| Weekly Family Supplement | Highlights from My Travels Around Europe, Working Holiday in Australia, and Adventures Around the World

《These are the story posts shared weekly on theCreya！可以呀 fan page, collected here in this blog post as part of the series》

Since every blog post of mine takes so long to be delivered by C-section, I realized that by the time I finished writing about my Europe trip, spring might have come and gone all over again. It suddenly dawned on me that this was not a sustainable approach. (A little late for that realization, perhaps?)

So I’ve decided! Every week, I’ll use one photo to tell a little story from my travels.You might not see famous attractions, and the photos may not be especially beautiful or spectacular, but each one holds an unforgettable memory or a small realization for me.The stories won’t follow a chronological order, and they won’t be limited to Europe—they may take us to Australia or anywhere else I’ve visited.

Maybe, once they accumulate, these stories will turn out to be more substantial than my blog posts. Lately, especially during yoga, images from my travels have been inexplicably flashing through my mind. (Could this be the legendary life-flashing-before-your-eyes montage?!) They keep bringing back those ancient memories, so surely the universe is trying to tell me something… Amen.

In plain language, this is basically a sneak preview! Time to boost the future ratings of my Europe-trip series. (Though the blog posts may simply remain stuck in labor forever.) If you’d like to listen, please pull up a stool and make yourself comfortable.

The stories collected here are from previous weeks.To see the newest posts the moment they appear, head over to theCreya！可以呀 fan pageand turn on notifications. You’ll become a VIP and never miss a post!

※ The following posts are arranged by publication date, from oldest to newest ※

【The Backpacker at Barcelona Station, Spain】(Posted on August 28, 2014, on thefan page))

Right away, you’re greeted by an utterly ordinary photo, shot on an iPhonewith all the digital noise you could ever want. By then, I had left Avignon in southern France and taken an overnightbus to my next stop, Barcelona—a city notorious among backpackersfor its crime. And then… I arrived shortly after 4 a.m.

I regretted it almost as soon as I got off. Why had I tried to save a little money by arriving at this hour? Thetrains weren’t running yet, while several apparently drunk people staggered around the busterminal.

So I looked around for somewhere that seemed relatively safe, where I could take shelter untilthe city woke up. Then I spotted two backpackers sitting in one section who seemed to be inthe same predicament as me. After I quietly sat down, one of them asked, “Are you traveling…alone?” (In English, of course—I’m thoughtfully translating for you.) Westarted talking about our travel plans. He was a guy from the Spanish countryside.He had only returned to deal with some things at school, but he also told me about his previous trip to Germany,the places he wanted to visit next, and how sorry he was about the worsening public safety in the capital.

Finally, he politely asked whether I wanted to rest. He wanted to sleep for a while, so wecould take turns watching our belongings. I was young and supposedly full of stamina back then (?! Where did that confidence come from?) and didn’t needa nap, so I took this photo.

The warmth of this chance encounter and mutual understanding between backpackers replaced my earlier fear and anxiety,helping me make it safely through the predawn hours and giving my first corner of the city a sense of warmth.

P.S. On the left is the adorable suitcase that accompanied me through 85 days of battle. Does it give the photoa little foreground-and-background depth? 🙂

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【My European Mum—My Spanish Mum】(Posted on September 4, 2014, on thefan page))

After sharing last week’s heartwarming story about waiting for dawn with a backpacker at Barcelona station,I immediately remembered another beautiful story, made beautiful by a person, that had happened just before itand kept me warm all night.

That evening, as I prepared to leave Avignon in southern France, I had set out a little late, so I raceddown the cobblestone streets with my suitcase. (Apparently, I was already developing my credentials as a running-legs girl.)I finally reached the long-distance bus station and frantically searched for my bus or its queue.I randomly stopped the beautiful young woman at the end of one line. (Not the woman in thephoto—don’t get ahead of yourself.) Luckily, she spoke fluent English and toldme the bus was running late.

