in scrolling through the 500+ photographs of my trip to the south island of new zealand, it is hard to discriminate which pictures to post and what memories to make public, which are for the world and which ones i want to tell you over some sort of beverage. some parts will inevitably fall in the margins of my notebook, but you should know this: every route was the scenic route, and when the mountains were too thick for radio reception, we sang our way through it all. and i will never forget the way it made me feel.

i want to write a poem for the seashells that get thrown back.

nica & i, two little ladies from new york who ironically met at a pizza party new zealand, are travel addicts. with our money and time in new zealand dwindling down, we are itching to see as much, for as little as possible, before we cross date lines and time-travel backwards into the US. that is where couch surfing comes in. this worldwide website is sort of like the facebook of furniture, where people create a profile for their sofas and offer them to travelers in hopes for the karmic return of a spare cushion when they travel as well. the couch surfing domain does not ask your typical survey questions, but pries “what is your philosophy on life?” “what is one amazing thing you have seen or done?” and “what are the types of people you enjoy?” apprehension about staying on a stranger’s lazy boy is disarmed as couch hosts are rated and comments are provided by people who have stayed with them before. offer your couch to a world traveler for free, ask of them in return only to share their experiences with you and maybe some chocolate. (i think this concept could change things for the better. need a place to stay? forget hotels.  hostels, and spending money. surf a couch, ride the wave of generosity and unique experience.)

Two weeks ago I had to wave goodbye to Prague.  I took an uneventful flight to Dusseldorf and on to New York.  I was sad to leave that city because I learned to love it over the past 4 months.  It was quite a shock stepping into my house because everything seemed foreign but still everything was untouched.  I became restless in my house living in suburban NY because it was such a contrast to the bustling city.

I didn’t think this would be an issue coming back but it was incredibly  strange hearing everyone speak English. In Prague you hear English every so often and try to listen in to hear what the people are talking about but when everyone is speaking the language my brain had a hard time adjusting to it all.  As odd as it was, I welcomed the change.  As each day goes by I keep remembering all the things I did abroad and it makes me happy that I decided to participate in such an experience.

for the homesick
who some days count the sunsets
instead of paint them