Even if they are clearly animal bones, it was still scary given the context of an abandoned ranger station in the middle of nowhere..
Monday, May 28th
Waking up this morning and knowing I had to go back to Irvine was kind of depressing to say the least. I wanted to stay there and chill with that 5 year old for the rest of my life. Although we had to start heading back, there is no way anyone could say the experience was over, and the drive back ended up being an epic quest in itself.
Mark took us to breakfast in another sleepy beach village, and I feasted out. We shared poached eggs and belgian waffles, and oh my god they were good. Breakfast is always my favorite meal, even though I can’t pronounce it correctly (me and my brother and sister all have this weird habit of saying breakfrast). Then we went the scenic route around farm land, getting to the top of a mountain where you can see 7 dormant volcanoes, one of which is Morrow Bay rock. Although it was kind of covered by cloud, Morrow Bay is my dad’s favourite wine ever, and so it was kind of cool to see the area (apparently the wine isn’t even made there but who cares). Being on the top of one mountain gave Mark the genius idea of sending us back via Mount Potrero, that has an elevation of over 8,000ft.
We set off and straight away loved the more inland, mountainous route, so much so that we forgot about anything that could possibly be important.. like petrol. After 2 and a half hours of constant uphill, we were out. But rather than panic and freak the fuck out, we put on the Beatles, took a couple videos and laughed at what idiots we are. It’s impossible to be unhappy when you look outside the window and can see all of the central basin of California for thousands of miles. I couldn’t capture the beauty in picture from inside the car, and we kind of forgot about the possibility of stopping and just taking it all in for a while, so I don’t have much good documentation of it. However, when we came to a forrest and saw a ranger station with about 7 cars parked, we thought we had gotten lucky and decided to stop by. Little did we know that we’d stumbled across the set of a horror movie.
After knocking on the various buildings to no avail, we got kind of a creepy vibe. Then we heard the sound of radio reports coming from the building furthest from where we parked. We headed over hoping for the best, but the place was totally abandoned, apart from the speaker that constantly blasted indecipherable reports. Losing all hope, we started searching for some form of rubber tubing to steal petrol from one of the cars around. Although we came across chain saws, barbed wire, crowbars, and many other pseudo-weapons from a truck labelled “United States Army”, no pipe. We pretty much decided this was how kids die in movies, and that it was better to bounce sooner rather than later. I decided our best shot was to flag someone down, and luckily at that moment a couple pulled over by a map at the base of the station and I asked them for directions. Somehow, there was a gas station not even two miles downhill from where we were, so we would be able to cruise it. Walking back over to Sean and the car I came across the bones of some animal, I assume deer because of how big they were. Generally, when there is an abandoned ranger station in the middle of nowhere, and you find bones in a pile on the ground, you get the fuck out. But it was scary in a good way and I’m so glad we decided to stop there rather than just continuing for two miles and missing out on all the fun. Sean did manage to find a perfect pipe just as I’d found out about the gas station, but we decided to be safer rather than sorry and left to go fill up.
Cruising down the mountain, we turned around and saw huge amounts of smoke billowing up from the trees, spreading at a ridiculous rate. The irony of the forrest fire was that we had passed a sign in the woods saying “chance of forrest fires today- low”, and both Sean and I had looked at each other at the time and thought it seemed pretty wrong. Everywhere was dry and hot, the perfect conditions for a fire. So thank god we were out of the woods by the time it started and I really hope no one was hurt, but it was kind of cool to see. If we’d really broken down out there, who knows what would have happened to us, but it really felt like all the forces of the world were helping us out in the pursuit of our Personal Legend.
Each step of the way and detour added to the experience, with possibly the exception of the tree Sean forced me to climb in SB that I ended up getting stuck in, then cutting my knee and hurting my foot jumping out of. But yeah, I definitely wish I’d had a couple more of these trips during the year, but it’s not like my time here is over. I have three more weeks until school ends and another three weeks after that, and we have so many plans. Going to a Padres game, followed by tequila shots in Tijuana and horse riding on the beach, climbing half dome in Yosemite and hiking in Meer woods are all on the list, and I have no doubt we’ll get them all done.
