Tag: Hiking

• Duckabush River Trail

  Posted at 5:00 AM by Brittany, on March 1, 2021

  When I first started hiking more consistently in 2014, I spent most of my time exploring the Cascades of Washington State. I dabbled a bit in the Olympics, but not nearly as much as the Cascades. My first consistent hiking partner lived in Seattle, an area much closer to the Cascades, so I would meet him in the city and we would go from there.

  Occasionally he would come to my side of the water where the Olympics are, but we both felt more of a draw towards the Cascades.

  Then my hiking partner moved, I couldn’t find any other willing participants, and I began hiking alone. My mountain range of choice was still the Cascades, because somehow I felt more comfortable hiking there alone. In the beginning of my solo hiking endeavors I spent a lot of time on trails I was already familiar with, but eventually explored some new to me trails as well.

  Fast forward many years, and I have spent more time in the Olympics this past month than I did in all of 2014.

  

  I have managed to weasel my way into a somewhat consistent group of hiking pals, and these adventures have quickly become a highlight of my week. I have recently seen three new areas of the Olympics, places I would never go if I were alone. There is something deep, and vast about the Olympics.

  This isn’t a bad thing, but there is an eerie energy about these mossy trees and muddy trails that give the feeling of complete isolation.

  

  In a group setting the strong sound of a raging river, or the absolute silence of wide open woods is welcomed. Alone, these auditory stimulations are a quick reminder of just how small we are in these endless mountains of trees and terrain. I have shared a few photos from my hikes the last month in previous posts, but today I share a proper trail report.

  The latest mountain adventure took my pals and I to the Duckabush River Trail, a 10.5 mile moderately rated hike deep in the heart of the Olympics. The early bird not only catches the worm, but also catches a good parking spot. Although hiking in the winter months on less populated trails will also help with that. All of the hikes I’ve done the last month have had little to no other humans around for miles.

  I’m stoked to have friends who also believe in the power of an early start, it can be like pulling an abscessed tooth with some people convincing them to get a head start.

  

  

  This trail starts out mostly flat with a bit of a down hill grade, weaving in and out of large lichen covered trees and a few small stream crossings. Despite the fact we were hiking in February, the trail conditions were excellent. Nothing a good pair of waterproof shoes cannot combat. It’s somewhat comical to think I have been hiking for as long as I have, and only recently purchased a pair of waterproof shoes.

  I still wear trail runners though, because I am adamantine with footwear and cannot commit to the extreme discomfort of a hiking boot.

  The weather was moody and wet for the first half of our hike, and despite the trail name there was only a small section that hugged parallel with the river. The terrain was ever-changing and the cooler temps were a welcomed reprieve when we reached some quick, but steep switchbacks bringing us to an expansive view of the valley below.

  I’m much quicker when the external temperature is cold, I give off heat like a personal portable furnace.

  

  

  Our first vantage point was a large rock fit for baby Simba, and we stopped to appreciate the view. After the switchbacks to this rock the trail is moderate again, moving onto the backside of the mountain we had just climbed. Endless rows of burned trees guided us down towards our destination next to the river. We encountered a small amount of snow on the backside of the hike, but nothing my Salomon trail runners couldn’t handle.

  Upon arrival at the river we sat and savored a snack before making the trek back to the car.

  The sit at the river brought my core temperature lower than comfortable, and I was quite chilly as we ate our snacks. As if by the Grace of God when we started our walk back the clouds dispersed and the sun came out to play. We were much quicker on the way back, per usual, and managed to finish the hike in a little over six hours. I appreciate the desire to stop and savor the views along the way, as well as the focus to get back to the car after we’ve seen all there is to see.

  

  

  This group of pals reminds me of the three solid guy friends I hiked with regularly while I was living in Yellowstone, one of which was my absolute savior during those intense but amazing months in the wilderness.

  When the spring and summer months arrive, I plan to spend more time in the Cascades. The sweeping peaks of those mountains are a welcomed challenge, one that will remind me of how fortunate I am to have found a balance in living life with an autoimmune disease. Each day brings forth new challenges, but I have dialed down what I need in order to keep up with these three hooligans, or any others I embark into the mountains with.

  Until then, I will relish in these lowland hikes through the woods of the Olympics. A forest unlike any other I have seen.

  

  Q: Are you a fan of winter hiking?

  

  | 27 Comments Tagged Hiking, Olympic Mountains, PNW, Washington

• Filtering Fear

  Posted at 5:00 AM by Brittany, on February 22, 2021

  I am an anxious person. This is not news, but as I continue to navigate my way through life I continue trying to find the “why” behind my feelings/emotions/behaviors. Fear and anxiety are hardwired into our psychology for good reason – these intuitive emotions help to protect us from dangerous situations. Fear can act as a motivator to prepare us for the unexpected, but fear can also act as a paralytic.

  My fear has somehow evolved over time from a healthy and mindful reminder of my boundaries, to an unkempt field of weeds.

  The thing about me is that while I acknowledge that I am anxious and overly fearful at times, I am also actively working against myself to determine what is real, and what is not. I am quite literally filtering through my fears. What is causing me to feel anxious most of the time is a false reality somehow skewed by my experiences over time. When we try to repress these thoughts or feelings we continue to stay stuck in an unhealthy cycle, making poor choices along the way. When we acknowledge these thoughts or feelings we grow.

  I choose to swim through these thoughts rather than allow them to drown me.

  

  Life experiences play a large role in our mental health, but I truly believe that a significant amount of our dysphoria is reflective of our physical bodies as well. Hormonal imbalances, and digestive distresses are key factors in our mental health. The gut is referred to as our second brain for a reason, the close knit inner workings of our true brain and our guts are very real. What we think we feel, and what we feel we think.

  The reason we feel like we need to rush to the bathroom when we are nervous, or when we feel a pain in our stomach when we are afraid, is all relative to these homeostatic relationships within our bodies.

  I have a borderline obsession with researching the topic of physical and mental health correlations, and the knowledge I have gained has me often wanting to scream the benefits of proper nutrition and lifestyle from the tallest mountain. Sometimes though, these basic humanistic necessities aren’t enough to balance our inner beings, and we need a little help from external sources. My hormones have been out of whack for an unreasonable amount of time, and I recently decided to experiment with a herbal hormone balancing blend.

  I am blown away by the results.

  

  For the first time in what feels like lightyears I feel balanced. I feel stable. I feel less anxious and less “down.” I’m not saying this is a magic bullet, but I do believe in the power of nature helping to bring us back to our factory setting. My mood the last month has been lighter, I have been more sociable, I have been more empathetic, more compassionate. I have been more…whole.

