external staircase up to the top to see the view, but it's definitely on my list for next time!
• At the airport, we made it through the highly efficient security line so fast that we found ourselves with several hours of wait time. If you have to wait anywhere, it may as well be in CPH - the place is HUGE! Their shops and duty-free area were extensive. We both took turns  exploring the massive duty-free shop. Mostly because hauling suitcases around in there would be insane (there are hordes of people literally stockin' up), and because I wanted to surprise the beau by buying him some Danish beer. (Yes, that beer did shake around in my backpack for the next twelve hours as we journeyed home. And yes, I did panic a little about having "nothing to declare" as it sloshed back and forth. But, it all worked out and he was indeed surprised!)
• After putzing around for a good long while, we started to work towards our gate. Only to discover: there was another line. Had we known, we'd have not lollygagged around! This time was an additional passport check - with the EU citizen line flying by, and the rest of us piled up waiting. Following some mild worry on my part,* we were through. In fact, we made it just in time really. So thank goodness I didn't dilly dally longer before realizing there was that extra line!
• With a departure around 4pm Copenhagen time and an arrival back to Chicago around 6pm, we both settled in to stay awake! (NOT TODAY, JET LAG!) This flight had another delicious dinner and a "snack" meal - I was once again stupid impressed by the meals on SAS. We both also had a movie binge. I had enough time to tackle: the newest Maze Runner movie (awful, fast forwarded most of it), The Shape of Water (people were really judgey about what I was watching), and I, Tonya. 

And then, just like that, we were back. Dealing with the insane customs process at O'Hare, chasing after our bus, riding in the sweltering heat back up to Milwaukee, and home. There's no point in pretending that I was happy to be back (sorry, friends and family - no offense!). After such a whirlwind adventure, yes, I was beyond exhausted, but I was also eager for more. Still am. So in the meantime, I'll just keep enjoying the here, until I can go back out and get to the there... 

"I don't wanna go home and you CAN'T MAKE ME!"
she said, stubbornly hiding at the top of a waterfall.

* Because I'm definitely one to jump to conclusions... the beau and I stayed in the same line until we were close to the front and were split into two. My line ended up putting me through very swiftly. Super easy, no issues. So, on the other side of this large glassed off area (with detainment rooms,  security gates, etc.), I waited. And waited. And waited.... And as I stood there waiting, I noticed that there was a specific demographic of other people waiting as well for their loved ones to pass through. I had a horrible flashback to that one episode of the Handmaid's Tale (the one where that Gilmore Girl is at the airport) and started to quietly panic. This was it. This was the moment they started to detain the Jews again... Helllooooo overreaction, it's me, Gina! (But yes, I was already Googling the number for the U.S. Embassy....) 

Faroe Islands Day 4: No Puffins For You!

While I've avoided mentioning it (#toosoon) throughout my posts about the first three days in the Faroe Islands, one of the highlights of our trip was to be slated for day four: I was finally going to get to see PUFFINS. These adorable, derpy birds are absolutely everywhere in guides for the islands. Every tourist lure has a shiny little puffin dangling on the end of it. For MONTHS leading up to our trip, it was my favorite thing to mention. I built up a whole dialogue of hype. "Puffin Watch 2018" I dubbed my quest as, joking on social media for the first several days.

Day four arrived and, spoiler alert: it was the day my puffin dreams went to die. And here was how it came about....

Friday

• After a ridiculously awesome hotel breakfast, we departed for what I labelled our pre-puffin adventure. Map for the morning jaunt can be found here.
• To start the day, I had saved one of the most iconic views. We hopped islands and drove under and ocean and through a mountain to get to the village of Gasadalur to see the Mulafossur Waterfall. For several kilometers of that route, it was apparently field trip day and the one lane (two-way traffic) cliff roads were swarmed with children... Children we almost knocked off said cliff with our car because, like the local sheep, they would not move out of the way. 
• No infant lives were lost, and when we got to our destination: it was just as picturesque as they say. Only a dozen or so people live there, and prior to 2004, you couldn't even reach this area via car. Now that it's accessible: it's a must-see stop! We hiked around for awhile before I got antsy and began our journey south again.

Looking out to Mykines, where my puffins awaited!

• Next up, I really wanted to hike out to see Drangarnir, but since it's such a difficult hike and I knew we'd be going by the gorgeous formation on our ferry ride later, we instead went to Bøur to see it from across the way. Once again we wandered among cute little grass roofed houses, as I quietly jumped for joy that we'd soon be boarding a helicopter to go to the magical puffin island. IE I was so excited that we had to leave, and got to the airport an hour before our flight. 

Eyeing up the dragon rock from the other side.

