Traveling alone

I. Love. It. As my mom said, I probably like it too much. It’s just my vacation from my vacation from my vacation…

It’s been I think 3 days since the Brits went back to England and I’ve been fully on my own. I don’t even have a concept of time anymore, it’s luxurious. I don’t know how people traveled before the Orbitz app just told them where to go after they booked it all.
The hotel I had been staying at the past 2 nights jacked up prices for the World Cup game today. It’s absolutely killing me I’m not there, but anyway… It over tripled the price I’d been paying. (The hotel is in walking distance from the stadium… But still, c’mon.) So I’d booked one night at what appeared to be a nice hotel right outside of Salvador a little over halfway to the airport. It also happened to be the cheapest hotel in Salvador for the night. This was the lovely surprise I got when I went out back to sit down and write this:

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I only stopped in quick to put my things in my room. Again: two beds. I imagine seeing this when traveling alone might make one slightly nostalgic. Nope. This means one thing to me: MEGABED. I insist on pushing both beds together and laying diagonal across them both for maximum usage. Also, when you can’t sleep it works much better as a trampoline to pummel in your underwear at 4am.

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I find that my own fears and shyness that hold me back from exploring alone are still lower than the average person I’ve traveled with when they had company. I feel so much more free, no longer held back by the horrible boring and basic personality constraints of the people that constantly seem to surround me. My only complaint continues to be that I’m a woman and quite frankly it’s the only time I wish I wasn’t. The constant threats for the female race in comparison to the male is just not fair. Why can’t I have Liam Neeson in my family for if I’m ever taken?

I’m not sure why but men continue to ask for pictures with me, like foreigners in Brazil. Get some with Brazilian girls, not American in Brazil. It’s not even like I’m draped in USA gear or something memorable to want a cool pictures with. Yesterday waiting for a taxi in the lobby I wore no make up, an oversized marvel action heroes tank top, and sneakers. I still managed to see a guy trying to take a mirror pic with me in it. He eventually gave up and just asked to get one with me. Ugh. I will never understand such motivation.

I realize being alone will get old, as does having company. But right now, I’m more than satisfied sleeping, playing duolingo to get me back in the Spanish mindset, and reading Game of Thrones. Oh and totally swimming in that luxurious pool(s) of course.

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