#also spent last weekend in different mountains and on a very difficult and tiring home

[ikyw-t]

very big spending day for me today lol, I booked a 4 night hostel stay in Lyon later this month, my first time going to a completely new place all by myself! also first time staying in a hostel! also first time going on a trip with nothing but a backpack! going to be a very exciting!!

I also caved and bought taylor merch for the first time in 3 years lol, the purple speak now hoodie was just absolutely calling my name and I had to get her before she inevitably sells out 💜 also I got the luggage tag stickers to decorate my bullet journal lol

[doomedandstoned]

Closer to the End

Depression is my nemesis. Eventually it will kill me.

...if I let it.

By Billy Goate

Art by RusoTsig (@rusotsig)

Life's falling away from me. The visual evidence is all about. Unopened mail builds up at random spots around the room like mini Towers of Babel. Even things that normally give me great delight -- a recently delivered set of vinyl records -- lie undisturbed in their brown cardboard packages. Meanwhile, my email continues to multiply exponentially: 200 unanswered today, 400 tomorrow, 800 on the day after that (for the curious, the tally stands at 2,359 today). The very thought of opening my inbox makes it equivalent to walking out into open traffic, so I avoid it like the plague.

Meals have become simplified these days -- if it can't be eaten out of a package, forget about it. And all those empty wrappers? They, too, join the general disorder, decorating the landscape of my solitary hovel. Eventually, messages from friends and family go unread. Bills go unpaid (even when there are sufficient funds). The yard turns into a veritable jungle of tall grass, weeds, and sprawling bushes. Clothes go unwashed and hygiene is neglected for days at a time. Weekends are spent pouring over regrets about what might have been, brooding about the end of days.

As any doctor will confirm, these are classic symptoms of depression. What they can't tell you is how hopeless hopelessness can feel.

Karl Briullov - The Last Days of Pompeii (detail)

Black Sabbath’s final show in the Pacific Northwest. Usnea's album release party. Saint Vitus reunited with their first singer, Scott Reagers. The return of Sasquatch. Once in a lifetime small venue appearances by international bands, such as Cult of Occult. A rare hometown gig by Yob. Visits from Goya, Primitive Man, and countless others. Ceremony of Sludge. Even events with the Doomed & Stoned's own name stamped on them. All of these are things I've missed out on in the past year or two because of depression.

It's not that I was too down to even consider going. On the contrary, I was actively planning to go. I RSVP'd, bought tickets, and even checked out the camera equipment to film the shows. In most cases, I'd gotten dressed and readied, even told people to expect me, but for one reason or another I fell under the unyielding grip of depression and came up with an excuse for why I couldn't go. Then one day I just got tired of making excuses and stopped going out altogether.

In one case, I was halfway down the road on a two-hour trip to see Saint Vitus and Witch Mountain perform at Star Theater, when suddenly a wave of grief washed over me from head to spine. As soon as I spotted the nearest overpass, I exited, turned around, and returned home. Even shows I knew would be cathartic (Bell Witch playing their titular Mirror Reaper at a local watering hole) just couldn't cause me to drive a couple miles down the road. The few times I managed to go out, it was because I absolutely forced myself. I practically fought with my inner man all the way there, too -- teeth clenched, hands tightly gripping the wheel, rehearsing in my mind a myriad of reasons why I should just turn back and stay home.

For me, Alice in Chains captures the frustration perfectly in "Excuses":

Everyday it's something Hits me all so cold

Find me sittin' by myself No excuses, then I know

Depression has robbed me of so much. I've missed opportunities to collaborate with musicians and artists because of it. I've pushed away friends and family, until contact between us has become more and more scarce. I've even stopped celebrating my birthday. I have become a shadow of a man.

What's worse, there's been a new development: anhedonia. I remember only casually looking up the meaning of that word when reviewing Undersmile's album by the same name. Anhedonia basically means that you stop finding pleasure in life. As I browse through my friend's timelines, I find it difficult to relate to their happiness. I think quite often of the emptiness of it all, of being alone and growing older, and the ultimate futility of human pursuits. I often feel more of an observer than an actor in the great drama of life.

As you read all of this, bear in mind that I've managed to hold down a steady, full-time job for decades, right up to the present day. You see, some cope by drinking, others by eating, and others still chase the fleeting high of romantic love, but I found my copacetic in work (as absurd as that might sound). I’ve damn near worked myself to death over the past couple years, too, taking precious few "mental health days" or vacation. At one point, I stopped accruing paid time off, because I'd reached my limit and my boss had no choice but to mandate that I take two days off per month. Can you imagine? I’d been known to come into work on the weekend, rather than spend it alone with my thoughts. At least at work, I can stay distracted with something I feel makes some kind of difference.

I can't feel my life Makes me want to cry How bad i feel inside Like I wanna die

Destination unknown Wreckage in tow Depression grows I have no home

Lately, all I've wanted to do on the weekends is sleep. When I'm at work, I'm fine. I'm in the zone. I have purpose. Things make sense. I'm needed. When I'm home, I always have a list of to-dos, but no matter how busy I try to make myself, I find myself suffering with a lonely, aching feeling. It hurts to be alive. That's the only way I can describe it. So I go to sleep early -- and sleep and sleep and sleep -- without so much as the aid of melatonin. All I want to do is go to sleep and forget and wake up the next day and start fresh, hoping all of the oppressive feelings of darkness have left me. I'll sleep 9 hours, 10 hours, 12 hours is not unheard of, then curse when the alarm wakes me up to face the day. I haven't slept so much since I was a teenager.

At least some of my depression seems linked with sunlight. While the sun is out, I'm mostly okay. When I'm taking my meds, I feel possessed with purpose and I'm busy chipping away at a dozen assorted projects, networking with bands, record labels, and PR reps around the globe, auditing new records, editing submissions from my team, and occasionally summoning enough nerve to write an album review of my own. But when the sun sets and darkness takes hold, bathing the landscape in its sinister shadows, everything changes.

In the heart of winter, there is an existential dread that overtakes me when the sun sets. It's almost primitive. There seems to be no rational basis for feeling this way, unless we factor in some kind of code passed along in the evolutionary programming of the reptilian brain over the millennia. You know, that thing responsible for our fight or flight response -- the urge to either take a swing or get the hell out of Dodge.

Loneliness is not a phase Field of pain is where I graze

Saw my reflection and cried So little hope that I died

That cryptic note of horror hints at what happens when our coping mechanisms stop working for us. For me, it was burnout. I worked and worked and worked, and then I came home and did Doomed & Stoned in the evenings and weekends until I inevitably reached a point of absolute and total system overload.

We've seen a spate of deaths in recent years in the heavy music world stemming from depression. It seems to be the creative person's curse. Chris Cornell of Soundgarden. Linda Nygren of the Wounded Kings. Dozens more artist deaths are listed as "N/A" in Metal Archives, but you always wonder. Even an accidental drug overdose can owe its underlying cause to depression. Often it's hard to untangle addiction from the need to escape acute emotional pain.

