i know why i travel, but why do you?

I’ve started to inquire within about why I personally choose to travel, so I’ve also started to ask everyone I meet the same question. Why do you travel?

As you can imagine, I’ve heard all sorts of answers. There are some outliers here and there, but I typically get a version of one of three options: someone is running away from something (or someone), they are chasing after something (again, or someone), or they just want to see what the world offers.

At different points in my life, traveling has meant different things to me. When I studied abroad in college, I was still on the because-that’s-what-everyone-does train. I subscribed to that shiz with a three-year auto-renewal contract, man. I loved drinking the Kool-Aid – I even spiked it – especially if that’s what the cool kids were doing—err, I mean drinking. Not to be a total cliché, but isn’t it [a. funny b. sad c. ironic or d. insert preferred word here] how we spend so much of our lives trying to be exactly like everyone else, and then we have that come-to-Jesus-moment, perform a complete 180, and work as hard as possible to stand out? But either way, it’s in the name of being seen and heard, amiright? I digress…

When I made the move to Aspen (to-date one of the most important decisions I’ve made) it was to get the heck out of Dodge, if you know what I mean. I grew up in Minnesota, I went to college in Minnesota, and I got (more like continued) a job in Minnesota post-grad. I was antsy as heck and I needed a change of scenery, so I applied for a job in a place I had never been to before and didn’t know a soul, and moved my life there.

Now I’ve found myself in New Zealand. I’m not running away from anything or anyone, and I’m not chasing after or searching for anything in particular, either. I guess you could say I chose to travel this time because I want to see the world – because yes, that’s true – but there’s more to it that I haven’t been able to put my thumb on until I started to really noodle it. And that “more” is what I’ve been working on putting into words. I have touched on this subject in previous posts in my travel journal, but that’s just surface-level material. This stuff is soul purpose GOLD. Something I can fiercely own and share with the world. Here’s what I’ve come up with:

It’s the people. Oh, the people. Since I’ve been in New Zealand, I’ve met countless humans from all over the world. Mostly Germans and Brits, because they seemingly comprise about 86% of the New Zealand backpacking population, but also people from Australia, Korea, China, France, Canada, Brazil, The Netherlands, Belgium, Japan, and more. It’s truly extraordinary, the fact that I came to a place not really knowing a soul and (almost) instantly felt like I was apart of something bigger than myself. And that I belonged. And that I was exactly where I needed to be. It is a truly beautiful thing – something far too many spend their entire lives trying to find. I have been so inspired, humbled and filled-to-the-brim with gratitude during my time in this extraordinary country filled with extraordinary human beings.

I like to meet people – but I l-o-v-e to connect with people, and oh man have I connected with so many different souls during this adventure. Not via email, not through text, and not by way of screens. Just up close and personal, quality face time. With lots of eye contact and big, hardy belly laughs. (Although I’ll take a Skype date or snail mail any day if I can’t physically be with someone!) I was really sad to leave beautiful, sunny Nelson this past week not because of the white sandy beaches or the mountains that surround the town (although those didn't suck), but because of the people I met at my hostel. I wasn't too keen on moving on - and honestly I'm still a little down about it - but I know that I'll meet even more rad people everywhere I go.

In my time in New Zealand, I have been in constant awe of peoples’ bravery, kindness, passion, compassion, creativity, hospitality, sense of adventure – you name it. The vulnerability that I’ve seen in others while I’ve been traveling has in turn given me the strength I needed to address my own issues with vulnerability and the courage to identify and own them for the sake of cultivating real, authentic connection. Talk about putting yourself out there, man. How scary! But people are doing it all the time, every damn day. All these people – so many on a solo journey – out in the world, rocking their awesome and doing big thaaangs. How freaking COOL, yeah?!

Rather than looking at my vulnerability – such a raw, crucial, and utterly unavoidable human emotion whether we like to believe it or not – as a liability or weakness, I’ve come to see it as an opportunity, a gift. When I allow myself to be daring enough (can you tell I'm a Brene Brown fan yet?) to open myself up to another person and share a part of myself with them – in any way, even a simple hello – I’m making magic. I know, I know, but I’m not sorry. As cheesy as it may be, I stand by my decision of what I just said – it’s pure magic. And each and every time I meet someone new – whether we make small talk or we really dig in and get to know each other – I am reminded that at the end of the day, we’re all more alike than we are different, which is so easy to forget in this big, crazy, wild world we live in.

