Two Sides To The Story

If I'm to be positive about my sojourn overseas this summer, it might sound a little like this:

Amsterdam was wonderful! I spent time with two good friends from work - in the mornings Lu and I would sleep in, relax with a coffee at a cafe, then walk around pretty, pretty Amsterdam with its canals and arched bridges. In the evenings we'd meet with Kevin, have some great beers, enjoy delicious meals and go for walks to see the city at night. We went dancing, and we enjoyed the delights that only Amsterdam can provide a person in comfort (yes - I do enjoy the effects that natural, pure herbs can have on a person - in fact, I enjoy it A LOT).

Kevin and I hopped on his motorcycle for a road trip that weekend and I fell in love with the Dutch countryside (and motorcycles too - SO COOL). We zipped around from beautiful town to beautiful town and by the end, I actually had a bit of Medieval town fatigue! We stayed in cute boutique hostels (more like hotels, really), ate well, and drank lots (come on, we were in Belgium!). We saw the Dutch and the Belgians rival it out at a karaoke bar and found a surprise music festival and joined in a for late-night DJ set in one of Europe's prettiest cities (seriously, partying in the public square in Bruges? Whodathunk?). We waved to fellow bikers on the road and fought against the serious, serious winds that beat along the coast. That weekend? Was awesome.

I had two more days to myself in Amsterdam after that - I walked, I trammed, I biked (felt very Dutch the day I biked in the rain with no jacket and a cell phone to my ear!). I went to market after market, had delicious coffee after coffee, and shopped until I came away with two lovely things for fantastic prices. I explored the city inside and out - it feels so nice to get to know a city, like really get to know it. I had a set of keys to an apartment, a cell phone, a transit card and a bike! Amsterdam was really great.

The music festival in Belgium, Pukkelpop, was unlike anything I'd ever experienced before. To this day, the best way I can describe anything related to the festival is: MASS OF HUMANITY. There were people everywhere, so many people. Imagine the parking lot at Disney World - filled with tents. And now fill those tents with 17-year-old European teens looking to party for a few days.

"So what bands or musicians are you most looking forward to seeing?"

"Oh, we don't really know any of the bands."

A conversation with a 16-year-old Belgian kid opened our eyes to the fact that this is just what people do for fun over the summers in Europe - music festivals. You camp, you drink, you spray water at girls as they walk by, you go to a dance party or two and then stay up making noise until 4am. Repeat x4 days. Then you wear your collection of wristbands around all summer to show others that you're a veteran at this. Being about a decade older than most, Kev and I went to concert after concert because we were actually there for the MUSIC(!) and partied until our bodies were tired and sore. There is nothing, NOTHING like going to a DJ set by Benny Benassi in the middle of the afternoon. Or a Groove Armada or Major Lazer show. And no one throws a dance party like Hot Chip. I lost a lot of weight through sweat those few days. Don't worry - I found it again via eating nothing but fries with mayo for days.

One of my favourite moments from the festival though, had little to do with being at a show. No, it wasn't having to use porta-potties for 4 days (while nature decided to give me it's monthly gift), it wasn't lining up for an hour or two to get a shower, and no - it wasn't watching 300,000 people effectively destroy two massive fields over the course of 4 days. It was this: being high in the middle of a hot, hot day on the field, walking barefoot across the field (feeling every blade of grass on my soles (yes, being high does this)) to buy an ice cream. Walking back to my spot, sitting in the sun, and eating my ice cream, while some DJ spun a set that Kev was suredly dancing wildly to in a tent nearby. That's all. It had nothing to do with anything. Just enjoying the moment.

Leaving the festival was kind of like getting to the festival - this tiny Belgian town was completely taken over by people. We packed up en masse, we walked en masse, we crowded into the train station en masse. We pushed and shoved and forced our way onto trains, into seats, out of trains and finally - we lunched in Brussels. All I saw of Brussels was the train station, the little cafe across the street and my smoked salmon sandwich. I was so tired at that point I didn't really care to see more.

Then I hopped on the train to get to the airport so I could fly to Bordeaux and meet an ex-bf to cycle around for a few days. And really, I kind of stop having positive things to say at this point, but I'm going to try really hard:

Cycling around wine country in the south of France? Oh, it was everything a person from North America would imagine it to be. Bordeaux's centre is beautiful, just like any old French city (the outskirts, not so much at all). And riding along a beautiful bike trail through the countryside, breathing in fresh country air was just what I needed. We rode past cute towns along an old railway, stopped by vineyars to taste test their grapes, and picked wild blackberries along the road for a snack break. At nights we camped, cooked delicious meals with his little propane tank and mess kit and lay in the grass to enjoy the stars with a bottle of wine. We spent a day in St. Emilion, the heart, in our minds, of the wine region in France. We went to a little tasting, walked barefoot up and down its narrow, steep, cobbly streets, and discovered the town at night. It was beautiful, really.

Even the cycling did me good. I've got a big bike trip coming up and riding with a super athletic cyclist definitely whipped me into gear. We battled hills and headwinds and extreme sun and heat - I may have hated every minute of it then, but I knew it was doing me good in the end.

And that was it - that was my three weeks in Europe this summer, if I'm to be positive about it all. I need to be positive though, I need to remind myself that I had a really great trip and did some really great things. I mean, come on - Amsterdam was fantastic, a motorcycle trip was wicked, the music festival was cool, and I went cycling in the south of France through wine coutnry. Come ON! How lucky am I?

BUT:

My bag got stolen on the train. *breath* I cried. A lot.
I saw the boy I haven't been able to stop thinking about for 7 months. *breath*
He is still very wonderful and attractive. *deep breath*
I had to spend 5 days with him, cycling around, sharing beds, and a one-person tent. *hyperventilates* It was a bad idea.

I won't get into the nasty, heart-wrenching details and will only say that 1. I miss my clothes and my journal - oh, my poor, sweet journal and 2. my time with him was the life definition of BitterSweet. And it slowly ate at my insides the entire time I was with him. I didn't sleep well at all. Add that to the 4 nights I had at the festival and the fact that I cried the entire 23-hour journey home and I basically didn't sleep for two weeks.

Everything basically went downhill after my bag got stolen on the train. And it hasn't really stopped yet either. Life has been kicking my ass since I got home. My computer is fried, I had to get new panniers (YAY for spending so much more money after an expensive holiday), my allergies make me want to tear my nose off and claw my eyes out and I hear that a hurricane is about to hit the Atlantic coast this weekend, just in time for my arrival to train for my bike trip. PERFECT.

I've had many a distraught phone conversation and written many an upset email, but I guess the truth is this: It happened. Now move on. Anyone out there watch How I Met Your Mother? Barney says something that's been helping me out: "When I get sad, I stop being sad and be awesome instead. True story."
12:40 pm