It turned out she was a Spanish woman working in France, and the woman beside her was her mother, who had come from Spainto visit. After seeing her mum onto the bus, she would remain in France for work. When the bus arrivedand I had loaded my luggage and boarded, I saw the Spanish mum enthusiasticallywaving me over to sit beside her. Throughout the journey, she kept checking whether I wanted a snackor a tissue. She couldn’t speak a word of English, so apart from gestures, we occasionallycommunicated with “eat?” “sleep?” and even bits of Spanish. Did we understand each other? I think we were communicatingwith our hearts.

Halfway through the journey, the bus suddenly stopped somewhere, and I had absolutely no idea what was happening. TheSpanish mum gestured to me and led me off the bus into a service station. It turned out we were taking a half-hourbreak before departing again. Without her guidance, I truly would have been at a lossduring the first international transfer of this trip. Back on the bus, she asked whether I wanted to sleep, thenpatted her shoulder and invited me to rest my head on it. Tears nearly burst from my eyes.She treated me just as a mother would treat her own daughter. Throughout the entire journey, I received an abundance ofwarmth and love.

Before getting off, I took an iPhone selfie with this lovely Spanish mum.I wanted to preserve this most beautiful memory. The image quality is dreadful, but the more I look at it,the more I love it.

—Feeling loved 🙂

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【Standing at a Fairytale Crossroads in Rothenburg】(Posted on September 10, 2014, on thefan page))
This week’s story is a scene that has remained in my mind.

Starting at Neuschwanstein Castle, the inspiration for Disney’s castle, I set off along Germany’s Romantic Road and stepped into a fairytale.

In Rothenburg ob der Tauber, every building looks as though it has walked out of a medieval painting: sloping attic roofs, colorful walls, and vivid red flowers. If a woman in a huge billowing gown appeared just then, no one would have found it strange.

In reality, the place where I lingered longest in this little town was a shop selling wooden cavalry dolls that looked like nutcrackers. Yet the image that stayed in my mind was this crossroads. Facing the clock tower, I was reminded that I had to continue to my next stop, but I wanted to turn around, run back, and stubbornly refuse to leave—as though I could avoid leaving the fairytales of childhood for the reality of adulthood.

Judging from the country alone, it is hard to reconcile the Germans’ reserved seriousness (compared with people in other Western countries) with such an abundance of romantic townscapes.

Never judge a person by appearances—or Germany by its serious exterior.
#CantStopGrinning

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【Sunbathing on the Grass inMunich】(Posted on September 17, 2014, on thefan page))

Guess where this is?

Brisbane, Australia, has an urban beach where busy residents can enjoy sunshine, sand, and water in a city-center park.

To my surprise, in Munich’s English Garden, Germany, there wasn’t even a beach. While I was still basking in the forest air, bikini-clad girls and boys in board shorts suddenly appeared among all that greenery, lying across the grass. It was deeply confusing: should I expect picnic blankets and wicker baskets, or beaches and babes? (The answer was a remix! Two wishes granted at once.)

On the subway to the park, a German office worker who was learning Chinese struck up a conversation with me and said I absolutely had to see this amusing sight. He had even seen people bring surfboards here. Germany is a large country, and most of it lies far from the sea. Its only coastline is in the north…and it is cold throughout much of the year. So in summer, Germans sunbathe like this. (Possibly while showing off their new bikinis.)

At moments like this, Taiwan really does feel blessed to be surrounded by sea!

(Find the uncensored highlight yourself.)