When we start to recognize and focus on the similarities rather than the differences, that’s when shit gets real. That’s when friendships, big ideas, collaborations, and communities are formed. And from the collective of goodies created when people from every corner of the world, all walks of life come together, that right there is not only magic, but just so fucking cool. Excuse my language. Moral of the story: I like to travel because connecting with other people is - I'm going to revert back to my sixth grade self - really, really cool and fun. Simple as that.

But enough about me and why I travel, I want to know more about why YOU travel, whatever the reason. So, let’s hear it you guys. What inspires you to travel and wander the world? I’d love to know. Let’s get this conversation started! Feel free to use the comments section below.

Stay curious, stay wild, and never stop exploring.

[P.S. if you ever have any questions or would like to chat about traveling solo, exploring New Zealand, or anything else I've blabbed about on my blog please reach out. I would be more than happy to share my experiences and knowledge with you. I mean it.]

from wellington to nelson

A new day, a new week, a new city. A breath of fresh air. I woke up at the ass crack of dawn this morning to figure out the bus system in Wellington to get me to the airport – only to give up before I even started and call a taxi instead. I have no shame. I’m carrying 60 pounds of crap on my body – I am perfectly comfortable treating myself to a cab here and there. All in the name of self love, of course.

And then I sat at the airport for two hours. But hey, I actually don’t mind that. I sat beneath an eerily large and realistic floating sculpture of Gollum (pictured below) and did some writing and reading.

The entire walk in from the terminal doors to the gate doors, I was waiting to be tackled and tazored because I never passed through a security line. I flinched and covered my face every time someone sped past me. Luckily, it never happened – I never went through security. Oh, New Zealand. I guess if you’re flying domestic, it ain’t no thang. No complaints here, I would have had to untie my shoes. I guess I didn’t have to dump out my water bottle either. Noted.

After the quick hop across the pond, I think 25 minutes of airtime total, I arrived in Nelson. Back to the south island for this chick – poor planning on my part, but I had to squeeze in a few more stops before I head back to the other side of the equator. I’ll be here for the next week, driving around my very first rental car. Yup. Watch out, world. I’m whippin’ a little Nissan Tiida (I didn't know what it was either) and I’m highly inexperienced driving on the left side of the road. Weoooo. I made it safely from not only the rental car place to my hostel, but from the hostel to the market and back. I haven’t even turned into oncoming traffic yet! Full disclosure, I’ve had more than handful of wheel-to-curb-contact incidents but no harm, no foul. Yeah?

It’s 70 and sunny here in Nelson, sorry to all my folks in the-way-up-North, but I hear you’re having a Minnesota-style heat wave of your own. Good for you. Soak up that vitamin D.

Anyways, I’ve got some planning to do. I’m going to spend some time in the Abel Tasman National Park and do some hiking and lounging by the beach. For all y’all that have been to Nelson or in the area, what do I have to see or do during my week here? All I’ve got is time.

Stay tuned for more Jenna-driving-on-the-left-side-of-the-road adventures. There are bound to be some great stories coming out of this endeavor.

Cheers!

my first day in queenstown

Welp, I’m on my own. Bright and early yesterday AM my mom and I parted ways and said our “see you laters.”

Now, I’m in Queenstown. What’s the first thing I did once I arrived? Maybe find a map and get my bearings? I got a hair wrap with feathers. Really practical but hey, why not?

The best way I can describe Queenstown is that it’s quite like Aspen, but with a gigantic lake and affordable shopping – and I mean food, clothes, the works. I know that won’t help most of you get a feel for it, but it’s the best I’ve got for now. Here’s a picture so you can at least get a visual. Ain’t she perdy?

After the hair was taken care of, I walked around the local outdoor market for a bit and took some pictures. Hash tag tourist – but hey, this town is chock full of ‘em.