  My fear is still hanging around, but most of the scenarios in which I feel fearful are realistic.

  Examples of appropriate fear I have recently felt are: not wanting to drive in the snow, and challenging the idea of a hike in the snow. Snow and I are not good pals. I once got lost for hours on a hike because of snow, and I have slid too many times on the roads because of snow. Examples of inappropriate fear I have recently felt are: fear of rejection, and wanting to cancel on friends because I fear being a burden. Spoiler alert – a worthy friend will never make you feel like a burden.

  

  With downs come ups, and it feels good to be on the other end of this yo-yo. I know the downs are inevitable, but I’ll take the ups for as long as I can. With the shift in my mood I have had more of a desire to be social, to get out of my comfort bubble of isolation and spend more time with others. I am thankful to have met new pals who enjoy hiking as much as I do, and each “yes” I say when I am invited on a hike helps propel me further forward.

  I turned 32 last week, and while I had big plans of spending every year of my 30’s in Europe, Covid had other plans. Instead I went for a hike with three new pals. A snowy, wet, adventurous, new to me hike. I swear I just turned 30, yet here we are already at 32. The older I get the more I reflect on my life in my 20’s. Somedays I feel I have made zero progress in my life, but each year I make moves in the right direction. I no longer feel the need to “fix” my problems. I am content in diving deep to the roots of what I am feeling.

  The beauty of change.

  

  It’s ok to feel fear. It’s ok to feel anxious. What’s not ok is letting these feelings control you. The beneficial fear is directly related to physical safety, while the rest of it is a result of over thinking, societal conditions, and unresolved trauma from earlier in life. I am finding joy in this process of working through the weeds I have grown in my mind. For so long I have avoided my own mental garden, but how freeing it feels to be so in tune with myself.

  What would happen if we looked at the bigger picture of our lives? If we are feeling more anxious, more fearful, or more down than normal. Are we taking care of our physical body? Have we allowed ourselves to work through any weeds in our minds? Are we spending time with others, in whatever manner works for us with the current state of the world? This is a classic case of what came first, the mental or physical ailments? Small changes in the things we can control have the power to make large changes in the things we cannot.

  I am one year older, but I feel multiple years wiser. I can only imagine this continues to get better as I continue to age.

  

  To anyone out there who feels paralyzed by fear, you are not alone. I challenge you to question the root cause of these feelings, and to filter out what is true and what is conditioned over years of imbalances. Say yes to something that scares you, tell someone how you feel about them, value your worth because you only get one shot at this thing called life.

  We can choose to stay stuck in the shadows, or we can learn to dance in the sun.

  Q: How do you deal with fear?

  

  | 32 Comments Tagged Anxiety, Fear, Hiking, Life, Mental Health

• Pushing Through

  Posted at 5:00 AM by Brittany, on February 2, 2021

  I recently posted a photo on Instagram with a “deep” and somewhat recurring theme for me, something I alluded to in my previous post. The words are ones I have been mulling on for years, but just when I start to lean into these words I get up and run. Typically around the three month mark of being in my hometown, my restless soul is rearing up for another adventure, another escape, another opportunity to outrun my emotions.

  But this time I am still – immobile in the grand scheme of things.

  I realize the reason this theme is so constant for me is because it’s taken me nearly a decade to work through a myriad of life events. I start to dive deep, write a blog post about my feelings, and then I flee before the real work is done. If you’ve been around this space of the internet for a while, you’ll know I’ve shared similar struggles for what feels like lightyears, and I often feel like I am prattling with these posts, but what I wrote on Instagram encompasses what I’ve needed to do for quite some time…

  “Coming back to my hometown is always hard for me. There are emotions and experiences stuck in time here, and when I move away a small part of me is trying to escape them.

  I came back this time because I knew I needed to sit with these feelings, to grieve lost friendships and relationships, to allow myself to fall on my face without the nagging judgmental voice of my ego, and to figure out what I need in order to heal and move forward.

  All of these things are possible anywhere in the world, but I find when I’m off on adventures my focus is elsewhere. So here, in this town I can’t help but feel stagnant and stuck in, I find myself face to face with the same emotions I’m always trying to outrun.

  Call it growth, call it adulting, or simply call it burn out…but I’ve been allowing myself to feel so many things since moving back. It’s not easy, it’s certainly not fun, and there are plenty of times I want to jump in my car and drive far away, but I stay. I stay in these feelings because deep in my heart I know the only way out is through.”

  

  Despite my broken record like posts the last few years, something is different this time. This time I am not running away. I am doing “the work” no matter how uncomfortable it might be. I’ve officially reached the point of no return, and I cannot take this cycle anymore. It’s time to move forward. So I have been spending time with myself in isolation, while also challenging myself to be more social. I struggle with meeting new people, but I know these struggles stem from deep rooted fears most of us experience from childhood.

  I am not great at small talk, the superficial conversations make me uncomfortable and anxious.

  However, I know without these awkward initial engagements with other humans it’s nearly impossible to make friends. So often I dismiss a relationship before it even begins because I hold out for those rare people I click with immediately. I crave long, deep, vulnerable conversations with people who listen and who share parts of their brokenness few others have seen. I’ve only had a few of those people cross my path within the last decade, and as much as I wish all friendships could start this way I do believe some friendships flourish after time.

  Unless you’re an animal. I will forever be the introvert in the corner with the animals. 

  

  Side note: I bought my cat a handmade wool cat cave…and I feel great joy every time he goes inside.

  One of the reasons I chose my current job was because I knew it would be a place of comity, filled with people who like to hike, explore, bike, and whatever else we can get into outside. Despite the common interests in activities like hiking, I still feel anxious when committing to spending time with my coworkers outside of work. Typically when I decide to push myself out of my comfort zone I move across the country…or the world…but right now I am pushing myself to be more social close to home.

  Meeting new people is a crucial part of my healing journey, and it will be impossible for me to rewrite the narratives I have about myself without putting myself out there. 

  I recently went on two hikes with two separate groups of people from work, and both excursions were good not only for my mind and my body, but also for my soul. The first hike I embarked on was one I have done many times before. In fact this used to be one of my favorite solo hikes, making it somewhat ironic I decided to hike this with three other people. While I am not usually a fan of larger groups, having more than one “new” person makes it a bit less overwhelming for me.

  

  I am very picky with my friends, but once I feel comfortable with someone I am an open book. Truthfully I can be an open book right off the bat, if only someone shows a genuine interest. For so much of my life I have been around people who don’t show interest in what I have to say, or they listen just to reply. This has conditioned me to keep to myself, but it has also allowed me to appreciate those special souls I meet who want to hear what I have to say.