Though it is tempting to buy into conspiracy theories linking suicide to pharmaceuticals, chemtrails, fluoride in the water, gangstalking, and covert government ops, it's important to recognize that suicide is nothing unique to our life and times. Narrowing the focus more specifically to musicians and other artistic types, we've had many historic instances of depression. Think Beethoven, Franz Liszt, and Tchaikovsky -- three people who pioneered much of the musical language that doom metal utilizes for expression. Each experienced prolonged periods of melancholia for various reasons, from physical malady and loss-fueled grief to unrequited love and the utter rejection of society. Arguably, Peter Ilyich Tchaikovsky died at his own hand.

Perhaps it won't surprise you that many of us who have an affinity for doom metal (though certainly not all) are also at risk for suicide. A recently published study by the University of Manchester found a correlation, though not a causal link, between members of "alternative subcultures" and "the risk of self-harm and suicide." There was no definite conclusion drawn from the piece, other than to point out that a problem exists (no kidding) and that more long-term studies are needed.

I've got a notion as to why heavy music draws the heavy-laden: misery loves company. We're drawn to the mysteriously compelling ability that doom has to commiserate with our feelings, from lyrics that deal so honestly with sadness to the solace of sharing a joint with those who are on a similar path.

But sometimes depression is so severe that you don't want to go out on the weekends at all, not even for your favorite band. Before I get too deep into my own story and how I'm treating my depression, some of you may wonder why I am writing this piece and have decided to share it publicly. I can assure you, I have nothing to gain from this. I'm not crying out for help (I'm too stubborn to ask for it when needed, anyway) and I'm certainly not trying to sell you on anything.

To be truthful, I've been chipping away at this piece (currently standing at 53,726 characters) for two years. I revisit it when the depression hurts the most. It acts as a kind of release valve for me and since that's at least providing some relief, I'll keep scribbling words upon this page. So before you leave thinking this was all just a self-indulgent slab of depression porn, stay tuned. There really is more to the story, including some valuable insights I'm learning about dealing constructively with my depression and its underlying causes -- physical and psychological.

To be continued...

  ★ Read Part II

  ☆ Read Part III

Here I sit writing on the paper Trying to think of words you can't ignore

See the cycle I've waited for It ain't like that anymore

[goddessnemain]

What Would You Do If You Were Me?

What would you do if you were me?

What would you do if you met someone incredible, potentially life-changing incredible, could potentially fall in love with incredible, would consider packing up your whole life and leaving everything you ever knew behind incredible, leave the only town you’ve ever lived in incredible, someone who makes you feel like you’re the most gorgeous woman on the planet incredible, tells you you’re beautiful incredible, sends you a photo of themself pouting, wearing a shirt I had borrowed for all of 45 minutes, telling me he was pouting because his shirt smelled just like me and he was wearing it so he was just sitting there smelling me and making him miss me more incredible.

I guess I should explain.

See, September long weekend I was at a music festival outside my small town. He’s a drummer. I caught his band- they were the second last act of the Saturday night- and my brother went on as the last act that night. My brother was the only reason I was even there. The next day, the Sunday, I was sitting at a picnic table with my friend, we’re chatting with some people and this drummer just asks if he can sit down beside me. Next thing I know, he’s asking about the tattoo on my forearm, so of course, I show him- I love this damn tattoo! I show everyone who asks!- and he starts running his fingers across the lines. Not in a creepy way, but in a ‘taking his time to really check this thing out and touch me a little’ way. We started talking. And talking. And talking. And hung out all afternoon and into the night. Himself, his bassist, and the bassists' girlfriend even stayed an extra night so we could hang out. We just hit it off. We drank, we danced- he asked me to dance- and neither of us knows how to dance but holy crap was it fun. We sat around the ‘gypsy campfire’ that night, watched an amazing lightning show and hid in camper trailers when the storm hit.

The next morning when they were leaving, his phone had died, but he was determined to get my number. It wound up on a receipt only after he dug one out of his bassists’ Jeep and asked 5 different people for a pen. I never asked for his. I found out later that he drove his friends crazy the whole 2-hour drive home asking them when he should text me, “is it okay if I text her as soon as we get home? Is that too weird?” They told him to give it a day. I had a text 2 1/2 hours later. And they just kept coming. And then the late-night, 2-hour, 3-hour phone calls started happening.

Before I knew it, I was driving 90 minutes on a Saturday morning to go to the city so we could go on a date. Yeah, a real date. I didn’t think those were still a thing either. He took me for lunch, we went to a science center and wandered around, watched a film about space. Playful little touches here and there, flirting like teenagers. We were devising plans to steal the ceiling lights because I liked them. He took me for dinner and drinks, we played pool, went to the movies. He wouldn’t let me pay for anything- which drove me crazy- I had to basically body check him out of the way so I could pay for the popcorn. By the end, it was almost 10pm, dark, and he didn’t want me to drive home in the dark. I’ve driven through the northern Alberta/BC mountains at 4am in the middle of a Canadian winter and enjoyed it, but he was concerned about me driving 90 minutes in the dark in warm, dry conditions. Eventually, I agreed to stay. We checked into a hotel, grabbed a bottle of whisky, and talked for hours.

Of course, I already knew about the ex by now. I knew she showed up at his house at all times of the day and night, drunk, looking for a place to crash. She had shown up one night when we had been on the phone. I knew he feels bad that she doesn’t have a permanent place to live. He hadn’t bothered to really put his foot down and tell her she had to get lost and stay lost, he wanted to be amicable. He hadn’t been looking to meet anyone. He hadn’t been looking to get involved with anyone. And then he met me. And that changed things for him. He does want her gone, he doesn’t want her to stop by all the time. He wants me to be able to come and stay with him at his house without having to worry about her coming in in the middle of the night and flipping because I’m there, If she doesn’t bat an eyelash about beating the crap out of him, lord knows what she would do to me. That's why we’ve stayed in hotels- no concerns for my safety that way. 

After our date, after I headed for home, he had been home several ours, and then the psycho ex showed up at his house with a mutual friend of theirs. The mutual friend had told the ex that my guy had been talking to a new girl. The ex had text my guy all night the night before, the night we were in the hotel together, demanding to know where he was, why he wasn’t home, when he was coming home and was he with that (my name here) whore. So when the ex showed up with that mutual friend, apparently it turned into a verbally accosting my guy shit show. He retreated into himself. I didn’t hear from him for 2 days after that. 

This past weekend he had a show to play several hours drive from where I live. So, I drove the 90 minutes to meet him at his bassists place so my guy, the bassist, his girlfriend and I could all make the drive down together. After I’d been there an hour or so, I was informed that the psycho ex may have found a ride down to the show. I asked the bassists girl, we’ll call her ‘M’, if I should maybe just go home, or find another place to stay and not go to the show. She said that the psycho ex likely didn’t have a ride down to the show, that she was likely just trying to cause shit, but that M would talk to my guy and tell him that he had to tell the psycho ex that not only was she not invited to the show, but she was absolutely not welcome. M, someone I hardly know, went to bat for me. That says something about this girl. I liked her immediately even more after that. And she did have a chat with him because shortly after that, my guy came to me, took my hands, looked me in the face and said “I doubt she will come down. But if she does, you’re safe. You will be with me. I will not let her near you. You will be in the ‘green room’ with me. She isn’t allowed back there. She would have to get through me to get to you and that’s not going to happen.”