I had sammy and coffee at a great local join called Vudu and Larder– check it out if you make it over here. It’s delish – but be warned, there’s no Wi-Fi. Gasp!

Then it was back to wandering around. I’m not sure at what point I decided I needed one, but I got a phone. I’ll be honest, I’ve never purchased a phone and/or a phone plan without a parent by my side, so I’m pretty pleased with myself. Making big girl moves here, you guys. Basically now I can use as much data (ok, 1 GB, whatever that means) and not have to worry about racking up a hefty bill or desperately asking, “Wi-Fi?” everywhere I go. Everybody wins.

Then, I checked into my hostel. I’ll tell you all about it later – I’m actually quite pleased with my choice and would highly recommend it.

After napping for a bit, I decided to grab some dinner. Wanting something quick and portable so I could take it to eat at the wharf, I stopped at Pita Hut – I never managed to make it to one in the states, so I figured I’d give it a go. I met a cool dude from Chicago who works there – my first friend! #solotravelerproblems

Then, I decided to go for my first hike, because I guess I didn’t get enough action already. Oh boy. There is seriously nothing like climbing a mountain to remind you how un-physically fit you are. I was sweating b-u-c-k-e-t-s and wheezing like I smoke 2 packs a day (I don’t smoke, for the record) and I ran out of water about 18 minutes into the round-trip 2-hour hike. Yeah. But of course, it was stupidly beautiful. I met a mountain goat once I got to the clearing at the top (not quite the summit) and I named him Pete. Have y’all ever seen the YouTube videos of goats screaming? That’s what I got to listen to as I soaked in the panoramic views. Friggen’ hilarious. Anyways, I got to enjoy the sunset as I made my descent back to town - just idyllic.

I stopped at the grocery store on my way back to the hostel to grab some snacks for the next couple days, and then I decided to forgo a night out on the town and hit the hay early.

I’d say it was a pretty rad first day a. solo and b. in Queenstown. More to come soon. Stay beautiful friends.

wait, why am i here?

I’m not sure if you guys knew this about me, but I’m an introvert. Surprise? I’m an INFJ to be exact. Crowds terrify me. I’m shy – at first. I tend to listen and observe more than I speak – definitely only at first. But once I warm up to someone, good luck getting me to stop talking – then I’m relentless. I’m easily intimated by people, although I don’t think that has as much to do with my introversion as a psychological thing.

So naturally, there’s some cognitive dissonance going on here - I mean in my own mind, at least. Despite my slight introversion, I’ve found myself on the exact opposite side of the world from home, jobless, homeless, and not knowing anyone. WTF? How did I get here? I’m not entirely sure, but here I am.

 Full disclosure: I’m kind of freakin’ out here, man. I said farewell to my mom bright and early this morning and hopped on a plane to Queenstown. It’s REAL now. I’m on my own – my safety blanket is currently en route back to ‘Murica. And I’m sitting here in this café – which has great food, in case you were wondering – trying to talk myself down from the ledge. Oh boy, it would be so easy to hop back on the first plane to the States. I’m not going to lie, it’s tempting. I even did a little search on-the-line to see how much a one-way ticket back home costs – it costs a whole lot, as you probably already knew. But I texted my person (shameless self promo: I have free international texts, so send away) and she managed to cool my nerves and give me a little shot of confidence, which she tends to do, and that’s why she’s my girl.

If you hadn’t caught on yet, this “travel journal” of mine is a space where I work things out, because blogging is cheaper than therapy. Ha, amiright? So bear with me while I try to sort out this big, looming question: why am I here?

Well, I l-o-v-e to meet people; I really enjoy cultivating meaningful relationships (but don’t we all?). I live for that shit! (Remember though, I’m an introvert - I do much better connecting with people when we’re one-on-one or in a small group.)

The world – the universe, really – and all that it encompasses – fascinates me. I have an insatiable curiosity to learn about and experience it all. I want to explore every last nook, cranny, and crevice.

I’m a storyteller. This is fuel for my fire, so to speak.

Apparently, I like to shove myself out of my comfort zone and see what happens. I guess it’s my way of finding my place in the beautiful, chaotic mess we call life.