  This aversion to other humans is something I have struggled with since the endless gaslighting of a previous relationship, causing me to question everything about myself. 

  This old hike with new friends was a nice push for me to get outside and start breaking open my shell of introversion. The only way to become more comfortable with discomfort is to continue pushing through. Four days later, I agreed to another hike with three guys I work with. This adventure ended up being a full day – 12 miles through mud, snow, flooded trail sections, many downed trees, and it was a blast.

  

  I tend to get along with people of all ages, but I don’t have many friends my own age. I attribute this to the fact I continue to flounder in life while most people my age have “careers.” What I love about my job is the employees range from 18 all the way to late 60’s/70’s. The first group I hiked with I was the youngest, the second I was the oldest, and yet both times were enjoyable for different reasons.

  My soul tends to connect with fellow old souls, and I have discovered physical age has nothing to do with the age of our souls.

  

  As I continue to grow and push myself towards personal melioration I find comfort in the discomfort. Each time my throat tightens up before a night filled with tears, when my chest aches at the thought of a lost love, or when I let go of the obsessive control over my body and what I eat, I feel oddly comforted. I know in these times of pain there is a future of flourishing.

  How joyful we could be as humans if we only took the time to work through our brokenness.

  I’m writing this post to say I am in a place of comfortable discomfort. I don’t know if that makes sense, but despite the underlying anxiety I feel most days, I know I am where I’m meant to be at this moment in time. I am enjoying meeting new people, destroying the false narratives in my mind, and finally allowing moments of the past and present to work their way through my mind. It’s amazing what we can discover if we only take a moment to put away the distractions of life and press the pause button.

  

  So here’s to pushing through. Through the discomfort, through the sadness, through the joy, through the laughter, and through the pain. Being human is one wild ride, but what a blessing it is to have the freedom to explore who we are, and what we need. One step, one day, one minute at a time.

  Q: How are you taking time for yourself lately?

  

  | 23 Comments Tagged Hiking, Life, Reflection

• Tre Cime di Lavaredo

  Posted at 5:00 AM by Brittany, on September 30, 2020

  Three years ago I wrote a post about the time I visited the Cliffs of Moher, a place I had once seen in a photograph and immediately became enamored by. Today I am going to share another location I finally had the chance to see in real time after seeing a photograph many years prior. I don’t remember the first photo I saw of the Italian Dolomites, but I remember seeing the jagged rocks and lush green valleys knowing I had to visit.

  I’m sad to say I lived in southern Germany (THREE hours away from the Dolomites) for nearly two years, and it wasn’t until the very end of my time that I made the Dolomites a priority. I moved back to Washington two Fridays ago (a sudden decision to leave a week earlier than planned), but not before squeezing in a long awaited (and definitely not the last) trip to the Dolomites.

  

  

  My last day of work was 09 Sept, and my favorite travel pal MaryBeth and I rented a car on 11 Sept and set off for a weekend away in Italy. The Dolomites are huge, and I had no idea where to begin, so I chose one of the most popular trails for an introduction to the Dolomites. The Tre Cime di Lavaredo loop is walked by many, but for good reason.

  The ever-changing landscape truly showcases a little bit of everything. I am amazed by the beauty of these Italian Alps.

  MaryBeth and I chose a quaint hotel to stay at within a 30 minute drive to our hike of choice. We chose this hotel because of the free breakfast, which did not disappoint. Due to our friend Covid, breakfast wasn’t buffet style like the photos implied, but this was probably for the best. Too many chocolate croissants and I’d have to be rolled up the mountain, but boy is there something magical about Italian espresso and a chocolate croissant. We arrived on Friday early enough to settle in, and to prepare for our full day of exploring.

  

  

  After our breakfast on Saturday we made our way to the trail head. The drive was about 30 minutes, and thanks to my prior research I was prepared for the 30 euro toll fee in order to drive the road to the trail. I assume this has to do with the popularity of the trail, but if you really don’t want to pay the fee you can park and walk (or take a bus.) I typically entertain the idea of walking, but I’m thankful we didn’t.

  This would have been a rough end to our hike.

  We began our trek around 0945, after a handful of minutes searching for the clockwise entrance to the trail head. I had read to follow the trail in the opposite direction than most because the views are better. I couldn’t find the trail, so we decided to walk the traditional route. After completing the loop I can agree the views would have been better going the opposite way, but at the end of the day the views are amazing regardless. I realized after we finished the hike that we had parked right next to the opposite end of the trail where I would have wanted to start. So close.

  

  

  The beginning of this trail starts flat, a casual walk along the base of the above pictured peaks. If you look closely you can see humans scattered along the trail, something we had to maneuver around the entirety of the hike. Usually when I hike on a trail that is covered with people I get irritated, but this trail is too beautiful to care. It’s unavoidable. After a short while we arrived at our first of many forks in the road, and our first of many mountain huts along the way. From here we continued on the trail, taking the quick, but steep route to our first vantage point.

  

  

  After our first wee climb, we stopped at the top of the hill to savor the views below. From here we could see our next destination, a hut off in the distance with a taste of home name. The Dolomites are so close to Germany, that everything in the area is in both Italian and German. Tre Cime is also known as Drei Zinnen, which both translate to three peaks. Our next destination on the loop was to the Drei Zinnen Hütte.

  

  As we began approaching the hut, we heard a man speaking over a loud speaker. MaryBeth heard the man say something about a man from France, and first place, from which we deduced there was a mountain race going on! I absolutely love watching people run, and the predominant demographic of these mountain runners were over the age of 50, and a lot of them were women. To say I was inspired is an understatement.

  We sat to watch the runners, and soaked up the infectious energy near the hut for a bit, all the while we savored the stunning view of the surrounding alpine lakes. 

  

  

  Upon arrival at the Drei Zinnen Hütte coming from a counterclockwise loop (the popular route) is where we found the first real expansive view of the three peaks in all their glory. I am not a climber, and I don’t think I ever will be (my few experiences on very thin and sketchy trails have proven this to me), but I can only imagine what the views are like from the tops of those peaks. The weather was perfect this day, a mix of sun and slight overcast.

  

  

  

  After admiring the superhumans running up this mountain, we began our descent down into the valley to bring our loop towards a circle. We took our time the entirety of this hike to ensure we soaked up as much of the view as possible. The route isn’t overly difficult to follow, but I was glad to have read a few blogs in order to know which route to follow. The trails branch off in multiple directions, but I knew as long as the three peaks were close on our left we were on the right path.