• And that is when the puffin shit hit the fan...
• As I mentioned previously, there is a fair bit of logistics involved in getting to certain spots. To get to this puffin paradise, the island of Mykines, we were going to helicopter from Vagar airport. Helicopters can only be taken one way (and only fly M-W-F), so we planned to take a ferry back, knowing we'd only have about 2 hours to explore the island, which would be JUST long enough for us to hike to the lighthouse on Mykines and back, allowing even minimal time for all the puffin snuggling/smuggling that I had planned. 
• When we checked in at the airport for our chopper trip, they asked how we planned to get back (since some people forget it's one-way), we explained the ferry we were taking and that we already had tickets. They asked if we knew there was a special fee to hike on Mykines, and we said yes, explaining we'd already purchased that pass as well. We were set. They directed us to watch the helicopter safety video and I ran to the bathroom thirty times as we waited, since I was so excited. A) Neither of us had ever been on a helicopter before and B) it was FINALLY puffin time!
• That's when I began to notice several different groups of people arguing with the desk people, and leaving. So, mere moments before we were to board, I finally got curious and went to the desk to ask what was going on. Fun fact: the ferry back was cancelled. NO announcement was made, there was no indication, and when we called the ferry, they said they were NOT cancelled officially, but had cancelled the last several trips.... the odds were not in our favor. Cue me having a nervous breakdown at the Atlantic Airways counter. 
• Then all the stages of grief kicked in....
• Shock: In which I gestured to the perfect, sunny day outside, I asked why on earth it'd be cancelled. WAVES. Fucking waves. Doesn't matter how beautiful the weather is, the waves can still be jerks and be too rough for a ferry docking on a tiny island with a tiny harbor. There was not the usual rain and storms though, it was perfect out, and we had done everything right. 
• Denial: In which I pleaded with the beau: there was a chance. I mean, the ferry wasn't FOR SURE cancelled. We could risk it - and risk being stuck there and risk missing our flight the next day....
• Anger: In which I yelled at the woman at the counter and she explained that "it's just the way it is" because they're just used to being at the mercy of waves and not having alternative solutions available.
• Bargaining: In which I told the said woman at the counter she would just HAVE to make an exception, and allow us to helicopter back. And in which she told me no, the helicopter back was full because it was carrying the people who'd been stuck their since Wednesday (the day of the last flight) because the ferry had been cancelled every day since.
• Depression: In which I openly sobbed at this poor woman who I was witnessing the full gamut of my breakdown. 
• Lying/Melodrama: Okay, these aren't real stages, but at this point I started telling the beau to just lie to them and convince them to somehow make this happen. Suggestions like, "Tell them you were going to propose on that island, or that I have a terminal illness" came out. I'm not proud, but I don't regret.
• Testing: In which we discussed with a blue haired Instagrammer and her man, who had been trying to get to the island in vain for days. We thought aloud the options with them, but all pointed to too much risk and us likely missing out flight back to Copenhagen, and thus spending an exorbitant amount of money switching flights, after several days of camping (with no equipment / food) on a tiny island. (Not to mention our rental car would end up overdue and our stuff was still back in a hotel in Tórshavn.)
• Acceptance: So... we told them to fly without us, and that we, like the other dozen people who had been counting on that ferry, would not be going to Mykines. There would be NO puffins today.
• Through my tears, I had the beau Google where to find puffins elsewhere. There was one possibility, but we had to hurry. So we dashed to the car and kicked it into high gear. Here's a map of what happened next....
• En route, we booked online for a boat tour in Vestmanna, which lead out to the sea cliffs where many puffins and other birds call home. It was our second chance! We could still see the puffins! We would have just enough time to make the drive and board to catch the last tour of the day, per their website. So when we arrived, the beau ran ahead to get us checked in, while I quickly ran to the restroom. 
• When I came out, I could see him arguing with the woman at the counter, and my heart sank. I knew something was wrong. Fun fact: their website was a lie. They'd decided to leave at a different time today (despite the fact that it LET US BOOK online) and there would be no more boats today. The next one was in the morning - if we tried for it, and the tour ran even a half hour longer than expected, we'd miss our flight... again with the risk. 
• So, I stomped out of the boat house and looked up towards the hills. Cliffs, they'd said. Too difficult to hike to without a guide. Very far. I instructed the beau to drive us to the foot of the mountain.... we were going to climb those damn hills. I was GOING to see my puffins, if it killed me.
• And then we climbed... we climbed and climbed. Til we were at the edge of a cliff. The first cliff of many, with little gorges in between that you'd have to spend hours to hike around. And where were the puffins, you ask? Well. Not on that first cliff. Staring down into the gorge I knew - it just wasn't in the cards. 

Dear Puffins, are you there? It's me, Gina.

• So we left Vestmanna, my puffin hopes dashed, and headed back over the island of Vágar to visit the last iconic location on my list: Sørvágsvatn. It's the largest lake on the islands and feeds into the ocean near Trælanípan, a large cliff area that is only a short hike and towers above the lake. Thanks to this awesome blog, we had the perfect coordinates for parking and details for the hike.

Lake life: only slightly different than lake life in Wisconsin...

• After an emotional roller coaster, the scenic hike along the lake and subsequent dangling off a cliff edge, were just what I needed. It was stunning. We saw more people than normal (since this was an easy hike and close to the airport, it's more visited by tourists probably), and witnessed various photographers go way further to the edge of different areas than we dared. We sat and watched the sun begin to set in the area where lake meets ocean, and it was, dare I say, fucking magical.

Seriously though: lake goals.

• Post-hike, we rushed back to Tórshavn to try and catch dinner somewhere before everything closed. One of the only spots open still (after 10pm) was an Italian restaurant called Toscana. This was one of those meals where we didn't care the cost, we just needed the relaxation of a good meal with a cozy atmosphere. (It was a good thing we didn't care, because it ended up being rather expensive lol) They played nothing but Frank Sinatra music (yas) and we binged on fresh salmon, shellfish, and escargot. Very much worth it. 

It was a day with many very high notes of the trip, and a very low point as well. We missed out on both the helicopter ride and the puffins that we had been talking about for months leading up to the trip, yes, but we also saw some of the most striking views on Vágar. Picture-perfect spots and beautiful walks. A lot of zig-zagging and island hopping during my puffin-conquest, but otherwise just a day of impressive sights. This day, more than any other point in our trip, solidified one fact: when it comes to the Faroes, we'll be back. 

"And they never saw her again..."

For tales of the journey home, pop by my Copenhagen Round 2 post!