We ended up spending 4 nights together. When we got back from his show on the Sunday, we checked into a hotel and spent the afternoon and into the night cuddling, sleeping, watching tv, slow, passionate sex, hard and fast fucking, dozing off in each other's arms. We spent the next 2 days getting paid to spend time together. No, I’m not going to tell you how, but it was completely legal, a ton of fun, and the perfect excuse to spend an extra 2 days together. We hung out, did something neither of us had ever done before, got to know each other better. He met a good friend of mine, and my friend really liked him. I hope we’ll see each other together in the background. 

When I finally got home on the Wednesday after those 4 days together, that's when I got the cute pouting photo, and “my shirt smells like you and it makes me miss you”. 

He sent me a link to a Volbeat song: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=DdPpRdImfuA

And then he sent me the chorus:

Wherever she walks She will be captivating all the men Don't look in her eyes You might fall and find the love of your life heavenly But she'll catch you in her web The love of your life

He says I’ve caught him in my web.

Later that night was when his psycho ex came over wanting to talk and attacked him. He had text me that his ex had gotten ahold of him and said that they needed to chat. He said she didn’t sound angry or pissed off, just defeated and tired. He sounded really optimistic that their chat would go well. But it didn’t. They argued. She knew about me. Not all about me, but she figured that he had been with me in his 4 days away. She knew my name, not my last name, just my first. They argued. She lost her mind and attacked him. The cops came out. It was a huge thing. I don’t know the whole story. I do know that he left the house for a while so the cops could deal with her. I know he told the cops that she could stay at the house. I know that if she had been hauled off to the drunk tank he was going to go down and get her out. 

I also know that 2 weeks ago he changed the locks on his house because he wants to be rid of her and move on. That he doesn’t want her to fuck up anything with me because of her crazy behavior. I know he thinks her behavior, the showing up all the time is inappropriate. 

He’s even talking about moving to a new place so she doesn’t know where he lives and can’t show up anymore.

I know that when he changed the locks on his house she threw a rock through a window.

It drives me up the damn wall that he still lets her in the house. That he even defends her in any way. It bothers me that he’s 90 minutes away and all these things keep happening and I’m completely helpless and useless and can’t do a damn thing about any of it. I can have my opinion, but in the end, he has to decide to completely cut her off. It has to be on him to get rid of her.

Until then I just have to deal with it all the best I can, bite my tongue- which is very difficult for me to do- and hope he makes the right decision.

I’m the right decision for him. He knows that. He admits that they’re poison for each other and that they’re not getting back together, he has no interest in getting back together. 

He wants me. I know he wants me. I’m ‘his girl’ he says. He asked me if I had ever considered moving to the city. When I told him that I didn’t “have anyone in the city I would consider being roommates with”, he told me to give it a few months and then think about it again. It’s way too early, it’s way too complicated right now, to even think about any of that, but 7, 8 months from now might be a different story. It’s way too soon to tell. 

So, now that you know that there's this incredible, wonderful, amazing guy I’ve met, a guy who takes me on real dates, who risks backlash from a psycho ex to spend time with me, who introduced me to his bandmates, to his best friends, who wants to keep seeing me, who is willing to deal with 90 minute drives so we can see each other, who is willing to move so he can move onto a new life- one that involves me-, what would you do if you were me?

Be patient and hope he makes the right decisions? Guard your heart and hold him at arm's length until you see some real changes with the ex? Keep letting him in and trust that he’s telling you the truth? I have no reason to believe that he’s lied to me, there’s been no proof he’s ever lied to me. The night his ex showed up at his house with their mutual friend he even offered to video chat with me so I was comfortable, so he could prove I had nothing to worry about in regards to him being romantically involved with his ex. 

Would you keep slowly giving him pieces of yourself, pieces of your heart? Pieces of your story, the honest pieces of your story, the ones you don’t tell most people? Or would you cut and run?

Tell me, what would you do if you were me?

[livelikebrent]

Stop 2: Part 2: Saturday in Ocean City, MD

Saturday after Brent’s funeral had perfect weather. We loaded up the Jeeps and headed down to Assateague Island to drive on the beach. Brent loved staying on the West side of Ocean City. He’d always say, "There’s less riffraff out here.” It was true. The bars, restaurants and beaches had more of a local’s vibe and you wouldn’t get the shoobies and riffraff from the boardwalk. But he absolutely loved bringing the cars onto the OSV (Over Sand Vehicle) portion of the island to set up “camp” for the day. Assateague Island had also become my favorite beach over the years as well. This National Seashore is known for two things: 1. The beach that stretches from Maryland down into Virginia, and 2. The wild horses. That’s right. Wild horses graze, run, and walk all over your towels on the shore line. It’s really pretty and pretty annoying when you’re starving and all you want to do is eat your Wawa breakfast sandwich but can’t take it out until the horses move on. That happened to Brent and me last summer. 

You see the horses all of the time. As you’re cruising on the winding drive through the wetlands to the beach they’ll be hanging out in the brush and on the shoulder. You may be unloading chairs from your vehicle in the parking lot and turn around to see one watching you. I’ve witnessed people not being able to get out of the bathroom because there are a couple of them hanging out by the door. It’s entertaining. Below is a still photo captured from a video of Brent’s. You might recall him telling you about this sight - He caught one of the horses cooling off in the bay one day when he was down with his buddy, Josh from Colorado. He was so proud of not only capturing but witnessing this moment.

As I was packing stickers for the weekend down at the beach, in my head I was going through the spots that were necessary to tag. The two obvious ones were Teasers at Sunset Grille and Assateague. I did question at first how the hell I was going to tag a sticker for Brent at his favorite beach. But by Saturday morning, I already knew where I wanted to place it before we even left the house for the day. Just like I did, you’d probably think it would be difficult to get a sticker up at a National Seashore that wouldn’t be considered vandalism, harming the environment, etc. Remember, this isn’t a beach with surfaces, a boardwalk or trash bins. It’s a straight up beach. I recalled there being a pipe by the air machine as you leave the island. It had always been covered in stickers. We caravanned on over and I drove the Cream Puff (Jared’s Jeep) up to the entrance as Ryan and his family followed. While Jared worked on letting air out of the tires, I threw on Brent’s Thrasher snapback and walked over to the other side to scout out a spot on the pipe with Amy. 

Obviously, “Dean-A-Palooza Big Dawgs Last Meal” had already occupied the best spot on the pipe. I couldn’t argue with that sticker so I found a spot about half way down. Let’s keep our fingers crossed that some shmoe doesn’t come by and cover it up like they did to the “Fat Daddy” sticker. I will definitely be back to all of these locations to check up on them regardless. Ain’t nobody gonna treat #LiveLiveBrent like a Fat Daddy.