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【A Weirdo Appears Out of Nowhere】】(Posted on September 24, 2014, on thefan page))

Of course, where there are good people, there are also bad ones—and they always appear where you least expect them,just as you’ll inevitably find a wormy one while eating lychees. (Actually, now I’m craving lychee-flavored Naimuji ice cream~)）。

By then, I was gradually leaving behind such notoriously unsafe countries as France and Spain, headingnorth~. As I successfully crossed one country after another off my list, my guard gradually dropped.And that was when this story unfolded, aboard a train to Luxembourg. Out of the corner of my eye, I noticed amiddle-aged man walk past my seat after boarding, but I paid little attention.A few minutes later, he came back and plopped himself into the empty seat opposite me.。

He was a Luxembourger who did business around Europe. (I only learned that after we started talking,of course, though I wish I knew telepathy.) This was hardly my first time chatting with fellow passengerson public transport, and my previous experiences had always been heartwarming. So when thisman began chatting with me, I happily responded when appropriate. But then the man, whoselarge gold ring kept flashing as he gesticulated, increasingly began delivering a one-man monologue, constantly going,“YOU KNOW…” blah blah blah~ “YOU KNOW…” blah blah blah, spouting arguments with no discernible logic. I suffer from an involuntary eye-rolling response to “YOU KNOW,” and by then all that blah-blah-blah had me craving McDonald’s to satisfymy hunger, so my replies grew increasingly half-hearted. Naturally, the sixth sense of this mildly psychic womanbegan telling me that this conversation was seriously off-key.

As we drew closer to Luxembourg, he began asking whether I had friendsthere and where I was staying. “YHA (Youth Hostelling International)” was the only information Igave him. Good—he clearly had no idea where it was. Then hestarted repeating like a broken record: “I can visit you where you’re staying tomorrow,” “Youcan stay at my house (?!)” and “I can take you to where you’restaying now.” (But, Uncle—you don’t even know where the YHA is.) Naturally, Iimmediately summoned a chorus of “NO, NO~ NO, NO~.” The moment the train arrived, I grabbedmy luggage and shot out. Then I turned around and nearly jumped out of my skin—the man was trailingbehind me like a ghost, saying, “I’ll come with you.” Bloody hell~ I hurried in the direction GOOGLEshowed me. (Human potential truly is limitless: I normally give people the wrong directions even nearmy own home, yet at that moment it was as though I had a built-in GPS above my head.) I unleashed the lightning-fast strideI had perfected on the streets of Taipei. A few minutes later, the man ran out of stamina and fell farther and farther behind,before finally accepting defeat and disappearing somewhere down the road…

The next day, I still stepped timidly out of the YHA, terrified that he might actually be waiting to ambush me. It wasterrifying~ terrifying to the absolute extreme~ Fortunately, nothing else happened.

Venture out boldly, but stay careful in everything.#TheseEuropeTripLegsAreTrained

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【Provence in Southern France Is Great for Sleeping】】(Posted on October 2, 2014, on thefan page))

Let’s begin with a standard tourist photo. Apart from the fact that I’m not in focus,please also set aside any questions about why this person is carrying so much stuff… The storyis that I nearly missed the chance to take this photo!

The backdrop is the famous Provence region of southern France. Naturally, according to mymeticulously calculated schedule, this was precisely when I had planned to see the lavender. SinceI was traveling alone, I joined a local Chinese-language tour conducted in Simplified Chinese.

The full-day itinerary was quite packed, taking us from a hilltop village and an abbey to a red-ochre town and then this,the second-to-last stop: a lavender factory. The vehicle swayed along the mountain roads,and before we even reached the factory, my eyelids became too heavy to resist. I fell asleep, and as Islept (I will absolutely never tell you that I drooled), my eyes suddenly flew open! The vehicle was parkedin complete silence by the road, and every single mainland Chinese tourist around me had vanished! (Luckily,the vehicle couldn’t move by itself. Yes, that joke is ancient.)

Thank goodness the door was still open. I flew out and discovered that we had reached the attraction.But seriously—not “one” of my fellow tourists had possessed enough conscience to wake me up and tell me to get off.(Or was I sleeping so deeply that I’ve unfairly blamed them?!)

Fortunately, although I had just missed the explanation of the lavender distillation process, I still shamelesslyasked a fellow tour member to take this photo. (That is completely missing the point, isn’t it?) (I hopethey didn’t laugh at the impressive stretchiness of my drool.)