  

  

  

  The elevation changes on this trail aren’t anything to write home about, but the final stretch did have a decent dip down followed by an equally decent incline. MaryBeth was wearing shoes that were hurting her feet, and I was wearing Teva sandals. My choice of footwear was mostly due to the fact I didn’t want to buy new shoes right before I was leaving, and slightly due to the fact I like to test my boundaries when it comes to exploring in those sandals.

  There were a few moments I clung to the inner edge of the trail just to avoid slipping, but overall the trail was moderate. I do not regret my choice of footwear, and if I had to do it again I would. 

  

  

  

  From here the trail was chill the remainder of the way. Overall the entirety of the loop is just over 6 miles, but with all of our stops and savors we didn’t get back to our car until 15:30, around six hours later. I could not have asked for a better introduction to the Dolomites, this day was absolutely perfect. The end of our hike showcased why walking the trail clockwise would have been a more expansive view.

  

  

  

  

  

  

  We arrived back at our hotel to shower and rest before heading out for a meal of gnocchi and pizza (and wine for MB!) Can you really go to Italy without having any or all of those? I think not. I will daydream of this final European adventure (for now) for months to come. My decision to move back to America was not an easy one, but for the time being was the right one.

  I don’t know what’s next for me, but I do know I’ll be back to the Dolomites as soon as I can. 

  

  Q: What’s one place you are dying to visit after seeing a photograph of the location? 

  

  | 20 Comments Tagged Brittanys Life Abroad, Dolomites, Hiking, Italy

• Austrian Alpine Lakes

  Posted at 2:00 PM by Brittany, on July 29, 2020

  Back in 2015 when I started hiking regularly, I fell in love with alpine lake hikes (this one is my all time favorite.) In order for a lake to be considered “alpine” it must be above a certain elevation (somewhere around 5000 feet, or 1524 meters), and is often fed by mountain runoff. In Washington where I am from, these alpine lake hikes start close to sea level, which means it’s quite a climb to see them.

  Anyone can visit a regular lake, but you have to work to see an alpine lake. 

  Here in the Alps there are cable cars to help cut off some of the climbing, but the assistance in reaching an alpine lake doesn’t make the journey any less spectacular. Last summer I was introduced to two lakes in northern Austria very close to where I live, and I had been daydreaming about seeing them ever since. I finally made plans to spend a day in the mountains, and it was a day I won’t soon forget.

  

  These two lakes are within the same hiking region on the Meininger Mountain range in Ehrwald Austria. I have ridden my bike to Ehrwald a couple times, and I originally thought about biking to Ehrwald, hiking to the lakes, and biking back. This brief psychotic episode was short lived thankfully, because that would have been rough.

  Instead I took a train (with my bike) to Ehrwald (saving an hour and a half of uphill biking), biked to the cable car where my pal Galiya and I took the cable car up the mountain (saving two hours of hiking) and began our journey to lake number one around 10:30.

  First stop: Seebensee.

  

  

  The views on our way to the lake reminded me of the Swiss Alps, and were far more expansive than any of the hikes I have done in Bavaria just next-door. I couldn’t believe I waited so long to experience Austria in this way. The mountains kept going, and around each corner was a new view unlike anything we’d passed earlier in the day.

  It took us about 1.25 hours to make our way to Seebensee, and the terrain was doable for any hiker. I was out of breath a few times, only because Galiya and I were speed walking. After necking it back to enjoy the journey we fell into a comfortable pace. Once we arrived at Seebensee we found ourselves surrounded by other humans, and rightfully so – the lake is gorgeous.

  We also found ourselves surrounded by lots of alpine cows. My favorite!

  

  

  The weather was starting to get quite warm, and I was relating on a personal level to that cookies and creme cow in the above photo. Galiya and I brought our bathing suits so we could dip our overheated bodies into the lake, but we decided to save our plunge for lake number two.

  Second stop: Drachensee.

  The climb to Drachensee was more intense than the walk to Seebensee. This required over 300M of climbing in a short span of earth. We started the climb around noon (aka the peak heat of the day), and my body was definitely feeling the burn (inside and out.) I took my time, and stopped to savor the view of Seebensee a handful of times while I let my heart rate calm down.

  

  What I love most about hiking in Europe, aside from the jaw dropping views, is the diversity among hikers. People of all ages and shapes come out to hike, and everyone goes at their own pace. I saw more people over the age of 50 hiking to Drachensee than I saw people my age or younger. It’s not only motivational, but inspirational! I strive to live a life that will allow me to continue hiking well into my 60’s and even my 70’s!

  We took about 30 minutes to climb the switchbacked hill up to Drachensee, and at the top of this hill lives the Coburger Hütte – a mountain hut where most people stop to savor a bit or a brew. Galiya and I skipped the crowded hut and continued the final few minutes down to Drachensee.

  

  We had every intention of swimming in this lake, until we arrived. Drachensee is a beauty of a lake, but her inner core disappears into a thick darkness hiding whatever lives under the surface (Drachensee = dragon lake.) I don’t like swimming in water where I cannot see what is underneath me, and I have self diagnosed myself with Thalassophobia.

  Side note: this Buzzfeed article made me want to vomit and I could not finish looking at the photos! 

  The deal breaker for me was seeing a large pipe leading into the lake from the shore, and almost immediately disappearing into the darkness. Nope, nope, nope. Instead we sat around the shore of the lake where little to no other humans were, ate a snack, and savored the view while our core temperatures cooled off naturally from lack of movement.

  

  The trails surrounding Drachensee are seemingly endless, for more intense hikers and even climbers there are routes that continue onto the peaks above the lake. There is a Klettersteig route as well, but I like living so I opted for the lake as my “summit.” We planned to go for a swim in Seebensee after avoiding being sucked into the dragons lair of Drachensee, and began our descent back down to our first stop.

  Initially I couldn’t figure out why no one was swimming in either of these lakes. When the sun is strong and people are out hiking, it’s hard to find a spot to set up and swim because everyone is out swimming. I was worried all these German speakers knew something we didn’t, but we decided to go for it anyway.

  I quickly discovered why no one was swimming. 

  

  This icy blue water was just that – icy! The moment I stepped my toes into the water I was met with an overwhelming surge of cold. I slowly continued to wade deeper into the water, hooting and hollering the entire way. Had it not been for my feet slipping on the algae covered rocks I likely would have taken much longer to submerge my body.