Unfortunately, my uploads appear to have blown up my phone, so I’ll post the videos and pictures from today another time.
Sunday May 27th
Driving along such a beautiful route, you can’t help but start to contemplate life. On the one hand, travelling around and meeting loads of new people is great, but on the other, I don’t just want to be a tourist. Randomly popping in and out of people’s lives, having fun but not making meaningful relationships is my idea of wasting your time. Equally, having adventures for the sake of being able to say you’ve had them is a waste. So, you have to go and explore the world, but never forget the oil in your spoon, simple. Or so the alchemist makes it out to be. The two days so far were great, and I really fell in love with both the places and the people I met, but I stopped thinking that I’d wasted a year doing nothing. Because falling in love and truly being something special to someone can never be a waste, and love can never be such a bad thing. I’ve learned so much, and I feel genuine peace looking back over the year. The adventure stopped just being about getting to the destination and I really took in everything around me, so when we ended up totally lost and unable to kayak because of too strong winds, I didn’t care.
If we hadn’t gotten lost, we wouldn’t have ended up at a random grave yard from the 1800’s, which ended up being really cool. Most of the people in that cemetery died young, and we walked around the sad, old graves of 6 months and ten year old kids, making up stories about their lives and how they died. We were so interested in the lives behind the graves that we nearly didn’t notice the life growing on one. Hundreds of intricate and beautiful cacoons covered one, with moths (yes butterflies would have been better but whatever) flying all around above us. I’ve never seen how a caterpillar transforms into the cacoon, and it astounds me how hundreds and thousands of years of evolution has given them the capabilities to do so. But seeing the kind of gross slimey beginnings, where the caterpillar starts to squish itself down, gave me a new appreciation for their life, and life in general.
We managed to get directions and leave with a newfound morbid fascination for graveyards (thank you so much for that one Sean). I was kind of nervous about meeting Sean’s uncle, he told me he was cool, but going from 5 days in a row partying to chilling with old people seemed like it would be slightly lame. I have never been more wrong about anything in my life (well maybe one other thing).
Mark is the coolest person I have ever met. He is 61, doesn’t look a day over 40 and has the attitude of a 25 year old. Straight away I know I’m going to like this, when I step into the house and see spears and incredible pictures covering the walls (all of which he took himself, he has a gallery opening in French Polinesia in a few weeks).
He was a doctor, until he broke his neck and he lost the skills in his hands needed for neo-natal medicine (it turns out he actually delivered Sean). Rolling with the punches, he switched from one incredible career to another, and is now a lawyer. Choosing to spend half his life in the most gorgeous and homely town I’ve been to, and half in Tajiti seems like a perfect way of living a life of travel and love. He’s the only American to have been granted citizenship there, and he has personally written laws to benefit the locals. Only 2 years ago he was given a traditional tribal tattoo by the village elders, using the method of banging each drop of ink in with a bamboo stick. The manta ray is filled with meaning and culture that I haven’t begun to understand, all I know is that next time I ink my body, I want it to be just as personal and amazing. I wish I had a picture of him and his tattoo, because all the stories he told me inspired me to live my life as best as I possibly can. The thing is, despite having every right to be, he is in no way pretentious. He swears like a sailor (even around his grandson, which I found hilarious) and loves to joke around.
Now back to the sequence of events. We arrive at the house and quickly meet Atreyu, the cutest and most grown up 5 and 3/4 year old ever. 5 minutes after we met, he made me a flower out of pipe cleaners, and I will try to keep it safe forever. Who said chivalry is dead and that men don’t know how to treat women anymore?