OK, I feel a lot better…for now. I’m back on track with where I need to be in order to not to lose my shit and turn right back around. Time to take a break from staring at the screen and get out and explore. Stay tuned for more freak-outs and adventures from yours truly. Stay wild, stay curious y’all. And come visit me.

the big airport food fail

I have made a horrible, terrible decision.

So, picture this. It’s 5:47am and I’ve just arrived at the domestic terminal of the Auckland Airport to catch a flight down to Queenstown. Mind you, I am NOT a morning person. I don’t remember the last time I rose before 7:30am, and that’s still earlier than I’d prefer to start my day. I digress. I print out my boarding pass, leave my body bag (AKA my big ass backpack) and then proceed to follow the signs to gates 20-33. I’m at gate 32, in case you were wondering. Along the way, I come across a food court of sorts. I’m hungry, I haven’t eaten anything yet. I’m always hungry, actually. Literally always. There are noodle places, smoothie places, a McDonald’s – there’s always a McDonald’s – etc. I look at a few menus, but my mind is really on getting through security, because I mean if you’ve ever been to an airport in the States, you know how big the struggle can be. Anyways, in a haste to make sure I’m not pressed for time as they make sure I’m not carrying any weapons of mass destruction or full-sized toiletries, I forgo the food lines and make a B line for security.

As you can probably guess, I make it through in no time. Like, the fastest I’ve ever made it through security. It’s funny how things work out like that. You’re probably wondering if I took the time to see if the security line was long and then decide if I’d take a hot second to grab a bite to eat – yes, I did. Notice the line, that is. But remember, I’m not a morning person and it’s the ass crack of dawn – I’m not yet running at fully capacity.

As I head towards my gate, I catch a glimpse of a vending machine out of my peripheral. Noted. I keep walking, with that looming, awful feeling that you’ve just missed out on something huge – breakfast. I missed breakfast. As I approach my gate, my suspicions are confirmed – the food is all behind me, on the other side of the security line and there’s no turning back. My heart sinks. I check around the corner just to be absolutely sure, but there’s nothing. No food in sight. Reluctantly, I swing back around to the vending machine to grab a Snickers (t’s just like in the commercials, I turn into a raging diva if my blood sugar levels get too low) but it’s full of water and soda, damnit! That just won’t do. The word Hangry (yes, with a capital H) comes to mind. I then slink back to my seat at the gate, no food in belly, totally defeated.

So, now I’m sitting here at my gate, breakfast-less and rather hungry with 50 whole minutes (!) until boarding and no idea if I’ll be getting breakfast on the place. Sometimes you just have to learn the hard way – or in my case, the hungry way.

Fast-forward an hour. I sit down in my seat next to two ladies drinking coffee, and I ask them where the heck they got the coffee. Well, as you may have already guessed, there was in fact a café past the security line - on the opposite side of where my gate was. I know there are at least a lot of you that are wondering how the hell I’m going to make it, and I don’t blame you. I wonder that same very thing dozens of times every single day

I thought I’d share my experience with y’all in case you ever find yourself well, really, anywhere or doing anything. Look up. Pay attention. Be aware. Follow the smells. Don’t ever let yourself go without a hearty breakfast like I did.

The end.

the long way there

Four airports, three different planes, 22 hours in the air, one delayed flight, one missed flight, and one last-minute rental car later, I'm pleased to announce that we have made it to New Zealand safe and sound (insert sigh of relief here.)

Traveling, man. It's truly a labor of love - not to mention a test of your ability to problem solve on your feet. In my experience, it's best to plan for the worst case scenario, i.e. missing all of your connections, and then be pleasantly surprised when things go according to plan.

Our first flight from Minneapolis to LAX was uneventful, which is always a blessing when you're traveling. No news is good news, as they say. I'd give us a +1 just for making it to the right airport. (Unfortunately, yes. We did once go to exactly the wrong airport. That was fun.)

However, our second flight got off to a bit of a rocky start. There were late passengers and technical difficulties, which on their own are enough of a problem, but together they're just bad news bears. We ended up sitting on the plane at the gate for an hour and a half, were asked to de-board the plane, and shortly after were asked to re-board the plane (there were a lot of not-so-happy-campers, let me tell ya.) Two hours and 15 minutes past our schedule departure, we were finally on our way.

