Roll on Colombia: Costa Rica to Oregon

I’ve become quite good at packing, unpacking, and navigating long-term travel. I enjoy change and will be happy to keep going if I can. But living this way has its drawbacks and things I miss greatly.

It takes time to really know and understand a person. I miss being around people who love me and whom I love. When consistently meeting new people, you’re stuck in endless small talk. I hate small talk.

I also miss privacy. You’d think I have plenty of alone time traveling solo. But my life is spent between Airbnb room rentals, working on ships, and staying with family or friends. That’s a lot of interaction for an introvert. I miss being able to close the door and retreat into my own world where things are organized in a manner harmonious to me, and I can find my own routine and rhythm in silence.

Costa Rica

After working a number of summer contracts aboard ships in Alaska, I had the month of September free before another contract in October working on the Colombia River in Oregon. So I booked a flight to Costa Rica with the intention of resting as well as checking out the country as a possible location to live long term.

It was rainy season in the central valley and Pacific coast of Costa Rica, so I headed to the Caribbean (where I knew it’d be dryer) and rented a tiny home in the sleepy jungle town of Cahuita. I cooked for myself, read, meditated, took walks through the national park along the shore, and spent hours in a hammock watching monkeys and butterflies.

I’ve spent over a year in Central America (all combined), mainly in Guatemala studying backstrap weaving.

And after a couple of scary experiences in Guatemala and Nicaragua, I was nervous to return to Central America. But Costa Rica doesn’t have the same kind of edginess.”Tico’s” have a calm and sensible demeanor, which is easy for me to read. Before long, I’d fallen in love with the place and felt like I never wanted to leave!

The month of September flew by with one lazy day rolling into the next. I’d be working on a ship for the month of October. After that, I had no plans. There’s no time (nor wifi) for booking travel plans onboard the ship, so I needed to make travel arrangements now, or else I’d have nowhere to go after disembarking the ship.

Making Decisions

Deciding where to go next is my least favorite part of this mobile lifestyle. I move quickly once the decision is made, but the ‘forks in the road’ slow me down. I want someone to discuss ideas with (or tell me what to do …haha).

I’m not a cerebral person. I process information energetically by following lines of energy and watching how they feel and play out. Making decisions, for me, is like walking through a dark tunnel. I search for a glimmer of light to provide direction. When I sense a spark of light, I walk toward it. When all I see is dark, I stand still, wait, and feel. Usually, the feeling leads to the light, and then the direction. It’s time-consuming but highly accurate.

Onward

There are many places I’d still like to explore before getting off this travel train. I may never be in this position again: Fully mobile, no belongings, no car, no big commitments to anyone.

I decided not to return to Costa Rica in November, but to keep going and see more. Swinging in a jungle hammock in Central America, I applied for an online tourist visa to Australia.

Australia never drew my interest because I thought it too similar to my own culture, but again, now that I’m searching for a new home, it shows up on my radar with its pristine nature, low population, and egalitarian society.

It’s not a budget destination however, and that scares me. I’d have to find a way to stretch my funds and avoid draining my humble savings. For years I scrolled through the opportunities on a website called Help Exchange. If you’ve heard of WWOOFing, it’s the same premise: hours of work in exchange for accommodation and meals. Whereas WWOOFing offers positions on organic farms and agriculture, ‘Help Exchange’ (and Work Away) include farming opportunities as well as childcare, secretarial, dog walking, house painting …just about anything the host needs help with.

Some hosts do attempt to take advantage of free labor, but the majority enjoy the cultural exchange while gaining assistance with their specific needs. Help Exchange would make Australia a possibility for me.

Oregon

At the end of September, I flew back to my sisters in California to unpack the sundresses and reload the rain gear. I arrived in Santa Cruz at 9 pm and headed straight to the beach for a run along the shore. It felt so good to move my legs after being stuck in airports and on planes.

I had a moment of pause, realizing that I wouldn’t feel safe running alone in Costa Rica this time of night.

While in California, I spent an afternoon scrolling through the Queensland and New South Wales sections of the Help Exchange website, adding to my favorites list and sending emails to hosts. Voila, I have a bunch of places to stay in Australia!

I purchased a multi-city flight using credit card reward points for a 2.5-month visit, flying into Cairns and out of Brisbane.

Australia is a huge country and I’d love to see the whole thing, but to offer ample time at each help exchange I can only visit a few areas. Queensland and the north of New South Wales have the year-round warmth and humidity I thrive in, so that’s where I’m going.

On October 1st I flew to Portland, Oregon. By sunset, I was cruising the Willamette river aboard the National Geographic Sea Lion under the swelling moon.

I’m working four 6-day voyages up and down the Colombia River Gorge following the route of the Lewis and Clark expedition. It’s a very different cruise experience than I’ve worked in Alaska, the Caribbean or Mediterranean. The majority of our guests are seniors. They’re very sweet, but the itinerary is sedentary. There’s a fair amount of motor coach transport to museums, wineries, and historical sites. Not as much hiking. I need movement to thrive, so I’ve been struggling.

This is a historical river voyage passing 8 dams and locks. Many of the locks are taller than any in the Panama Canal.

We have a historian, naturalist, geologist, photo instructor, videographer, and me, the “Wellness Specialist.”

It was getting pretty darn cold toward the end of October and morning yoga class dwindled to nothing in the dark at 7 a.m. on an icy deck, so I moved class indoors to the lounge, which was a hit. There wasn’t enough room for yoga among the tables and chairs (which are bolted down), so I taught simple stretches, joint release exercises and chair yoga, which was perfect for the abilities of our guests.

Heading back on the last voyage to Portland,  I started to feel the enormity of my journey ahead to the land of OZ.

Roll on, Columbia, roll on
Roll on, Columbia, roll on
Your power is turning our darkness to dawn
So roll on, Columbia, roll on