Those of you who know me will know that I love to travel. For those of you who don't yet know me let me declare emphatically..
I LOVE TO TRAVEL!
I studied Modern European Languages at University and as part of the course I had to (oh, the obligation!) spend a year abroad. For me this year entailed 8 months in Valladolid in the north of Spain, a month in Lisbon, Portugal and 3 months in Antibes in the South of France. A truly awful year as you can imagine.. ;)
From that point on I was hooked, pure and simple, and would jump on a plane as often as time, money and other inconveniences, such as employment, would allow.
Leading up to the summer just past I knew I wanted to go somewhere far flung but where gosh darn it?? I don't know about you but sometimes I find myself paralyzed by choice: I'll stand in a supermarket in front of anti-bacterial kitchen sprays completely incapacitated, eyes darting wildly from bottle to bottle. I mean, which one should I choose? Which one will get my glittery kitchen surfaces not only the cleanest but the most bacteria resistant?? Does opting for Mr Muscles guarantee me a quality clean or should I be uncharacteristically sensible and frugal and purchase Tesco's own?? But then again, maybe I should go for the one with the red liquid, after all, I do like all items in my kitchen to colour co-ordinate..
Given my indecision when buying cleaning products you can only imagine my dilemma when faced with literally a world full of countries to choose from. Mercifully fate intervened and my agony was short lived. I was perusing my News Feed on Facebook one day, as you do, when I came across this very post:
And that was when I knew it..
I'M GOING TO COSTA FREAKIN' RICA BABY!!
After a few Facebook exchanges and telephone calls with Staci and the purchase of a plane ticket whose price to this very day causes me palpitations, the Ginger Warrior was on her way to Costa Rica for a month! Well, almost..
I AM TERRIFIED OF FLYING. There. I said it. I'm not ashamed of my fear; it's simply that writing I'm terrified of flying reminds me that I'm terrified of flying and an 8 hour flight to New York awaits me in 3 weeks. *low-level stomach churning*. But here's the dealio my Warrior friends, I DO NOT AND WILL NOT allow any fears that I may possess to blight and restrict my life. After all..
Yes, I would and I do.
So the day arrived and I hoisted Craigy Boy's massive 70 litre backpack onto my freckly frame. Did I mention that I was to be back-packing? I know, I know, I could hardly believe it myself. But you'd be amazed at how many pairs of shoes I was able to cram in, stilettos included! Here is a picture of Backpacking GW complete with spray tan and diamante wedge flip flops. It doesn't bode well, does it?
And here is a picture of Pilot GW. How did that one come about you ask? Well, I had spied the flight Crew as I anxiously sat in the Departure Lounge and thought it might be nice to have a little chat with the Captain and to become acquainted with the person holding my very life in his hands. So I walked on over to where the flight Crew were all sitting, introduced myself as Ceri, a very nervous flyer and asked if the Captain and I could spend a few moments together. And we did. He was a most charming and obliging man who attempted to allay my fears. He couldn't promise me a turbulence free flight but he did invite me into the cockpit and let me sit in his chair and wear his hat:
The 12 hour flight proved not to be completely turbulent free but nor was it as traumatic as anticipated. It never is, is it? And I was very, very well taken care of by Javier the first class flight attendant, the handsome fella at the very top of the page. Upon boarding the plane I noticed on his name tag that he spoke Spanish and I just couldn't help myself. And I'm glad that I didn't because Javier was so absolutely, positively thrilled I spoke his language that he took extra special care of me throughout the flight and brought me, a lowly cattle class passenger, an array of goodies and treats from the first class cabin.
A little bit of Columbian TLC, that's all a nervous flyer needs. And copious amounts of valium.