Well, I’m in France. Pernes les Fontaines to be exact. I realized I didn’t really make much of a public announcement about my plan to make a move back over to Europe. I’m not really sure who I told and who I didn’t. Partly because I was strangely not excited about it and also because I don’t really have much other information to give other than I supposedly got a job as a trip leader for a company called Backroads, but I technically don’t have a contract yet, and I don’t know anything about my life after May 3. I have no idea when I start working or when I end. I got hired in January after a hiring event in Berkeley and then had 4 months of interim. You would think with all this time inbetween I would’ve been quite on top of things, but I let’s be honest–I never learn. Extra time is a curse for me, as the phrase “I have plenty of time” turns quickly into “Oh crap, I never did that!” So hopefully it all works out.
As pathetic as it sounds, I have realized during this process that out of all things I’ve done in life, muchaless by myself, I have never participated in an organized “thing” that doesn’t hold your hand along the way. Either it’s just me traveling by myself, so having little organization and just winging-it is fine, because I’m the only one it impacts and don’t mind the spontaneous, mishap adventures along the way. Or, I get very grumpy emails from Austrians telling me I haven’t done something yet, and everything you need to do is completely spelled out every step of the way. There were no reminder emails sent about paperwork, and there were no snacks upon arrival or a number to call if you got scared at night. You’re supposed to have your shit together. So, here’s a new curve on getting my shit together. We’ll see how it goes. I feel like I have little clue of what’s going on, but the clue that I do have tells me that it’s kind of supposed to be that way at this moment and that no one really knows what’s going on.
I didn’t take this picture, as I haven’t really seen past the grocery store, but this is Pernes.
The description of this job is basically you’re an active adventure guide. Trips can be biking, biking and hiking, just hiking, or biking, hiking and kayaking combo. Backroads operates year around and is in over 40 countries. You’re not always leading trips, as they like to diversify your experience and there’s many other things to be done. Other jobs are going to be working as a co-leader, moving vans (15 passenger, manual, with a trailer. Yikes.) from one country to another for tours, and doing site scouting (i.e. getting sent to a country and getting acquainted and getting a paid to find cool spots to eat, etc. Sounds terrible.). I’m supposedly going to be given a schedule after training, and then every 45 days you get a new one. Not even the company knows where’ you’re going to be that far in advance because they’re waiting for tours to be booked and seeing where the demand will be for guides.
I spent this last month of April saying bye to everyone, getting in all the Oregon goodness with hiking and biking, cramming in every annual doctors appointment I could, getting in my fill of all the good Portland food and eccentric, weird people, packing up my apartment (with a lot of help from my parents. Thanks, mom and dad), and traded in my long, glorious, acrylic nails for pathetic stubby ones that will be more conducive to things such as bike mechanics–although, for the record I CAN change flat tire with long pointy talons. But seriously, call me vain or whatever you want, saying good-bye to my nails was rather heartbreaking. I managed to keep my packing to 2 bags. Although, one turned out to be nearly 70 lbs (the bag itself weighs 11 lbs though to be fair). Oops. BUT in my Boy Scout and mama bear nature, I’ve packed an entire naturopathic pharmacy of herbs for anything and everything, enough Tulsi and Yogi tea to last a month, gluten free organic pasta (being the good Portlander that I am), gluten free cookies, some cowboy boots, a variety of printed FUPA pants, all the biking clothes I own, too many dresses, a stuffed unicorn and penguin, and much to my dismay had to leave behind the Beyonce sweatshirt that says “I Woke Up Like Dis”, but was able to fit in the Twerk It sweatshirt. And matching crop top. You win some, you lose some.
Good-bye, claws.
So, here we are. After 27 hours of travel I made it to the apartments where I’ll be for the next 2 weeks. They retrieved me and a few others from the train station last night and dropped us off at our bare apartments with a box of pasta (good thing I had brought my own gluten-free variety!) and sauce and a couple yogurts, got pointed in the direction of the supermarket that would be open in the morning, told we’d meet early Monday morning and that was that. I thought we’d be staying in a complex with just our group, but it’s an actual vacation spot. None of my other apartment mates are here yet, it’s been just me. So I called dibs on the big bed, been running around in underwear and blasting all the Beyonce, Die Antwood and 2 Chainz I can before I have company. Nearly had a meltdown this morning when I thought I might not make it to the store in time before it closed at noon (because it’s Europe. A miracle something’s even open!) and be rationing cranberries and Clif Bars for the next 36 hours. But, I made it. And I got coffee. Crisis averted. Tomorrow morning we meet at 7:30 to go biking and then the games shall begin.
Gurl You A Fish 