In Part 1 of this post, I shared my picks for geographical heights, and even some descents, from my explorations of Split.

For Part 2, I thought I would share some emotional highs and lows from the experience of living in Split, Croatia for a month, which was also the first month of a full year of travel.

I have written about many highs already – islands, sailboats, the shipyard, Canadian Thanksgiving….  But here are a few more:

Picking olives:  If I describe the experience as an 8 hour day of volunteer manual labour, literally yanking olives off trees, it may not sound like a high point.  But it was one of the most fulfilling days of the month.  When one of our tour guides mentioned that he needed to find time to harvest his olives before the bad weather came, it suddenly became a ‘cultural opportunity’.  The repetition of hand-picking fruit had a meditative quality to it.  It also had a community feeling, as we worked in the sunshine along side his family members and friends (who were far more efficient than we were) toward a common goal – to pick as much as we could before sundown.  Apparently we gathered over 200kg of olives!  But then came the urgency to make our appointment at the olive mill.  We were about to see oil made with some olives that were less than an hour off the tree!  It was a fully mechanical process (versus chemical), supervised by an 80 year old farmer*, with every expectation of achieving ‘extra virgin’ quality.  To walk away with even a small bottle of the end product was a bonus.  I sincerely appreciated that I had the flexibility in my schedule to participate, that I was healthy and able to do the work, that my energy blended with that of the others lifting us all to higher productivity, and that I was even in Split during this key harvest season.  It was pretty special.

Dancing the Macarena:  The Remote Year city team continually looks for community partners who are open to receiving recurring volunteer support.  In Split, one of those partners is an autism center.  For our two hour window of volunteer service, we came with materials like markers and paper, beads and string, hair accessories, nail polish, and a nerf football.  I had offered to do some line dancing, which couldn’t start until an in-house play was performed. I felt awkward in the interim.  I admired how others so naturally (seemingly) connected with people – started playing, started crafting, started even just braiding hair – before any announcements even.  (Why did I think there would be an announcement, or that I would even understand it?)  A game broke out with a basketball, and the markers started being used for ‘tattoos’ on forearms.  But then the music started.  And it was immediately clear that dancing was a favourite activity – something we had in common.  A big group gathered and we (kind of) did three line dances, with the Macarena clearly being the most popular.  For what usually feels like a long song, on that day it ended too quickly.  But then I was introduced to Croatian rap, and The Twist adapted into Croatian, and even the requests for Despacito didn’t make me cringe.  Some of my new friends were up for impromptu dance battles and hip bumps, and some simply wanted to hold my hand and sway.  Everyone was happy to high five after each song.  The simple fact that strangers were interested in spending time with them brought the residents joy, which was infectious.  This was a powerful reminder in an overly scheduled and organized world that it is the connection that matters.  The commitment to spend time together is more important than over-planning what should occur during that time, or when that time starts and stops.  I left when the last person was finally lured inside for lunch, smiling at his fresh tattoo of the word “HAPPY.”

Receiving real mail: I am exploring a lifestyle coined “digital nomad” and “remote worker” which is exposing me to a wide variety of apps, online services, and electronics.  I remember a time in the 1990s when my first email was internal to the company’s mainframe computer.  Now all of my communications heavily rely on access to WiFi or a cellular data plan.  While I am proud of the progress I’m making leveraging tech to support a traveling lifestyle, I also admit that I had a huge smile on my face when I received actual mail.  Snail mail.  A real envelope with my name and address** and a stamp.  What I also didn’t expect was how its mere existence brightened the day for others around me too.  It was a fun reminder of how we’ve completely switched from being excited about AOL’s “You’ve Got Mail”, to now hearing the office manager say, “You’ve got mail!” 

Winning second prize in BINGO:  The city team created a fantastic game as a way to get us engaged with Split. Nothing like tapping into competitive spirit to get the energy up.  You may think that second prize involved coming up a little short.  But what if I tell you that even though first prize was a massage, the second prize was a bottle of wine and a box of chocolates?  Right? Second prize rocks!  And here are a few of the things we had to find, do, and get photographic evidence of alongside our assigned partner:  jump on a trampoline, eat an ‘ice cube’ (found in a candy store…), get to the roof of the Vestibulum, hug a blue tree, and eat some fritule. SO. MUCH. FUN.