  I then went in and out of the lake three times. I guess I was a sucker for the pain. Overall it was my feet and hands that suffered the most. I could have kept my core in that water for much longer. After cooling off our internal heaters we sat on the grass next to the lake watching small human specks walk across the mountain peaks surrounding us.

  We were in the middle of a cow party, and had a handful of cows come to see what we were up to. 

  

  As we dried off and reclothed, we made our way back towards the cable car to start our journey back home. Not before stopping at the Seebenalm for a bite to eat and a chat with a tiny human. A small boy came and sat with us as we ate our food and I proceeded to make him count in German for us (he spoke to us non stop in German, but I only understood 1/10 of what he was saying.)

  He was such a sweet and pure soul. 

  

  

  Our original plan was to bike back home (it’s mostly downhill), but after a full day of hiking (we managed ten miles) we decided to train back home. We made it back down off the mountain at 1700 – 6.5 hours later! It’s days like this that make it really, really hard to leave Europe.

  

  Q: Does swimming in bodies of water without a clear view of what’s below you scare you too?

  

  | 29 Comments Tagged Alpine Lake, Austria, Brittanys Life Abroad, Hiking

• Wandering and Pondering

  Posted at 2:00 PM by Brittany, on July 13, 2020

  Since returning to work full time on 15 June, I haven’t done many outdoor activities. My first few weeks back to working full time were rough. It’s amazing how quickly your body adjusts to not being on your feet all day, and at the end of my work days I was useless. My days off were spent resting, or doing something low key.

  My body has since readjusted to working full time, but I still opt for chill after work adventures – if any at all.

  I haven’t hiked much since I finally summited the Kramer at the end of May. The bigger hikes take more planning, and my body has to be in a specific condition for me to succeed, but one mountain I can always count on even when I feel less than 100% is the Eckbauer. Although I never feel 100%, but you get the idea. 

  

  The Eckbauer is the perfect balance of “I need to move because I feel like a slob,” and “but I don’t want to do anything crazy.” The elevation of this summit is a mere 1237m (4058ft) with a gain of 529m (1736ft). Just enough of a sweat – an hour of a climb, without feeling destroyed at the end. At the top of the Eckbauer there is a Hütte if you fancy a bite or a beer.

  This hike is arguably one of my favorite views for minimal work. 

  

  

  The Eckbauer is right next to the Olympic Ski Stadium, where the 1936 Winter Olympics were held. Before the Olympics, the town of Garmisch (where I live) and the next door town of Partenkirchen were separate entities. They did not associate as a unit. That was until Hitler decided he wanted to have the Olympics in little ol’ Garmisch.

  Garmisch alone was too small for something as monumental as the Olympics, and Hitler decided to combine the two towns into one. While each town is still individually referred to by their original names, the technical name for the entire area is Garmisch-Partenkirchen. But don’t ever go into Partenkirchen and call it Garmisch, the older locals still value their separation.

  

  I love history.

  Another small hike (more of a mountain walk) I did last month was on the Kramerplateauweg, which I have walked on manyyyyy times. I normally wouldn’t blog about this because I have done it so many times, however this time was different.

  

  Spring and summer time means animal time on the mountains surrounding Garmisch. What this means is the cows, goats, and sheep come out to play. The farmers in the area have spots of land on some of these mountains for their livestock to roam, and for weeks I saw a small patch of white specks on the Kramer from my room.

  These specks made loud bell clangs that carried throughout the valley, and I knew they must be sheep. While I was on my walk this day, I found my way into the open field of sheep and it was like walking into Narnia. I didn’t seek the sheep, but suddenly there they were, and suddenly my life had a kind of meaning I didn’t know it was missing.

  

  I admit there were a few times the sheep came walking towards me briskly, and it scared me. They were just curious and wanting to say hello, but anytime an animal with teeth approaches me, aggressive or not, I get a bit freaked. They just wanted to know if I came baring gifts in the form of food, but I sadly disappointed them.

  I sat with these sheep listening to the comforting clangs of their bells for about ten minutes before heading back down to my bike. This was an unexpected, but wonderful surprise. I find such joy in the sounds and smells of farmland. I know that sounds bizarre, but it reminds me of the simpler times of open rolling hills in Ireland.

  

  One more notable post work adventure I embarked on last month was to Badersee – a very small lake in Grainau. Grainau is the next town over from Garmisch (opposite of Partenkirchen), and I ride my bike here often when I want to shake out my legs. These backyard quickies are such great options for movement after work, or just on days I don’t feel like committing to a long bike ride.

  A quick 15 minute ride, an even quicker 10 minute walk through the woods, and Badersee provides a breathtaking view. 

  

  

  I live in an amazingly beautiful place of the world, and the thought of leaving brings a physical ache to my heart. I feel the heavy throbs of sadness every time I think about it, and unfortunately I have been thinking about it a lot lately. My time here is coming to an end, but if I had come here with a significant other I could probably stay forever.

  Alas, I have struggled with my job for a while now, and I have already stayed longer than I planned simply because I am head over heels in love with Bavaria.

  My plan is to leave at the end of September, but I know this will be like pulling a rotten tooth without anesthesia – painful, but necessary. I would love to stay in Germany, and there are other options for jobs, but there is a small piece of my heart that tells me this is not the time. I am trying to balance my heart and my mind, and I am trying to trust that God has a plan for me I do not yet see.

  I knew when I came to Germany my time here would be ephemeral in the grand scheme of life. 

  

  

  Sometimes I daydream about truly diving into the German culture, learning more German (Mein Deutsch ist nicht gut), making friends with the locals, and completely overhauling my life. Then I think about my cat, and my family and something stops me every time. Change is something I have always struggled with, which is ironic for someone who has enjoyed working seasonal jobs the last three years.

  This job has been different, I will have been here just under two years, which is a significant chunk of time. The longer the time, the harder the change. Life here is nothing like it was when I first arrived though, and I sense the need to move on. As much as it physically pains me to say. I have become increasingly more lonely the last few months, as my core group of friends has left.

  This might seem contradicting as I have posted about fun friend adventures, but those are brief weekends among months of loneliness. 

  

  I have only just begun to open the can of worms that is self healing from past trauma, and this adventure has been amazing, but it’s time to put more focus and energy into healing my spirit, mind, and body. I have also noticed with the return of my period, my emotions are out of control for one to two weeks of the month.

  I’m talking really dark headspace.

  Once the PMS weeks are over, my loneliness calms down, my body feels better, and I feel more intrigued by pursuing life in Europe with a different job. Is this the change I need? It’s hard to say, I don’t know which way is up and which way is down right now. Part of me does not want to come back to America, but I also feel very out of balance right now.