We spent a couple of hours at the beach. As soon as we got there, a dragon fly would not leave us alone. It settled and landed on Amy’s leg. She looked at me and asked, “You know what dragonflies mean, right?” I told her no and that I noticed this one wanted to hang out with us for some reason. She said, “They’re a sign of loved ones that passed.” I had no idea. I mentioned in my last post that I’ve heard different stories and signs of how a loved one is near but yeah...dragonflies are a thing. It hung around a little while longer and I noticed it fly into the passenger window of Jared’s Jeep. It landed on his hat and sunglasses and remained there until we left the beach hours later.

I spent some time alone out in the ocean that day. Tears were shed as I reflected and remembered spending hours out there with Brent in summers past. Floating. Chatting. Swimming in silence and taking it all in. But, on this day, the entire time I was out there, I felt completely and utterly calm. I’ve honestly felt this way for the last two weeks. I’m not sure why but I feel as if Brent has been giving me this sense of calmness and strength that I can’t quite explain. But then again, he always said I was one of the most even-keeled human beings he had ever met. He liked that about me but also would tell me it kept him guessing at times.

Jared was a couple of yards away in the ocean. I was so glad he came to the beach with us that day. Typically when we would go down to the beach houses, Brent and I would meet up with Kevin and Janelle who would also be down for several days at a time. We’d go out, get into a mess of shenanigans, always attend the annual Brewgrass Festival together and whatnot. But I had never had as much one-on-one time with Jared as I did this one weekend at the beach. I am so glad I did. He has such a positive and upbeat vibe to him. He made me laugh a lot that weekend. Brent adores his cousin. You know what? I do too.

Just for fun - this picture above is from last summer down at the beach on Assateague. At this point last year he had already started his treatment but we always made sure to make the best of those off days. We lotioned the hell out of one another that day. Brent also wore all of his UPF sun protecting clothing that summer. He flippin’ LOVED gear. He had gear for the beach, snow, mountains...everything. I think it’s safe to say we all know that about him and that he always had some of the nicest clothing when it came to being outside...okay, inside too. This was also the day the horses were trotting up and down the beach and the water was so blue! I don’t think I need to explain why this has become a favorite beach of mine anymore. 

Speaking of favorites...this brings us to our final destination in OCMD: Teasers at Sunset Grille.  Later Saturday night, Amy, Kevin, Jared and I headed over to “the horseshoe” which is a section of West Ocean City where several bars are located around the marina. Ps. If you want time away from the craziness of OCMD, definitely spend time over here. We stopped by Harborside for dinner and drinks. Harborside claims to be the home of the original fresh squeezed orange crush. Don’t know what an orange crush is? Pause right now, Google it, think, “That actually does sound really refreshing” and come back to continue reading. It’s a cocktail that is consumed regularly down in Ocean City. Anyway, this spot is almost always jamming and a good time with good tunes. We sweat straight through our clothes, slugged back some crushes and ordered some food. It was extremely humid that evening. It was so hot that Kevin had a Bud Light in hand. If you don’t know Kevin...he is THE beer connoisseur. He can probably talk about beer longer than a Phish set that includes "Tweezer” and not the reprise version half of you saw on the Baker’s Dozen Tour.  If a brewery has a can release, the average person will buy one or a couple but Kevin and Janelle walk out with seven...cases. Sorry I need to pause and just that Brent has some awesome cousins. So yes, it was Bud Light hot that night.

Every bar and restaurant on the marina has a wonderful view. As we sat there, we stepped out on the deck in hopes for a sunset and some fresh air. But we actually had quite the view of a gloomy storm starting to approach us.

Before we got too comfortable watching the clouds roll in, we walked over to Teasers. Also, had Brent been sitting there with us he would’ve rattled off the type of clouds rolling in. I’m not sure if he did that with everyone. But there would be times we would be driving and I’d say something about the shapes of the clouds and I’d get a response, “WelI, those cool clouds are actually Cumulonimbus clouds, Aisling.” Those are definitely some of the things I will miss.

I honestly cannot recall a time where we went down to the beach and did not end up at Teasers at some point. I don’t think I can emphasize it enough - Brent loved everything about this place. The ambiance is just always on point.  It’s an open air bar with a floating outdoor band stage out on the marina. I’ve actually ended up booking bands for some of my events from seeing them live at Teasers first. This place was also always great for a sunset. If Brent could, he would have had our wedding there. Ha, but I think it’s safe to say that any structured venue wouldn’t have been big enough for us. I mean, come on...you stood in that line that night. He was and still is a very loved individual.

As we sat down at the bar, I was again unsure where we would be able to throw a sticker up. I figured at the very least I could put it under the bar so it wouldn’t be taken down. But it turns out that there are stickers slapped up in a couple locations inside. I asked the bar tender for 3 minutes of his time, explained why we were there and asked permission to put a sticker up. The bartender saw the manager (actually I believe it was the owner) and told him what I was doing. I got up and stuck one right on the side of the cash register. It’s in plain sight where anyone on the left side of the bar could see it. This specific location was certainly the most important one on the trip and I know right now Brent is proud that I was able to get one up there for him. Actually, I take that back. He’s probably critiquing and saying I should’ve covered that one side of the cash register. Sorry, Uncle B.

As I was placing the sticker up, Jared got hold of the manager/owner. He told him where we were from, why we were there and why Teasers is such an important establishment to us. As I walked back to my seat on the other side of the bar Jared stopped me. The owner asked us to bring in a photo of Brent to be placed on the ceiling. I know that sounds awkward if you’ve never been to Teasers but inside of this dockside bar is a vaulted ceiling with different items on it. It’s like Billy Murphy’s Irish Saloon but...beachy fishing decor...in a sense. So the next time I’m down you bet a framed photo of Brent Patrick Evans will be hung in his favorite spot.

I’ve mentioned it before and I will mention it again, I am overwhelmed by the incredible support that I am oh so lucky to have. Thanks to Amy for being my personal photographer and beach bud for the weekend. As always, thank you to Brent’s family for such a special weekend down at their beach home.

Photo Credit: Amy Kroll 

[in78weeks-blog]

Adventure in Coachella Valley

About a month ago I found incredibly cheap roundtrip tickets to Palm Springs and instantly bought my tickets. While I began planning my trip, I realized that my college friend Lor-Shing lived in LA - only an hour and a half drive away. She was free for half of the weekend so she decided to come join me in the desert.

I arrived on Friday at 11am. I was planning on working remote for the day and Lor-Shing had some work to get done, so we found a coffee shop nearby and stopped in for the morning.

Though we had work to get done, we were both so eager to catch up and talk about all that had happened in our lives since the last time we saw each other. Giving ourselves more work and study breaks than we deserved, we found little moments to share anecdotes and eventually dove into a informative and self-reflective conversation about our personality traits and enneagrams.