I won't go into extreme detail, but oh my POD is first class amazing. (See what I did there, eh?) Pods are a beautiful thing, especially when you're stuck on the plane for 14 hours - which is how long it took to get from LAX to Sydney International Airport. Not pictured: my extremely sexy compression socks that go ankle to knee. Yum.

Rough breakdown of the 14 hours spent in flight:

1.5 hours eating
12 hours sleeping
30 minutes awake/using lavatory

My god, do they wine and dine you in first class. I'm talking a full fledged five-course dinner, snacks on snacks on snacks, breakfast, and lots of bevies. I wasn't hungry for literally any of it but I ate every single thing that came my way - and that was A LOT. I figured that once my mom leaves me in 12 days I'll be back to eating PB&J, ramen and hard-boiled eggs on my budget so I mind as well make the most of it while I can. And let's be honest, I've never been one to turn down free food. Ever.

Aside from taking off late, that was the most pleasant flying experience to date. Once we touched down in Sydney, though, it was back to reality. A splash of cold water to the face, if you will. Due to our plane leaving LAX so late, we missed our third connection and were automatically put on a later flight. Highlights from flight #3 - another meal and I got to watch The Hobbit: An Unexpected Journey (for the fourth time...)

After copious amounts of speed walking through the airport, being redirected to go stand in THAT line rather than THIS line, and failed negotiation attempts we completely missed our final flight from Auckland to Taupo. SO close, yet so, so far.

After weighing our options, we decided on renting a car and making the three and a half hour drive from Auckland to Taupo. Three sold-out rental car stations later (of course, right?), we finally found one that still had cars to rent. Thank you sweet baby Jesus. We only had one near-death experience during the whole drive (reminder: those crazy Kiwis drive on the left side of the road), so we'll mark that leg of the journey as a W. Needless to say, that night was one of the best nights of sleep of my young life.

I know y'all have some crazy travel stories - throw 'em at me. I'd love to hear.

Stay tuned for more dysfunctional adventure stories from the travels of Jenna and Jane. Sleep tight, you guys.

and i'm off

In my experience, the decision to leave never gets any easier - no matter how many times I choose it. It actually gets harder.

Even after I said my initial "fuck yes" and declared my decision to the universe, I was uncertain. I hadn't quite convinced myself that it was the right decision at this time in my life, that it was what I really wanted or needed. I went back and forth for quite some time – I still have my moments.

This part was extremely hard for me to write and share on-the-line, so bare with me.

There were many occasions where I almost nipped it in the bud and decided to stay in Minnesota forever - or at least for the time being. Like the many times my mom told me she wished I would stay and I so badly wanted to break down and say yes. And let’s not forget about when my nephew was born; every time I held him in my arms I silently swore I’d never leave. Or when I was sitting across the table, chatting with my dad about our days and our dreams. Definitely when I finally met someone I could see myself spending a whole lot of time with, and who thinks my snoring is cute – I mean c’mon. Oh, my heart. But off to New Zealand I go, because I’ll be honest, there was never really a chance I would stay home. I couldn’t, this is the only path in front of me. I’m meant for it. I just have to learn to trust the timing of my life – which like usual, is so, so much easier said than done. Trust, Jenna. Trust.

For those of you who don’t already know, I don’t really have a plan. I have an idea, but there’s nothing set in stone. No job lined up, no home base, and I don't really know a soul. For all of you Type A (TA) folks, yeah. You heard me. And I know, right? No plan?! My god. A TA myself, I’m driving myself nuts, but I’m currently working on loosening the reins a bit, because why not? I want to explore for a few months, and then I’ll try to settle down in Wellington and find a job teaching yoga. That’s the dream, anyways. I have a feeling that once I get into the swing of the Kiwi way of life some pretty rad opportunities will start to pop up left and right. My new motto for the next few months goes a little something like, ‘think less, feel more.’ Mmmm, I love the sound of that - just reading it on the page gets me all excited.