  

  One thing is for certain – I cannot keep working, and living where I am. It is not healthy for me in any way, shape, or form. I must prioritize quality friendships ASAP. I will leave it at this for now as I reminisce on my June jaunts, and as I daydream about all the adventures I hope to embark on before I leave beautiful Bavaria.

  Q: Have you recently made a difficult change that you knew was necessary?

  

  | 13 Comments Tagged Brittanys Life Abroad, Garmisch, Germany, Hiking

• Kamikaze Kramer

  Posted at 2:00 PM by Brittany, on June 18, 2020

  Kamikaze – “having or showing reckless disregard for safety or personal welfare.”

  Yea, that sounds about right. Where do I even being…

  Last September, my friend (and former roommate) MaryBeth and I decided to hike one of the mountains behind where we live. As I mentioned in this post, I had been eyeing this mountain since the day I arrived so we decided it was finally time. If you read the post I linked, you will know our attempt was unsuccessful, so we decided to try summiting the mountain from the other side – hoping it would be less scary.

  Spoiler: It was not.

  

  Cross marks the summit.

  I’ll start from the beginning. The day we gave the Kramer a second chance was beautiful. The sun was shining, the temperatures were warm, and it was a complete 180 in weather from our first attempt. I was feeling good, my body was ready, and I was excited to see a new to me route (the Kramer literally has never ending trails.)

  The route we chose this time was a bit longer in distance, but was supposed to be less sketchy once closer to the top. This route also has a well known Hütte called Stepbergalm a little over halfway up, and we had both been wanting to see it/grab a bite or a drink. The day we hiked was the day the Hütte reopened after temporary closure due to the Coronavirus.

  Everything was lining up – it was going to be a great day…

  

  Stepbergalm – 1592 m

  

  The hike to the Stepbergalm took us about 2 hours and 20 minutes. The trail up was beautiful and moderately inclined. I never felt unsafe, and my anxiety was low. I was smiling, and singing, and relishing in the beauty of the mountains surrounding me.

  

  I was also savoring this time with MaryBeth. I knew she would be moving out soon, and this was likely our last hike together in Garmisch. She moved to Ulm a couple weeks after this hike, which is just a short two hour-ish train ride from Garmisch. I plan to visit her before I move back to the states, and hope for one more weekend getaway together.

  

  

  MaryBeth was nothing short of a blessing to me while living in Germany. She was not only my roommate, but my best friend. She got me through difficult times at work, difficult times at “home,” and was an all around amazing adventure partner. We managed to travel to six countries together, and I know we will be travel buddies for life.

  Divagations aside, back to the story.

  Upon arrival at the Stepbergalm, we sat and savored a snack before completing the final push towards the cross at the summit. The estimated time to the summit was an hour and 45 minutes from the Stepbergalm. I was still feeling great, and was confident we would summit with ease.

  And thennnn the rocks got larger and looser and I suddenly regretted denying the use of hiking poles. 

  

  This guy died on my birthday in 1930 – is this some kind of bad omen?

  Going up with loose rock isn’t usually an issue, it’s coming back down that makes me nervous. Naturally when going up, all I can think about is how stressful it will be to come back down. We reached a section of the trail that was surrounded by trees without any sudden drop offs, so imminent death was not a concern, but I was still getting anxious.

  We passed the section of large loose rocks and falsely believed we were in the clear. The path flattened out for a bit, and although the trail was thin, it was stable. We began laughing again, we settled into a comfortable pace, we savored the views we were starting to see, but then as quickly as it returned my ataraxia was swept back under the rug.

  

  

  

  We saw the cross off in the distance, but something in my gut told me this was not going to be a cake walk to the summit. The slim path was now becoming a roller coaster like track of ups and downs and the loose gravel was back. I suddenly became very aware of how high I was, and how unsafe I was starting to feel. Kamikaze Kramer.

  We quickly learned it didn’t matter which route we took to the top, they were all equipped with a frightening trail towards the final push. Our pace slowed to a crawl, and at one point I was literally immobile, clinging to a large rock. I began laughing, similar to the beginning stages of hysteria, and told MaryBeth I wasn’t sure I could keep moving.

  

  

  I managed to push past my rock of safety, but my body was shaking as if I had spent all night out in the cold. I don’t often feel this amount of fear when I am hiking, but all I could think about was how one wrong step would send me slipping, and the exiguous trail left me envisioning the worst.

  And then, just when we thought it couldn’t get any worse we saw her. The sheer rock wall to the summit. Fully equipped with loose gravel. The summit was surrounded by people, and I wondered if any of them had to revert back to infancy like MaryBeth and I while crawling up the side of a mountain.

  I could feel the eyes of those at the summit watching me move at the pace of a sloth, and I wondered if they could sense my fear. If we had been a different species of animal they would have been able to smell my freight from miles away.

  

  We decided to skip the sheer rock wall, and promptly sat at the base of the final stretch. I once again had no desire to “touch the cross” indicating I reached the summit. We had reached the elevation of the summit, and as far as I am concerned we summited. We sat at the base of the cross for a good ten minutes anticipating the descent.

  We sat at the base of the cross because we were both too fearful to move back down what we had just gone up. 

  I prayed for us (yeah, we were that scared) and off we went. I scooted on my butt for the portion of the trail that has a sharp drop with loose rocks, and when I found my way back to my rock of safety I felt relief. I struggled more going up, and MaryBeth struggled more going down. She became immobile at one point, but eventually mustered the courage to continue.

  

  We finally made it back to the first sketchy path just past the Stepbergalm and after seeing the summit I no longer thought this area was sketchy. My perspective was immediately altered. We made it to the Stepbergalm just as they were closing, and our hopes of having a post hike drink blew away with the wind between the trees.

  We sat on the hill by the Stepbergalm to eat some food, and to mentally prepare for the two and a half hours of hiking we had left. 

  

  At this point I managed to switch my laughter from hysterical to “what the hell did we just do.” I couldn’t help but wonder why no one else I’ve spoken to has been phased by the sketchiness of the summit. Were we the only two people to find this hike terrifying at the top? I never realized how afraid of heights I was until this hike.

  Needless to say, I will never hike this mountain again, and I no longer have a desire to hike the Zugspitze (Germanys tallest mountain, which is also in my backyard.) I have realized my preferred hiking is the kind where I don’t feel my life is in danger. I don’t enjoy kamikaze hiking!

  Most people wouldn’t be as dramatic as I have been in this post, but these were my feelings throughout this hike. 