Starting the blog:  Over the last few years, the answer in my gut to the question, “What would you do if you knew you couldn’t fail” has been – put my thoughts/voice online.  I was worried – no, I was afraid – that with my words being accessible forevermore, that they could be read out of order and misconstrued, held against me long after my opinion changed, or oddly worse, simply dismissed.  Presenting at conferences – I enjoyed.  Writing curated articles – I did, but rarely.  Putting my voice just “out there” – I was blocked.  As soon as I decided to join Remote Year, it became very apparent that I needed a way to let everyone share in the experience.  And ‘everyone’ extends beyond friends and family, to basically anyone who hears ‘travel the world for a year’, hence includes doctors, accountants, property managers, and yoga instructors.  Other options considered were a vlog/YouTube channel or a podcast, but the technical learning curve for those was more daunting.  One of my StrengthFinder themes is Intellection, which suggests that I am “attracted to the printed word.”  I figured I wouldn’t fight with Gallup – so blog it is.  I was then reminded that anything you want to learn can be found on the internet, and a quick search got me to an easy, free, step-by-step beginner’s guide to create a blog.  I’m proud of having figured out how to launch a blog that is legible, and I’m proud of having sought help from fellow travelers with actual expertise which generated some incremental improvements.  Overwhelmingly though, I’ve realized how much I enjoy writing, and apparently writing about a wide range of things!  And I’m happy, and even grateful, to be able to share my words now.

That is five highs.  How about some lows?  

I challenged myself with this post to focus on some lows because life is never all highs.  The lows that really hurt this month aren’t my stories to tell.  Some are at a distance and some are brand new connections here, but I’m trying to find ways to be available and to carry a little bit for them.  The lows that do come to mind seem more like nuisances, but here they are:

Wearing the boot:  Looking at an x-ray two weeks before leaving the country, and accepting that my foot was broken, was a test of my ability to ‘roll with it.’  I knew that travelers break bones, and keep going.  I just had a head start.  I never considered delaying the trip.  I also didn’t slow down.  With the boot on, I packed up the house, surprised Craigslist buyers, handled errands, and went to Goodwill.  Close to departure day, I did try an afternoon without it, when I opened my first safe deposit box (a real grown-up move), but assessed that the foot wasn’t ready.  The boot was going to fly.  Weird things about wearing a boot?  My right shoes were getting dirty while the left shoes stayed clean.  My hip flexors felt they were doing double duty and eventually started to complain.  Hiking outings were out but adapting a bicycle outing to a quad was actually a real plus!  I only got in the sea once (for BINGO) as the pebbled beach was pretty unstable even for two good feet.  I stayed in the apartment perhaps more than I would have otherwise (avoiding putting the boot on) which reduced informal exchanges with my fellow travelers.  But the boot was helping me heal.  It was helping me participate.  It was part of my initial identity (were people going to recognize me without it, like Clark Kent’s glasses?)  With my latest round of tests without the boot, I felt a lot stronger, so the boot stayed in Split.  I have done three days of yoga, and though that side is weak, it’s performing.  Hopefully that ‘low’ is behind me now.

Making tea:  This is definitely closer to a nuisance than a crisis.  On a regular morning, my routine is to make tea and do some journaling and then do some form of exercise.  With the broken foot, the exercise was pretty limited, putting the emphasis on the tea and journaling.  I know that one tea bag can create more than one mug of amazing goodness.  As a last minute packing decision, my teapot did not go in the suitcase.  I figured I could live without it, and its weight and awkward shape in the suitcase.  Maybe the apartments would magically have one (contrary to all of my AirBnB experience?)  Maybe I overestimated how much I liked using one?  Well, for a month, I poured water into two mugs, and steeped one cup and then the other, and while they were both still hot, I added some honey (acacia honey from the market for the win!)  The temperature of the second cup when I got to drinking it varied widely as we didn’t have a microwave.  Was I to give in to only making one cup at a time, using a new bag every time?  Have I identified a core comfort item for me?  I may yet reduce my tea consumption, especially if/when we go to some really hot countries ahead.  But the daily ‘struggle’ with tea in Split, lead to my buying a glass teapot on my first day in Lisbon.  Perhaps that ‘low’ is behind me now too.

That’s the recap for Split, Croatia, and the initial month of traveling.  It was an amazing blend of redefining daily life, while thriving on new adventures and being open to, and growing through, spontaneous opportunities.  Hvala!

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* I asked if the 80 year old, with the olive mill literally in his barn ‘around back’, was training an apprentice so that the operation can continue after he retires.  I was told, “He is already retired!” But then after some chuckles of amusement and admiration, I gathered that it was more likely that the equipment would eventually be sold to someone else interested in making a little money during a short annual harvest season.  And apparently there is no shortage of local expertise in making the highest quality olive oil!

** It is now occurring to me to put my upcoming mailing address on the About Me page to allow for potential future surprises.