Realizing that we were doing more talking than working and that we weren’t expecting to get too much work done for the rest of the day, at 4pm we packed up our belongings and sat in her car figuring out what to do next. We decided to venture into the snowy mountains of Mount San Jacinto via the Aerial Tram. We drove through the canyon leading to the base of the clouded mountains that towered over the town. The steady incline was proving to be a challenge to Lor-Shing’s sedan, but we let our conversation about life and love drown out the sound of the high rpm gear shifts of the car.

We beat the tour bus by a couple minutes and avoided waiting in the painfully long and restless line of tourists eagerly awaiting their trip up the side of the mountain. We entered the tram and as we began our ascent into the misty clouds above, we were surprised to feel the platform begin to turn. The circular platform made three rotations on our 15-minute ride to the mountain, giving us a view of both the mountain station ahead and the valley below.

For a 5 minute segment of our ride, we entered into a Jurassic Park like scene as the thick fog kept us from seeing only a couple hundred feet around us. My childhood fear of pterodactyls appearing from a dark fog crept back into my heart until we broke through the fog and were enlightened to see a wintery landscape atop the eerie cloud blanket.

We stepped off the tram into a cold wintery wonderland, much like the snowy Colorado mountains I had just left hours ago. Around us were unprepared Californians fashioning their flip-flops and short sleeves and Lor-Shing mentioned that this was the first time she had seen snow since living in Washington years ago. We wandered among the shaded forests on the mountainside, occasionally sinking into the deep snow and stepping back in shock as my stylish booties and Lor-Shing’s cloth sneakers weren’t built for cold and wet conditions.

We made our way back to the warm cabin and found a secluded corner to enjoy our hot chocolates and continue our conversation about where we were headed in life. In between our reflective conversation, we lulled into long spells of silence, where we turned our face to the sun and let the self-reflective thoughts sink into our hearts. The sun was beginning to set so we decided to make our way back down to a more favorable warm climate 10,000 feet below.

We were both tired from the travels and adventures of the day so we stopped in at our AirBnb and took a long nap to recover. I was jerked awake, and in a panic checked my clock to the surprise that I had slept for two hours. We were both incredibly hungry so we quickly found a Mexican restaurant to fill our stomachs. By the time we were done eating, it was too late in the day to do anything else so we went back to the AirBnb with a pint of dairy-free ice cream and called it a night.

Lor-Shing needed to leave by 12:30 to make it back to Los Angeles, so we decided to get an early start to Joshua Tree National Park to make the most of our remaining time together. I had visited Joshua Tree National Park once while I was a college student, but the drive was completely unfamiliar to me. We arrived as the ranger was getting to the entrance station so we were hopeful to be some of the first people in the park.

We had no rigid plan so we drove through the park and stopped at unique spots along the way as they peaked our interest. We climbed among the rocks, wandered through the Joshua Trees, leisurely enjoying the warm sunlight against our skin.

We stumbled across some boulderers in the park, so even though I wasn’t properly dressed, I borrowed a pair of shoes from the friendly climbers and jumped on a couple easy climbs. I caught myself saying “I definitely need to make a climbing trip out here” several times and made a mental note to reach out to climbing friends later to gauge interest.

We spent most of our time at the Jumbo Rocks area, wandering among the massive tan-colored rocks, laying out on the surface of the rocks and letting the sun warm our skin and hearts. There’s something about carelessly wandering around a foreign landscape, throwing my arms in the air and twirling with and against the wind, that makes me connect with my whole self. Letting the emotions of my heart manifest in frustrating screams, a fit of laughter, or uncontrollable tears, creates space for my heart to show her true colors, and gives my brain the opportunity to catch up and recognize where my heart’s at.

This time, twirling to the beat of the joyful music in my heart, I laughed and smiled, and thanked God for friends like Lor-Shing that ground me and remind me of the gifts He has granted me in this stage of my life. I thanked Him for granting me the opportunity to experience freedom like never before, and trusting me to share my story with the world.

We walked, we danced, we laughed, but it was soon time to say goodbye. Goodbyes are difficult, especially when you don’t feel like you’ve had enough time to properly catch up. I still had so much I wanted to do with Lor-Shing, but she had to return to her ever-changing life in Los Angeles so at 2pm, she dropped me off in downtown Palm Springs and she was on her way home.

My plan was to wander around the town of Palm Springs until it got dark, then return to the airport to pick up my rental car. I had four hours to kill, and an entire town to explore, so how bad could it be? I didn’t realize that Palm Springs was a very bougie town, and unfortunately didn’t find anything that interested me as I walked around town. I also wasn’t hungry so stopping into a restaurant to enjoy a meal wasn’t an option. I found a quiet spot on a side street and took a moment to enjoy people watching and sitting in silence.

Finally it was time to return to the airport to pick up my rental car - a sweet silver Toyota Corolla. It was already dark, but I wanted to try my hand at night photography so I drove back out to Joshua Tree National Park and spent two hours in the cold trying to capture the light of the stars against the beautiful desert landscape.

Instead of finding a place to sleep for the night, I decided that I would car camp in my rental car so I could be more flexible with my schedule. My next destination was a two hour drive away and my plan was to car-camp in the desert area surrounding it, but after an hour of driving, I was too tired to continue driving. So I stopped in at a 24 hour fitness parking lot and called it a night.

I slept surprisingly well in the Corolla, a much smaller vehicle than my Highlander that I’m used to, but made it work by putting down the back seats and sticking my feet into the darkness of the trunk. I woke up awfully early to take quick shower at 24 hour fitness before heading out to my next destination. After getting freshened up, I drove south along the Salton Sea and witness a beautiful sunrise. The pink and orange sky silhouetted the palm tree farms in such a way that I felt like I was on the beach.

I arrived at Salvation Mountain just as the sun was beginning to peak over the hill. As I was driving up, I could see a couple hundred feet ahead of me the massive lettering on the side of the hill that read “GOD IS LOVE”. The excitement in my heart grew to a skip-and-a-hop toward the vibrant mountain that proclaimed the love of Christ to the world. There were a group of girls taking photos of each other and admiring the 50 foot display of faith and love.

After the girls left, I was the only one remaining and proceeded to walk around the property, examining the hallowed out vehicles that were plastered with the same messages of faith and love. While wandering around, a voice in the distance called out “Good Morning, how are you doing today”? I turned around toward the voice and tried to make out the person who it belonged to. After a couple seconds, I saw a man with crazy curly hair in the shadow of an RV waving and walking in my direction. I answered “I can’t complain. I get to worship Jesus on a Sunday at the most magnificent place in the world”.

He introduced himself as Ron, one of the caretakers of the mountain. He told me about each of the cats that lives on the property, their different personalities and a couple anecdotes about each of them. As other visitors came to have their look, he stayed by my side, shouted a quick greeting and continued on with the conversation we were having.

We didn’t talk too much about faith, although I wish we did. It seemed he was happy to have someone around to listen to stories from his daily life. He was very proud to be part of the salvation mountain family and being a part of the movement to share the love of Christ with others.