So, we pile in Marks car and head to San Louis Abisbo. I’m positive that I’m going to move there at some point in my life. The town has this distinctly East Coast vibe that I haven’t found anywhere else in California; it reminded me so much of a town called Rye in New York, only way bigger and way better. There is an old mission that is one of 2 left in California that’s still in use. When we walked in, Atreyu pointed to the statue of Jesus on the cross and asked if he was the owner of the mission. An American kid who doesn’t know who Jesus is; an unbelievable breath of fresh air. We walk down the street, Sean on one side of him and me on the other, playing the game I used to love so much as a kid, that I dubbed “one-two-three woo” where we send him flying on the count of three. He has literally no reservations and hangs on to whoever he wants whenever he wants. He is adorable.
This creek is really beautiful, and the fact that old bars playing jazz music line the top makes the perfect atmosphere. This is the moment when Atreyu first managed to skip a rock, something I can’t even do. Walking around the town more and more, I fall in love with every aspect of it, again, I wish I had more pictures to describe what I mean, but when I live there I’ll be sure to take loads. So we get back to the house, and straight away get plied with wine and affection. Atreyu decides to take our relationship to the next level by sitting on my lap, pretending to be a cat and snuggling into me; my heart actually melted. Mark shows us the incredible dollhouse he’s building for his other granddaughter who lives in Philidelphia, it’s practically my height and every piece was hand cut by him over the last year. It’s the kind of thing I would have died to own, and she better appreciate how lucky and loved she is. We order Chinese, drink yet more wine, and the sad moment comes when he has to leave with his mum. He’ll probably forget who I am in a few days, but that kid was amazing and said more insightful things than most people I know now. Mark told me a story that demonstrated this; he cried when he was given a medel at a baseball game because he believed he didn’t deserve it, and there were kids who had earned it more that day for playing better. I want a kid just like him.
Finally, the evening wound down with hot tubbing in the back garden, which has views of the ocean and by this time, the stars. Everything about this day was perfect.
Saturday, May 26th
With swim suits, shorts and a blanket in hand as Sean picked me up Saturday morning, I was slightly more prepared for the adventures ahead. This time, we headed North to Santa Barbara. In typical Sean style, rather than just sit in the bit of traffic in one of the more rural areas we passed through, he suddenly veered off the road into a lemon and orange orchard. Stealing two of the most delicious blood oranges I’ve ever tasted turned out to be an excellent idea, despite my initial trepidation.
To pass some of the time, he brought along The Alchemist for me to read; also an attempt to reduce my ignorance of good literature. The tale of a shepherd chasing his Personal Legend across Africa to the Pyramids of Egypt struck surprisingly close to home, and I think I’ll need to read it a few more times so I can memorize every single word. Inspiring doesn’t come close, as the theme of overcoming the fear of failure and disappointment is something I’ve struggled with my entire life. Definitely one of my favourites and I’m so thankful to him for introducing me to it.
Our arrival in Santa Barbara started with a tour around the most incredibly gorgeous campus I have ever seen, and I have to say Irvine took a serious hit that day. From the huge (seemingly pointless) tower and ponds in the student centre, to the horseshoe lake that serves a bird paradise, to the private beach with views of the mountain ranges that surround the valley. Just walking around made me so happy and peaceful, I felt all my anger from the last few days kind of just melt into indifference, something I know would not have been possible if I’d stayed in Irvine.
