3 continents. 6 days. 32 hours of transportation. Here’s a summary of my last week of travel:
Bus Cochabamba to La Paz 5 hours Sunday
Plane La Paz to Santa Cruz 1 hour Wednesday early am
Plane Santa Cruz to Miami 7 hours Wednesday morning
Plane Miami to JFK in NYC 3 hours Wednesday afternoon
***18 hour layover***
Plane NYC to Istanbul, Turkey 10 hours Thursday afternoon
Plane Istanbul to Tirana, Albania 2 hours Friday early am
Bus Tirana to Korce, Albania 4 hours Friday evening
As I packed my bags in Cochabamba, I knew I had a long week ahead of me. I was saying goodbye to a country and continent that I’d fallen in love with. I was saying goodbye to a language that I could speak and a culture that I understood. I was saying goodbye to warm weather and delicious food. I was saying goodbye to Team Fireproof.
Changes were in store.
While I said goodbye to many things, I would also say hello to other comforts. I would say hello to my “home” country for an entire day as we passed through Miami and New York. I would say hello to clean drinking water out of the bubbler. I would say hello to a septic system that allows me to flush my toilet paper. I would say hello to Target and all of the toiletries I prefer. I would say hello in my native language.
Change is hard.
As we exited the jet way in Miami, a surreal feeling overcame me and I experienced déjà vu. 3 months earlier I had boarded a plane to leave for the World Race from this very airport, and now I was back. My squad-mates flocked to Starbucks and the fast food joints. I couldn’t do it. Not that what they were doing was wrong, but I felt like it was a tease to enjoy these comforts and then have to give them up for 8 more months.
We flew to JFK in New York and many eager parents were waiting to greet their kids. In my head I thought, “I’d love to see my parents but that would be so hard to say goodbye all over again.” People flooded to hotel rooms because of the long layover and had their lists ready for the Target run in the morning.
If you know me, you know I love to save money so I didn’t get a hotel room. Nope, I can now boast that I’ve spent the night in JFK airport. In my tent…
Tentin' it in JFK Airport in New York City.
Yep, that’s right. I set up my tent in the airport and slept in it. Now really, isn’t that what you expect of a World Racer?
My favorite was the security guards that were amused by our “tent city.” Really, it was just me and one other squad-mate that set up her tent. And it happened to be in the Fun Zone Arcade area- clearly we had fun! We figured we’re lugging this stuff around all year; we might as well use it. My tent was the one thing I hadn’t used yet, so now I can say I’ve used everything in my pack!
After catching a few hours of sleep, we packed up our bags and headed to Target. Stressful. If you made a documentary of this experience, you might call it “Country Girl Goes to the City.” After 3 months of bargaining with cab drivers and packing as many people as possible into a car, I was shocked to find out you could only put 5 people in a taxi and it costs at least $20 to go anywhere. People aren’t quite as friendly or as helpful- at least, that was my experience.
I picked up a few toiletries and a Kindle case for my new Kindle (I read all my paperback books and this was all I wanted for Christmas) and was pleasantly surprised to find a Best Buy near by. My camera was stolen in Bolivia (sad day) but was able to replace it…and it was on sale! We hitched a ride back to the airport and met up with the squad. It was time to get on our next flight.
As we stripped down to get through security one more time, I hit a wall of exhaustion. We got to our gate and we had some time to kill.
So I slept.
My teammate, Jamie, and me passed out on my bedroll.
Jamie did too. We were both fatigued to the point of passing out on my bedroll (which I conveniently had with me). I know it’s not a very flattering picture, but the World Race isn’t about looking good. I had been wearing this same outfit for 5 days when this picture was taken…
After two more flights and a bus ride, I had arrived in Korca, Albania (pronounced Core-cha). Toni, the campus director, picked us up and we were placed in our new home. Goodbye South America; Hello Eastern Europe!