For some context, Salvation Mountain lies in a off-the-beaten-path desert town called “Slab City”. Slab City isn’t much of a city at all really, it’s just a collective of vehicle-dwelling folk. Most of the population lived in RVs but it didn’t seem these vehicles were used for transportation at all. Run down tarps and steel sheets held up by wooden posts were makeshift porches outside the entrance of campers ironically decorated with the colors and designs of the desert.

As a charcoal grey Mercedes-Benz Sprinter van sped down the dirt road adjacent to Ron’s home, he let out a snarky comment about “those people” and how they glamorize living out of a vehicle. Oh if only he knew that I was “one of those trendy car-dwellers” too. He’s right though, I don’t understand the lifestyle of the vehicle-dwellers in Slab City, and I hope I don’t seem like I claim to be. That honest comment that Ron made gave me a lot to think about on my drive back to Palm Springs.

Per Ron’s suggestion, I made a quick stop at East Jesus - a whimsical art installation just down the road. From the fuselage an old Cessna plane to a huge wall of old tube televisions, this interesting destination did not disappoint. Here I met a man of many names, but apparently the people here call him “Wizard”. His long beard, excessively tall and crooked wooden cane, and long tattered trench coat suggested that the nickname was founded from his appearance rather than his mystical powers. Wizard aimlessly pointed at several parts around the property and claimed creative genius and manual effort on several of the art pieces. Free from his wizardly mysterious speech about the purpose of the East Jesus art installation, I walked around to each piece to appreciate the handiwork.

After a morning of interesting conversation and much to think about, I drove back to Palm Springs, enjoying the Palm Tree farms along the way.

Next stop was the Moorten Botanical Garden. I heard about a beautiful cactus greenhouse and was excited to see it for myself. The botanical garden held all kinds of desert plants, from the dense fountain-style leaves of the Aloe Vera plant to tiny button cacti. At the entrance of the garden and final stop of the botanical garden loop was a shop with an array of succulents and desert plants that were for sale. I desperately wanted one but my small living space and airplane baggage limitations held me back from making a spontaneously rash decision to purchase a new plant friend.

With a couple hours remaining before I had to head to the airport, I decided to head out to Indian Canyon to see the biggest California Fan Palm Oasis in the world. I didn’t bring any athletic shoes so I wasn’t going to be able to go on a very aggressive hike, but I found two short hikes to explore.

The loop hike at Andreas Canyon was a living, ecological dichotomy. In the desert hills of Agua Caliente Nature Preserve was a lush green oasis sustained by the stream formed from the snowmelt of mountains many miles away. Walking into the valley of the dry barren mountains, I felt my lungs being coated with the moisture from the oasis surrounding me. To the right of the trail was a rock wall carved out from years of steady water erosion, and to my left was the flowing of a crystal clear stream that supplied the nutrients for the massive palm trees that provided my shade.

The loop took me on on the canyon on the south bank of the stream where I could get a aerial view of the oasis against the backdrop of red stone. Back when I would go hiking in the Pacific Northwest, I would be in awe as I looked at a mountaintop view of dense forest around me and ask the daunting question “How many trees do you think we can see from here?”. Asking this question at this particular spot on my hike didn’t seem so daunting. In fact from where I stood, I could probably give you an accurate number within the hour.

It was growing dark and the time to return the rental car was creeping near so I began my drive back to the airport. With a camera full of photos and a happy heart filled with new memories with an old friend, I was heading home to Denver with a smile on my face.

[melissaswimbikerun]

California: The Ultimate road trip

Normally I keep this blog about my triathlons/training and staying away from my usual mundane life. However for the last 22 days I have led a much more colourful existence road tripping around California and Nevada. And, just so I don’t stray away from the main theme of this blog, I did do a triathlon during my trip! So here is a write up of our time in the USA. Also there is more to come as we are only the first part of our journey as our travels continue on to New Zealand now.

Outline of our route and 2100 miles traveled 

On Monday 20th August Nathaniel and I began our journey. We said goodbye to our loved ones and got on a flight from Manchester to Los Angeles.

Jessica and I at my leaving party

Ready for our adventure at Manchester Airport

We arrived at Los Angeles International at 3pm local time (11pm Greenwich mean time - so we soon got quite blurry eyed!). After security and collecting bags and bikes, we got a taxi to meet our home for the next 22 days. Meet Oliver, the converted Dodge Campervan!

Oliver the campervan 

After some paperwork we set off on the road. We stopped at one of the biggest supermarkets that I have ever seen. Very tired by this point it was a struggle to scout the miles of shelves for food and equipment. We spent far too long searching for a coffee-maker (which was probably the only thing in the world this massive supermarket didn’t sell).

We drove out of the city and eventually got too tired to function any more (it was about 5am UK time!!) so we pulled over in a quiet lay-by in the Angeles National Forest and stayed there for the night. (Luxury, I know!)

Lake Tahoe

It was a 400 mile drive to Lake Tahoe. We could distract ourselves from the journey by the scenery as we drove along the Sierra Mountains. We stopped for lunch at the beautiful Mono lake.

Having an interlude from driving at Mono Lake

We arrived at Lake Tahoe at around 5pm and it was more beautiful that we could have imagined. The biggest bluest lake surrounded by mountains! We were staying at Meeks Bay Campground for 6 nights. It had its own beach and each site had a BBQ and fire pit. We had to put all our food and toiletries in a bear lockers so the bears can’t get hold of anything.

The beautiful lake Tahoe on our loop cycle 

The bear thing made me scared of venturing to the toilet block alone in the night for a few days. We never did see a bear in Tahoe though. One morning we did wake up and find the bear locker wide open, however the only thing we found eating our food was a pesky Blue Jay pecking at the loaf of bread! (We must not have closed it properly). The biggest mammal we saw was a beaver swimming in the creek near our campsite. He was a good spot.

The crystal clear lake was beautiful to swim in and we swam most days. The 2nd day we cycled the 70 mile loop of the lake with a cafe stop leaving the hilliest 16 miles to cycle with full bellies and 3 pints of beer each inside us.

Incredibly scenic cycling at Tahoe

We didn’t do too much at strenuous as we were tapering for the Lake Tahoe middle distance triathlon at the weekend. We did some running which I found really difficult - probably due to the 2,600 meter altitude that Meeks Bay was at!! At least we had a few days to acclimatise to the thin air.

Relaxing at the lakeside beach post ride

Pancakes for breakfast!

Checking out the triathlon venue 

Nathaniel and I during an altitude trail run 

Lake Tahoe middle distance triathlon

The morning of the triathlon it was an early wake up at 5am and Nathaniel and I scrabbled around in the cold and dark having cereal and gathering up all I triathlon stuff. It was a short cycle up the road to the triathlon venue.

We had already registered the previous day so we had plenty of time to prepare before the start. Than racked his bike next to me and transition and I guided him where to place his shoes and race belt etc. It was really nice to have him doing a triathlon with me, get we were both quite adamant to beat each other.