Truly, Santa Barbara is one of the most beautiful and chilled places I’ve ever been. Not a 5 minute drive from campus was the little town where all the students lived and played “snappa” in their front gardens, no one giving a fuck about the drinking age. Instead of knocking on the front door of his friend’s house, (this time Drew, the mildly skinnier Thor lookalike surfer/ engineer was our guide for the night) we slid around the side and waited for him in his room. The house backs onto the ocean, and so we sat on the homemade platform, Sean playing guitar, watching a giant seal swim amongst the surfers bellow. When Drew and Jack (another childhood friend) arrived, we headed to Albertson’s to buy beer and bbq supplies. Unfortunately, Sean’s English fake didn’t exactly fly with the workers and a second trip to a different Albertson’s became necessary. By the time we got home, there were about 20+ people in the garden already eating and drinking, in true SB style. It was probably the most delicious and high class barbeques I’ve ever seen students eat; the 5c paper thin burger patties I’m used to students using, were replaced by ribs, salmon, asparagus and pepers, plus a veggie burger for me. Surprising considering how drunk we all already were before we started cooking. I discovered that I am absolutely terrible at snappa, a game where you throw a dice in the air and try to make in land in between two glasses, and forces you to drink a quarter of your beer every time you miss the table. Needless to say, I was pretty wasted by the end of the game. The evening blurs slightly here, but I know it was fun. The next day, we awoke early and this time watched dolphins to the sound of Drew playing guitar, with a few more randoms ripping bowls next to us on the couch. I had my first breakfast burrito in a restaurant, and liked it a surprising amount. As we headed out at noon, I was pretty bummed. I genuinely never wanted to leave that place, and partially wished I’d gone to school there. However, the adventure had to continue and ocean kayaking awaited us in Pismo beach, another hour up the coast.
This weekend
Sean: “Where do you want to get lunch?”
Me: “Anywhere.”
Sean: “San Diego?”
Me: “Let’s do it.”
The lunch that turned into a 72 hour road trip along the coast of Southern California; the best fucking lunch of my entire life. Over the last few days, I’ve experienced more things than I have done the rest of my trip combined, met some of the most interesting and truly fantastic people I’ve ever come across, and potentially (although possibly melo-dramatic of me) changed my life. I relished every second of the journey and have never been so sad to see the words “Welcome to Orange County” today as we returned. There are too many memories to write down and unfortunately too many to remember, but if I can convey the way every step of the journey made me feel, I can hope to preserve most of the lessons learned.
Friday, May 25th
Beginning with a quick trip to cosco to pick up some cheap gas, we made our way down the coast towards the city I’d been dying to see for the last 8 months. An avid discussion about abortion (as I seem to be having a lot of lately), and a world free from sexual desires or even the existence of the opposite sex later, we found ourselves entering the city limits. We didn’t exactly know what we were going to do once we arrived, and thoughts of UCSD, visiting the San Diego Church of Scientology, Sea World, the Wild Animal Park and the beach all seemed appealing. Unfortunately, buying an $80 ticket for half a day of adventure proved too much for us, and we have only the facebook check-in as a memory of Sea World. We then realized that lunch probably was a good idea after all, and found ourselves at Dicks, a restaurant where the staff hurl menues and cutlery at you and treat you like shit. A surprisingly fun experience and good nachos for the most meat oriented place I’d ever been to. We finally managed to get ahold of Sean’s old school friend and went to his place to decide our next move. Although the UCSD campus may not be quite as nice, living in an apartment overlooking the ocean would be pretty amazing. Trevor told us he was going to go make sandwiches for the homeless at the Sigma Chi house, and I was mildly skeptical at first. But in true frat fashion, of course charity is the perfect excuse for a party, and we were immediately handed a beer along with the PB&J as we stepped through the door. These guys put shame to the kids at Irvine claiming to be frat, decked out in polo shirts, shorts, ray bans and sperries. Sean convinced me to do my second ever keg stand, which is really an experience everyone should do in their lifetime, and to my excitement I actually had a mutual friend from New York with one of the guys, something that so rarely happens to me having moved around so much. Drinking out of a jam jar (jam still intact) was surprisingly good, and I was pretty sad when we decided to go. However, the day was no where near over, and we headed out to Coronado Island Hotel. To our surprise, we were able to break into the pool and spent the next hour soaking in the hottub. After dropping off Trevor and some of Sean’s laundry at his house in a place that sounds more like the name of a disease, we were back in Irvine, and full of ideas for more places to go.
a little late but this is what halloween in ‘merca does to me
my phone had an altercation with a washing machine, and it turns out they dont like water very much.. mother is most displeased.
on another note, the woman in LA couldn’t make it in due to her child being ill which was a semi-huge bummer, but still got a nice pair of heels and earrings and a bracelet to be excited over, don’t want to reveal the outfit until the night though
CBL
So tomorrow I’m going to LA to get my first pair of custom heels made for me, needless to say I’m practically wetting myself with excitement. I’m at 21 pairs and counting, so clearly I have somewhat of a foot fettish.
