Guess what, guys. I’m going to fucking Iceland!!!
“Fancy a slinky 7-8 day press trip in Iceland for 8 days? Hanging out with us guys, dog sledding, ice climbing, Viking shit etc. etc.”
There was only one answer: FUCK YES, VIKING SHIT!
So on May 1st, I head to Iceland, and, to be honest, I’m not exactly sure when I’m coming back yet. You see, The Brits (that’s what we call Lisa and Alex) have invited me to come back to England with them for a week. Of course I said yes. Now it’s my turn to culture clash my way into their world, amidst family members and friends I feel like I already know through their stories.
Then I thought, hmmmm…
For some reason I DON’T WANT TO GO HOME YET. Because, without Aaron at home, there doesn’t feel like I have any reason to return. (Yes yes, doggies, doggies, I love them so, but they’ll be spending time with Aaron while I’m gone, and they don’t care if I’m gone for another week after I’ve already been gone for two. In fact, at that point I’m pretty sure they’ve already given me up for dead and moved on.) Plus I like the idea of getting out of my comfort zone, and doing some of that heavy-thinking, perspective-gaining, personal-growth-ing that travel always seems to induce.
So I hit up my mom and asked her to meet me in FUCKING PARIS, so we can take that “girls trip” we’ve always talked about doing together.
So there ya go. “One way ticket to NICELAND, please!” I’ll come back when I’m good and ready.
In the meantime, I’ll take any travel tips, advice on what to bring, and what to do for my cellphone plan while I’m traveling!