It was freezing waiting for the triathlon to start and we found the warmest place to wait for the delayed start was actually in the lake. The gun went off 15 minutes late at 7:15am.

The swim:

It was hard to site the bouys initially due to the sunrise but after the first turn it became easy. The swim was relatively uneventful- apart from losing my swim hat early doors, which I just stuffed down my wetsuit and continued hatless. There was no big groups to draft and I found myself alone for the majority of the swim except when I caught a man up near the end of the swim. I came out the water 6th Overall and 2nd Female. Leaving Nathaniel 15 minutes to claw back.

The bike: After running up a gigantic hill in T1 during the usual fumbling with my wetsuit I was off on my bike. Out on the road there was a guy to pick off. I felt strong on the flat, TTing along on the drops of my road bike. The course consisted of 2 out and back North portion (flat) and 1 our and back portion south (so very hilly). Approaching the turn around point I could see one other woman in front. I overshot the first turn in fact because a competitor in front carried on zooming up the road. I have learnt better than to trust other competitors so did a double take and looked at my distance - this was the turn around point! During the outs and backs I was making some progress against the woman in front and was keep Nathaniel at bay on the flat but it was soon time for the hills... This is when it started to get ugly!! The hills destroyed my legs as I picked off many competitors, only to be over taken again on the long technical descents. My legs began to struggle at the south turn around but I had caught up the woman in 1st place. I overtook her at a pace (proving a point, I guess). I think she must have seen me as a threat as she cycled away at a pace I couldn’t keep on the next hill. I could see Than on my way to T2 - still about 15 minutes behind (It’s out that he had a puncture on the first portion of the hilly section or he would have been sure to eat into my time buffer!)

The run. (A.k.a. The struggle!) After a speedy T2 (I got an applaud from the crowd for my discount and another competitor complemented the speed of my T2), it was time for the run. Heading off like a bat out of hell I began to struggle with my breathing - I needed to check my pace. The path soon turned off the concrete back and soon turned into a technical dirt track and, at one point, even a sandy beach! The air was hot and dry and, now, dusty. I chatted to another competitor, whom later learnt my name and gave me encouragement whenever he saw me. He soon ran off in the distance as I struggled controlling my breathing in the altitude. Exhaustion and altitude forced me to adopt a run-walk strategy. I expected Than to come cruising by any moment - but he never came (i presumed that he was having a worse time than me!). As I approached the finish I was going over scenarios in my head how I could brag to Than about my victory without putting him off another triathlon.

Smiles at the finish line Up the hill to the finish and who should be standing there with a beer but Nathaniel Manning!! I was extremely confused. Maybe he had pulled out?! Nope it transpires that Than was also confused as he had indeed “finished”. Later we discovered that he and some other competitions had missed at 1.5 mile section near the start of the run course which was poorly signed. Than thought I was ahead still and was worried when he looked about at the finish. He apparently also asked the medical tent for me... I’m dubious as he also had time for 3 beers in all this worrying and looking!!... Anyway a record was set - officially my slowest middle distance triathlon at 6 hours and 7 minutes!! Then again it was the hardest middle distance I have ever done. I still kept hold of 2nd female overall and came 1st in my age group. Nathaniel also got a prize for 2nd place in his age group (coming a good 20mins ahead of 3rd so we didn’t confess about the unintentional shortcut!). We were awarded with beer glasses and trucker hats! Cheers. And also Nathaniel is game for another triathlon... yet he still has to complete an actual middle distance triathlon!!

Las Vegas.

Following the triathlon we stayed one more night at the beautiful Meeks Bay and BBQ’d the biggest steak you have ever seen! The morning after we packed up Oliver, the campervan, and drove back south over the mountains and then the vast empty dessert - we were heading to “Las Vegas Baby” (the comment that Than would intermittently yell whilst popping the horn!).

The masses of sky scrappers appeared out of the desert and closer we got the buildings grander and the traffic heavier.

We found the Venetian hotel and waved goodbye to Oliver in the hands of the valet parking. After a long wait to check in we opened the door to the best hotel room I’ve ever stayed in (I’ve lived a sheltered life or maybe it felt it in comparison to our Campervan).

Vegas was everything I expected it to be big, fancy and at the bottom of everything fake. I wanted to give the city a chance.

We had a quick flutter on a slot machine before heading to our dinner reservation at The Cut. It was my treat for Nathaniel’s birthday which I regretted when the bill came - totalling US $500 (a bargain considering there was a wine on the wine list for $24,000!!). However it was the most delicious steak however Nathaniel had to finish it as a migraine had ruined my appetite.

Than and his expensive belated birthday steak 

We ended that night with a bit of Blackjack. $100 down I retired to bed. 

The second day we explored all the lavish casinos, trying our luck with a few chips as we went. We made our way down the strip to the New York New York hotel were he had dinner and watched a Cirque de Soilei show.

The following morning we had went on a tour of the Grand Canyon. Firstly we got to see areal views from the small plane and then driven to 2 different view points. Our photos really don’t do the Canyon justice - it’s size is just incredible! Landing back in Las Vegas we pigged out on the final night in the Bellagio buffet. Apparently the best buffet in the world but I don’t have much to compare it still. But it still being full the majority of the next day if good - then it was!!

Views over the Grand Canyon 

Mammoth Lakes.

We decided to visit mammoth lakes on our way to Yosemite. It was a good decision as this place is beautiful. We stayed up from the town at a place called Twin Lakes: aptly named due to the 2 lakes surrounded by granite cliffs and waterfalls.

We easily found a campsite on the first night. However, unbeknown to us, it was a big bank holiday weekend in the USA (labour day) so we were demoted from campsite to car park for the second night.

Views from our run in Mammoth

We did a beautiful run from twin lakes to Mary lake and around Horseshoe lake. Then lunch before we cycled up mammoth mountain to the panoramic view point. This tough day deserved beer so we stopped at Mammoth Brewing company tasting rooms. Than came out with a huge tasting platter and we selected our favourite for a few more pints (conscious that we had to cycle 4 miles up hill home!).

Cycling in Mammoth 

Than bought me a lovely tankard from the tasting room however I couldn’t hide my disappointment that it wasn’t a mammoth brewing co cycling jersey.

Tasting at Mammoth Brewery 

Yosemite National Park.

We were lucky enough to get to camp inside this breath-takingly beautiful National Park and did we make the most of it?!? 74 miles of footpaths and scenery was explored. Our legs ached but we will remember those spectacular views forever.

On our first full day with did a very ambitious 10 mile walk which ended up being 17 hilly miles however we were rewarded by seeing a bear walk across the footpath. A few days later we saw a bobcat on the footpath before he jumped back into the mountain rocks. Along with plenty of deer and birds of prey we have seen a lot of exciting wildlife.

At the river next to the campground

Nathaniel took over map reading after the 17 mile walk we did on the first day (which was supposed to be 10)

Walking up to North Dome (Via Indian rocks)

Half dome in the background

The bridge over Yosemite falls

Vernon falls in the background

Cooling off after a long walk in the river

Admiring a giant redwood

San Francisco

After 6 days of paradise in Yosemite it was time to continue travelling. Headed to the west Coast for San Francisco. San Francisco is a lively vibrant city which had a cool feel to it.