  

  The views from the “safe” part near the summit were mind-blowing, and the valley where the Stepbergalm lives is like something out of the Sound of Music. I would happily hike to the Stepbergalm again, just to sit and savor the valley, but 10/10 would not do the summit ever again.

  As I get older I have become more in tune with my intuition and my “gut voice” when I feel unsafe. This hike had my gut doing backflips like a gold medal gymnast, and I was happy to skip the last 5 minutes of this hike. I regret nothing, and this is now a comical memory I become overly dramatic about when discussing with my peers.

  I’ll never forget the Kamikaze Kramer.

  Q: Would you need to go right next to the cross to consider this a summit, or would you still feel you completed the hike without the final few steps?

  

  | 29 Comments Tagged Bavaria, Brittanys Life Abroad, Hiking, Kramer

• Hiking From Germany to Austria

  Posted at 2:00 PM by Brittany, on May 14, 2020

  I have driven to Austria from Germany many times, I have even biked to Austria from Germany twice, it only made sense the next step would be hiking to Austria from Germany. I don’t know where the bursts of energy came from for me, aside from the fact I have been diligent in keeping my carb intake balanced, but just a couple days after my long bike ride my roommate and I went for a long hike.

  

  I had wanted to hike to the Hochthörle Hütte since I first head about it last summer. I knew there was a trail along the base of Lake Eibsee so when my roommate asked me if I wanted to go for a hike on her day off I immediately knew where I wanted to go.

  

  View of lake from above.

  I assumed the trail (from where we live) would take us TO the lake, where we would then look for the trail up the mountain, however the trail we took never took us down to the lake. The trail instead continued to climb around the lake. I didn’t mind this, as I felt we were saving time avoiding going down just to go back up.

  

  

  Everything was fine and dandy for the first few hours, it was a beautiful day and we were seeing a new view of the lake. Energy was good, spirits were high, and the views along the way were continually changing. My roommate MaryBeth is my favorite person to hike with, and I always feel relaxed when we’re together.

  I felt relaxed 99% of the time of this hike, until the terrain changed. 

  

  Unexpectedly, with the flip of a switch, we hit the white blankets of death. I made the same mistake last April of thinking the snow would all be melted, but we’re in the middle of the Bavarian Alps…how could I make this same mistake twice? I assumed the elevation of this hike would be low enough to avoid any snow, but I was mistaken.

  The snow wasn’t immobilizing, but it was deep in some spots. One wrong step sent us slipping knee deep into icy sharp snow. I now have a scar on my calf from this hike! We had already been hiking for around four hours, and were very close to the Hütte, so we didn’t dare turn around now just because of the snow.

  

  Our spirits were still high, and we were determined to make it to the Hütte (by this time we were already in Austria, the Hütte is just on the other side of an invisible border.) The snow began to slow us down, and my map continued to say we were 15 minutes from our destination.

  It said 15 minutes for close to 45 minutes. Something was off. 

  

  By this time it was nearing 1500, and we had been hiking for five hours. We were still doing great on daylight, but we were both loosing interest in finding the Hütte. We made it within 0.4 miles of the Hütte before calling it a day. My old brain would have told me how ridiculous I was for turning around within FOUR TENTHS of a mile, but my current brain was O-V-E-R I-T.

  

  The remaining 0.4 miles were down slippery snow roads, and that’s when we knew it was time to call it. We sat where we stopped, ate a bit of food, and turned around for the ten miles back home. We left home around 1030, and arrived back around 2000. If MaryBeth and I hadn’t had a handful of other successful hikes, I’d say we were cursed to always attempt hikes we had to turn around on.

  We hiked 20 miles into Austria and back, and managed to catch both golden hour and the sunset on the mountains, I’d call that a success.

  

  

  Do I wish we had made it to the Hütte? Of course. Am I mad we didn’t? No. The day was full of laughs and great company, and our sore muscles reminded us of our crazy adventure into Austria…during a travel ban. What can I say, we’re rebels. 😉 (That, and I don’t think it counts as problematic when its in the mountains and you see zero other humans.)

  That’s my story, and I’m sticking to it. 

  Q: Have you ever gotten this close to a destination and decided to call it quits? 

  

  | 25 Comments Tagged Austria, Brittanys Life Abroad, Hiking

• Currently

  Posted at 2:00 PM by Brittany, on May 11, 2020

  Life the past month has been interesting to say the least. The hotel I work at closed to the public at the end of March, and I have been on leave without pay (LWOP-by choice/they asked if I would be willing to do this) since 28 March. I could have flown back to the states in the middle of April, but that was a risk I wasn’t willing to take.

  I wanted to wait out the Coronavirus storm, although at this point I don’t think the storm will be passing anytime soon.

  Financially I am stable, which allowed me to accept LWOP without consequence, and aside from the initial lack of routine (I’ve since created a routine I enjoy) – being able to live in Germany (for free) without any responsibilities at the moment is amazing. The hotel continues to push the open date, and as of right now we are scheduled to open the beginning of June.

  

  Hike views.

  

  Bike views.

  Select shops in Bavaria have reopened, and life in the mountains has remained the same. Part of why I chose to stay in Germany on LWOP opposed to flying back to the states was because of the freedom I still have here. I am able to go outside and be active however I please (within social distance guidelines), and I wouldn’t have been able to do that back in Washington.

  I’ve been spending my free time doing a myriad of things, like walking, biking, hiking, reading, journaling/writing, watching movies, and reflecting. I can’t remember a time when I was forced to slow down like this, and at first it was a literal shock to my system. I went from 60 to 0 in a matter of days – from a life of non stop travel and work, to a life of stillness.

  

  Bike views.

  

  Hike views.

  In the beginning I had days where I feel like I was useless to society, but then I remind myself we are in the midst of a pandemic. Although I am not working I technically still have a job, but even if I didn’t have a job, that would be ok too. I worked hard for my money, and I shouldn’t feel guilty about temporarily living off my savings.

  Besides, if I were working right now, I would be doing deep cleaning tasks and I just don’t want to do that.

  I trust God, and I trust I will be ok regardless of what’s to come the next few months. I have extended my time here until September, but anything can happen between now and then. I am challenging myself to be alone with my thoughts more which has been amazingly therapeutic and helpful in my growth.

  

  Bike views.

  

  Hike views.

  I am consistently meeting with the local chaplain for counseling, and I am loving the progress I have made. Digging deep and working through suppressed trauma has been both essential and helpful. I have a long way to go, but this has been a nice jump start. I am trying to shift my perfectionist mindset from “you’re being lazy by not working” to “you are using this time to grow as a person.”

  Of all places to be stuck during a global pandemic, I consider myself immensely blessed to be “stuck” in Bavaria. 