A lot of people have asked me if I'll be blogging throughout this big, bad extravaganza. My response: you KNOW it. I'll be documenting the good, the bad, the hilarious and everything in between - and if you followed my blog while I studied abroad, you can be sure to expect a whole lot of the same. I always make it out the other side, but there are always plenty of detours, road blocks, wrong turns and speed bumps along the way that are great for entertainment purposes.

So, stay tuned. I'll have lots to share with you in the next few days, weeks, and months. A little shameless self promotion while I'm at it: I make a GREAT travel companion. So if you're feeling spontaneous, adventurous and little bit carazy I think you should hop on over across the pond and explore with me. Just saying...

Ok. Enough for now. Next time you here from me I'll be in Kiwi territory. Wuuuuuut. Over and out, y'all. Sleep tight.

gypsy status

Welp, I guess it's official. Today is my first day being funemployed/a stay at home gypsy.

I've always dreamed of being a stay at home gypsy of sorts, but now that the time has come I've found myself going through the five stages of grief:

• Denial: What should I wear to work tomorrow? Black yoga pants, black yoga pants, or...black yoga pants? I think I'll go with black.
• Anger: What the hell are you doing with your life woman? You're not gypsy material. Get your shit together and go beg for your job back.
• Bargaining: If I go travel for a few months and get this out of my system, I'm willing to work every single day for the rest of my entire life (or until I meet my sugar daddy... kidding...)
• Depression: Sleep. Eat. Nap. Netflix. Eat. Sleep. Repeat.
• Acceptance: I'm young, wild, and free god damnit. YOLO.

[I apologize for all of the swearing, but that's exactly what my inner monologue sounds like so I just wouldn't feel right censoring it.]

And then I'm right back to denial. I'm sure I'll be going through these stages for awhile, but daaang it feels good once I've reached the acceptance stage. When I'm in that space, I know I've made the right decision; everything has brought me to this exact moment.

T-minus 11 days until I'm off to the other side of the world, you guys. I can barely believe it. First stop: Great Lake Taupo. We'll be spending a few days exploring the area - Hobbiton being our main priority (duh, I'm a LOTR fan!) - and then it's time for yoga, yoga, and yes, more yoga at Wanderlust yoga and musical festival. Swoon. I'm ready for you, New Zealand. Get ready.

In the mean time, I'll be attempting to condense four suitcases worth of belongings into a single backpack (sigh), running errands like it's my job (because I guess it kind of is now) and attempting to eat at all of my favorite restaurants - ALL of them.

Stay wild, y'all.

denver day 1

It's funny to think that I lived in Aspen for an entire year and once I moved back to Minneapolis, I finally managed to make it to Denver. Let me tell you - it did not disappoint.

Within an hour of stepping off the plane, my partner in crime and I were driving around and upon her suggestion, decided on getting tattoos. It was a rainy day and we were (apparently) feeling spontaneous. In one moment we had made our decision and in the next I was sitting in the chair, getting prepped. Tattoos are only for life, right? We went to Old Larimer Street Tattoo, a little shop in (what I believe) is just east of the heart of downtown Denver. If you're ever feeling spontaneous - and you happen to be in Denver - check it out. I'm no tattoo expert and I didn't get anything crazy complicated, but it's got a special vibe and what seems like a cool group of guys working there.

After a couple glasses of wine and some stand up comedy routines on Netflix, we decided to pry ourselves off the couch and try our chances of getting into a sold out Matt Nathanson concert. Allison, a die-hard fan, convinced me to continue the spontaneity and give it a go. I was tired from traveling and in a slight food coma after beer and burgers, but as I almost always do when I'm initially reluctant, I ended up having a blast. God, Matt Nathanson is a babealicious babe. He could have just stood (literally, just stood) up there for two hours instead of playing music and you would have heard zero complaints from me. He's quite the comedian too. He has got some great albums but there's nothing quite like the real deal - it was a great reminder that I need to get more into the live music scene. The show was at the Larimer Lounge, a pretty divey venue, but it was small so it made for an intimate couple of hours.

I didn't have time to explore the area around the Larimer Lounge, but it's definitely on the list for my next visit to Denver. There are some pretty phenomenal graffiti murals in that area - it seems to be a pretty artsy, funky area of town.