We swam in a beautiful outdoor lido in the Mission district which was full of lane swimmers and was a joy to swim laps in. We camped near a surfing beach and nature reserve due to the lagoons. During our 2 nights in San Francisco we did plenty of cycling. The first day 50 miles exploring north of the city and finishing with a burger and a pint in Sausilito.

At Alpine dam

Climbs in San Francisco earn you good views

perhaps the most iconic view

The 2nd day we did a 35 mile loop going through Muir wood. Afterwards we cycled over a very busy golden gate bridge with tourists crashing hired bikes constantly!! Over the over side of the bridge we had BBQ and tasting treats at the Presidio picnic before heading down the highway 1 back towards LA.

After taking 2 days to venture down the HW1. Seeing the sea otters at Monterey on the way. We checked into a hotel in LA ready to fly to New Zealand, our next adventure.

[finding-fluency-blog]

L'acceuil ERASMUS

It’s been a while since I last checked in! I’ve got a lot of things to talk about, some good some not so good, but it’s about time I updated!

The last time I checked in I had just started to settle in a bit more in my new life here in Clermont-Ferrand, talking more French and making a few friends. Well I went to the Welcome talk the following day and that’s when things started to happen. The talk itself was about as average and mundane as and introductory talk could be, there was a lot of information to digest as well, but afterwards there was a special social event organised for the ERASMUS students to go to.

It turned out to be very fun! I wasn’t expecting much since social events back home by Cardiff University didn’t tend to be that good, but as this is France there were lovely hors-d'œuvres accompanied by white and red wine. I am one of those who finds it easier to socialise after drinking some alcohol, so the wine was really good for breaking down whatever social anxieties I had.

At first I lingered around the English students, meeting mostly girls from Ireland and Scotland and chatting about how we’d been spending our time here since arriving. It was fun but as usual I a bit sidelined since there were some big characters I couldn’t compete with.

Then by chance a girl approached with her friend and said hello, so we started talking. I found out she was German and her name was Betül - it took me a few tries to pronounce it correctly. She and her friend Anja were both very nice, so after a while I broke off from the English girls and hung around with Betül. Slowly more German girls joined our conversation and it suddenly became a game of “make Sarah say the difficult German word!” But this was totally fine since I love learning languages!

The event ended at around 7.30 and we decided to grab a drink at a bar together, it was super busy though since Thursdays are apparently the big night out for the clermontois. Nonetheless we had a good time and I had made some friends. I eventually spent more time with Betül the following day, getting our ability test and timetabling done.

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I spent the next day not really doing much as I had some issues with my timetable that couldn’t be resolved until Monday (today - though it’s still a WIP). During the day I had sent a friend request to an English boy called Toby to whom I hadn’t had the time to say hello at the social evening. We got chatting a bit and come 10pm that night we were off for a drink.

On our way there he bumped into 2 German guys he had befriended on Thursday as they were waiting for a couple friends to get drinks with too - it was a Saturday night after all. So we decided to go together and they were also very nice and fun to talk to. Eventually a Slovakian girl called Eva joined (their friend), her English was not as good but that did not stop her from being very entertaining! She invited me to go on a cycle trip the following day along with Christian, Luka, Toby and others I hadn’t yet met. I quickly said yes - any chance to make friends I will take!

Towards the end of our drinking outing Toby had been invited to a nearby club called Baraka, where the infamous Robert or “Robbish” was partying with a fellow Irish friend. So, crazily, we joined them - I thought to myself ‘I am finally going on my first night out in France’. It was different to the clubs that I’m used to in Cardiff but it wasn’t bad at all - I had stopped drinking alcohol at this point so I would have some kind of energy for the bike ride. It was nearly 2:30am when we finally left - although Toby was having all kinds of fun with the two Irish lads, so much fun that he would not be present for the bike ride after getting home at 7am...

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So Sunday arrived, and I set off to meet Christian and Luka and the others at a C-vélo station (C-vélo is the bike renting service in Clermont-Ferrand). Just €2 for half an hour, with the first half hour for free, it was a pretty good deal. The others arrived and we exchanged names. Eva was there obviously, she brought her friend Vanda from Slovenia, Ana from Spain and Yu En Cheah, a Malaysian who studies dentistry in the University of Dundee. We were quite a diverse bunch, but it made for funny conversations later on.

It was a bit of a slow start due to difficulties in hiring our bikes with codes not working and bikes being broken, but we finally set off about half an hour later than planned. We were cycling up hills in about 25 degree heat, it was not easy at all. I had drunk almost all my water before even arriving at the Parc du Montjuzet (our destination).

Sweaty, red faced and tired, we made it too the Parc, only to be met with another 10 minutes of trekking up some more hills. I was suffering in the heat, not used to doing much physical exercise in such heat. I soldiered on though and eventually we made it to a suitable place in the shade where we could finally rest. The view of the city was stunning, the mountains including the Puy-de-Dôme were a majestic backdrop to this petite city that seemed to be encircling the dark shadow that is the Cathédrale Notre-Dame-de-l’Assomption.

We spent maybe an hour resting and joking around, sharing stories and experiences, it was really pure. Yu En made us all laugh with his bad French and the funny things he said about his celibacy.

This is where Luka used his camera to take the photo in this post. He and Yu En are budding photography enthusiasts, Luka is especially good. Maybe he should sell some...

We did some more exploring of the park and found a small van selling crêpes, so I bought a crêpe sucré - with just sugar. French crêpes are great.

Funny story about crêpes though, after we cycled back to the town to leave the bikes, Luka invited us to an event where we would be eating more crêpes and galettes! It was basically a group of people who open their small apartment to French and foreign students looking for a way to socialise and have fun. They put on dinners every weekend with food based on different countries - I’m guessing this time it was French.

I discovered that I am not a fan of galettes (savoury crêpes) as there was a strange taste that did not sit well with me. I felt a bit rude for not finishing it all but I really couldn’t force myself. The rest was nice though, but we were all feeling quite tired from our day out, so after signing up for the rest of the events, which no one was really sure what they were, we said goodbye to the hosts and guests and made our exit. I later found out that it is a Christian society, but that they welcome those wanting to know more about their faith. I don’t think I could or even should pretend to be a Christian, but I am always open for thoughtful and construction conversations about these kind of things!

Needless to say, I slept like a baby last night, completely exhausted, or épuisée. So today I could finally make some progress on getting my timetable sorted out, and although it is still not completely done, I’ve at least been given my carte d’étudiant. Tomorrow I will have my first lesson and I’m slightly nervous but I will be as brave as I can.

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I’m feeling a lot happier now, after having spent meaningful time with people and getting to know them and the city better. I don’t feel so alone, but the fear of being left behind is still there. I hope they won’t get bored of me even if I am slightly quieter and awkward than them.

Long update but, an update nonetheless!

A bientôt!