  

  Bike views.

  I’m challenging myself to learn new things with my free time, and I recently overcame a fear I had with regard to my bike. My bike is officially one year old, and she was in need of some love, so I gave her a bath. In my bathtub/shower. It wasn’t perfect, but I worked with what I had. My chain needed love and lube, and she’s as good as new now. 

  In the past I had always taken my bike to the shop for a tune up, mostly because I was intimidated by the thought of doing anything myself. The bike shops here were closed at the time, so I decided to do it myself. The chain no longer squeaks of thirst, and riding her feels like it did when I first bought her. Little things like this remind me I am capable of more than I think.

  

  Instead of looking at this down time as a negative, I have shifted my perspective to view this as a positive. I will never again live in Germany like this for free with the opportunity to fully submerge myself in nature. I’m not feeling the guilt of wasting my time off, because my time off is endless right now and travel is not an option.

  I’m essentially playing tourist in my own city, visiting new and old places. I am thankful for this time to reflect, and to reinvent a part of who I am. 

  

  Hike views.

  

  Journaling views.

  I’ve been more in tune with my body the last month as well, listening to what she needs. I’m not perfect, and I still make choices that don’t make me feel my best, but I am having an easier time bouncing back. It helps being able to sleep in until 0700/0800 instead of 0530. Time away from the stressful hustle and bustle that is customer service always reminds me just how damaging it can be to my health.

  All of this to say I am doing ok. It took a bit of time for me to let go of my anxiety surrounding the uncertainty of life right now, but at the end of the day little to none of this is within my control. I take each day as it comes, and compassionately bring myself back to earth when I get overwhelmed by the thought of what’s next.

  So for now, I will continue with my small routines which include daily exploration of this place I currently call home. 

  

  Hike views.

  Q: How are you currently? 

  

  | 31 Comments Tagged Biking, Europe, Garmisch, Germany, Hiking

• Brașov, România – Pt. 2

  Posted at 2:00 PM by Brittany, on May 4, 2020

  After a lovely introduction to the city of Brasov during our free walking tour, my roommate at I headed back to our Air B & B for a quick rest and refuel. My main objective in Brasov was to hike up to the Brasov sign for a better view of the city. I found the trail head the day before, and planned to hike to the sign in the afternoon after our walking tour.

  The Brasov sign is a replica of the Hollywood sign, and sits at a comfortable 955m.

  

  The hike itself is by no means difficult, however it did elevate my heart rate which was nice. If you’re not feeling up for the climb, there is also a cable car that will take visitors to the summit. My roommate chose to take the cable car up, and I chose to hike up and take the cable car down.

  The weather was perfect the entire time we were in Romania, and this day was no exception. The sun was out and it was relatively warm, allowing me to work up a sweat. Those who know me know I love sweating, I literally feel the toxins sliding down my skin. You’re welcome for that mental image.

  The trail was easy to follow, and I relished in the moments of quiet I had. It took me about 50 minutes to get to the top.

  

  

  Follow the triangles.

  I couldn’t help but look around and think to myself, “I am in the middle of the woods in Romania.” It was a surreal thought, and I remember becoming teary eyed. I felt such a wave of peace and gratitude for the ability to travel. Before I began traveling on a regular basis hiking alone (granted, this was in the middle of the city) in Romania would have given me anxiety, but now it’s liberating.

  I made it to the top and I walked towards the Brasov sign for a view of the city below. I then continued up towards a platform I thought would be more isolated. Not only was this location full of other humans, there were two platforms with couples sitting on them to enjoy the view. I waited for about ten minutes hoping one of the pairs would move, but no one moved.

  

  

  I wanted this tourist photo of me, sitting on the platform with the city down below to showcase my accomplishment of climbing the mountain, but instead these selfish people with their jackets, jeans, and purses (who clearly took the cable car up) hogged the location. Needless to say, I was a little bitter that I did the work of climbing and didn’t get to enjoy the platform…because I am five years old.

  My roommate had already been waiting long enough, so I called this a loss, put my big girl pants on to enjoy the view one last time, and headed towards the cable car for the ride down. The cable car down took all of five minutes, and was a worthy reward for doing the hard work of climbing up.

  

  After our adventures up Tampa Mountain, we wandered the city a bit more and I found a shop selling raw desserts. Despite the fact that certain ingredients within raw treats make me feel off, I am a sucker for vegan desserts. I by no means associate “vegan” with healthy, but it momentarily takes me back to a time in my life when eating food was…simple.

  Until it wasn’t. Alas, the treats were delicious.

  

  Raw tiramisu and raw brownie.

  The remainder of the day was spent solo wandering around the city, ending at a popular restaurant suggested to me twice for their Sarmale. A friend from the states had been to Brasov, and told me to eat dinner at La Ceaun. Then our tour guide Diana also suggested this place to eat for authentic Romanian food, so I decided to try it.

  I ordered Sarmale, a traditional Romanian cabbage dish stuffed with meat. I was disappointed to see how quickly the food reached my table after I ordered, leading me to believe the restaurant pre-makes the food and reheats when ordered. My food was lukewarm confirming this suspicion.

  My meal tasted good, but my experience was tainted by the lack of freshness. 

  

  I soaked up the calm energy of the evening, before heading back to the Air B & B to rest. The following morning we had a few hours to spare before heading back to the airport, and we decided to go back into town for breakfast. I found an adorable place called La Birou Bistro, where I enjoyed the most amazing avocado toast of my life.

  

  

  I mean look at those eggs. They glisten with perfection. Our waiter, along with everyone else we met in Romania, was unbelievably kind. With full bellies we finished packing our stuff to head back to Bucharest. I drove us to the airport in the small bus, which wasn’t as terrible as I anticipated. I literally feel like I can drive anywhere with anything after my time living in Europe.

  Except stick shift…aka the most important lesson I could have learned while living here. 

  

  Bistro on the left, we sat in the area where those two people are.

  Romania was such a pleasant surprise of a trip. Rich with history, culture, and beauty. I have officially been to Eastern Europe now, and I hope to visit more countries nearby when the world starts to breathe again. We arrived back in Germany just in time for shit to hit the fan in the world, and our timing couldn’t have been better.

  I am thankful my last trip was such a positive one, and I’m thankful I didn’t have to cancel it.

  

  

  Q: Am I being dramatic about the Tampa Mountain platform hogs?? LOL.

  

  | 12 Comments Tagged Brasov, Brittanys Life Abroad, Europe, Hiking, Romania, Tampa Mountain, Travel Abroad

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