LA was pretty high on my list of places I need to go while I’m here, and it made me realise that I need to have a bucket list for CA. So here is my CBL:
1-LA; have pictures next to the star walk thing and on Rodeo Dr.
2-San Diego; fit as many anchorman quotes into the trip as physically possible.
3-Las Vegas; get fucked up and marry someone
4-Santa Barbara; stare at hot guys and party on the beach
5-San Fran; ride a cable car
6-Sea World
7-Disney Land
8-Get a medicard
9-Have a bonfire on the beach, a la the O.C.
10-Do a keg stand
11-Surf; this means actually being able to stand on the board
12-Cliff Dive
There are loads of other little things but these are the ones I can think of right now.. will update you on their progress!
So I finally gave in..
After watching my brother and sister mercilessly exploit themselves on the internet through tumblr for the last few years, I’ve given in and decided to get on board. My main motivation is really to have a place to post about my year in California, studying at the University of California Irvine. Inspired by the other reciprocity student’s blogs documenting their times, I feel it’s my duty to inform the world about mine.
I’ve been here for a month and a half now, and honestly it feels like I’ve been here my entire life. Since coming I’ve joined a sorority, Pi Beta Phi, and I can say without a doubt this is the best decision I could have possibly made. Going into the Greek system from a typical cynical and sarcastic English perspective, to say I was a little uneasy about the whole thing is an understatement. Walking by booths COVERED in pink and glitter with girls wearing heels so high they can barely walk and skirts so small you can see most of their arse was slightly off-putting; but nothing could compare to the constant chanting and singing I could hear from 9am onwards from outside my bedroom. However, I went ahead with “formal recruitment” or rush as most of the people refer to it as. Now this is an experience never to forget. For four days I was subject to grueling small talk and was forced to smile so much my cheeks burned for days, not to mention a total loss of voice by the end of the process. Think “Oh my god, do you have an ACCENT??” being asked 200 times in the space of 6 hours, followed almost immediately by “Is England just like Harry Potter??”. After answering “Yes.. everyone is magical and wears capes” the first few times, it became painfully apparent just how little of sarcasm the girls here are able to grasp. I think several may actually be convinced that I am a witch. But somehow, through all of the madness, Pi Phi stood out. Many people have asked me what exactly made them so special, but all I can say is that the girls are real. For once the conversations didn’t entirely revolve around my accent (I really do find it amazing that they are so convinced they themselves don’t have an accent, no matter how much I’ve tried to explain that American IS an accent in itself). I can safely say that I love each and every one of the girls in my chapter, and despite all the strange secrecy and ritual that I don’t really understand, I actually feel like I can call them my sisters. As ridiculously gay as that sounds.
People also ask what we “do” in sororities.. the answer is A LOT. From joining their flag football team (the American version of football of course), where we play other sororities in matches (even though we have lost every game, it’s still so much fun). To helping 5th graders in a deprived area to read. To fundraising events, to “campuswides” where we have a dj and free food for anyone that comes to the house. To belly dancing to facials to movie nights to yoga events to carving pumpkins to eating (apparently most sisterhood bonding requires some form of food). Not to mention venue parties or exchanges with frats. Venue parties themselves are an experience.. everyone crowds onto busses around half 9, absolutely wasted from “pregaming”, because obviously under 21s can’t buy alcohol at the venues. Think 3-9 girls to every guy, depending on the event. and nearly every one has a theme. I think house parties are more my thing..
This is a pretty long first post so I’ll finish it there, have to go dress shopping for my first “Cocktail” next week.