#TurnsOutMainlandChineseTouristsRespectOtherPeoplesChoices_WhenThatChoiceIsSleep
#IWantToKnowWhyImSoGoodAtSleeping

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【The Honesty Hostel in England’s Lake District】】(Posted on October 9, 2014, on thefan page))

Toward the end of my Europe trip, I visited England’s Lake District—you know, the place with Peter Rabbit’s home and a whole bunch of lakes. (What a description, when it is actually a beloved British holiday destination.) In some Western countries, people’s trust in public safety goes far beyond anything imaginable in Taipei. My Couchsurfing host in Salzburg, Austria, for example, never even locked her door. I was honestly both frightened and delighted: “How wonderful—you never have to worry about forgetting your keys when you go out!”

Yet in more than 80 days in Europe, this was still my first time staying at an honesty hostel like this.

It was a backpacker hostel whose guests were almost all young travelers passing through. In most respects, it was no different from an ordinary hostel: bunk beds in rooms of four to six, bathrooms and showers, and even a small kitchen. Of course, it was cleaned every day too.

But it had one extraordinary feature…it had no reception desk and no staff! I contacted the owner and booked by traditional email rather than through a booking website, then received the code for the entrance keypad. Inside was a check-in register resembling a wedding guestbook, which told you your room and bed number, along with a few simple house rules.

The money? You dropped it into a bucket yourself! Everything ran on conscience and honesty. Everyone was thoroughly honest, too: the bedroom doors had no locks. If you truly didn’t trust other people, you could put your belongings in a locker and lock that. The toilets had locks, though. (I know what you were thinking.)

From beginning to end, you never saw the owner; everything was self-managed. By trusting everyone, the owner freed himself from the constraints and made his own life easier.

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【On Taking Photos with Pisa】】(Posted on October 16, 2014, on thefan page))

This is a place every tourist wants to visit and every local strongly advises against. The reason is simple: it’s boring.

Unlike Taipei 101, you can’t go shopping and haul home designer labels. There are two rows of vendor stalls nearby, but they all sell more or less the same souvenirs. Of course, you can climb to the viewing platform and look at the surrounding cathedral and cemetery, but the toppings on this particular Pisa are rather sparse.

But…
I’m a tourist, after all. No matter what people said, I still wanted to see this World Heritage Site with my own eyes, like a three-dimensional version lifted straight out of a history textbook (complete with IMAX surround sound). There was still an element of surprise: “Oh, Pisa isn’t actually that tall!”

Once they arrive, the only thing every tourist can—or wants to—do is take photos with the Leaning Tower of Pisa. But if you snap one or two photos and finish immediately, the one-hour journey from Florence hardly feels worthwhile. So I racked my brains for distinctive poses. Naturally, there had to be a pair of photos where we pushed the tower over.

But candid shots are actually even more amusing, especially when everyone is striking their own creative pose.

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【On Taking Photos with Pisa】】(Posted on October 23, 2014, on thefan page))

Especially when traveling alone, you inevitably want a photo of yourself with the famous landmark behind you once you reach a tourist attraction. This week’s family supplement is about that thrilling, suspenseful moment. Why thrilling, you ask…

First, when choosing someone to take your photo, you have to survey the surrounding crowd. In your heart, you yearn for someone who looks friendly and definitely won’t seize the opportunity to run off with your camera. Ideally, they’ll have a DSLR too →→ They must be a pro! Pick them, pick them!

Good. Once you’ve selected your target, you have to summon the courage to approach and ask whether they’ll do you the favor. Very exciting. That’s why hearing Chinese in a foreign country is always so delightful. (Surely that isn’t the real reason.) The most awkward possibility is that you approach just as they walk away—or someone with exactly the same idea beats you to them at that very moment.

But the most thrilling moment of all comes after the kind stranger has taken the photo and you get your camera back to inspect the results. Their choices are always utterly illogical. How illogical? About as illogical as naming this series the Weekly Family Supplement.

You may discover that you aren’t the subject because the background is in focus, that the entire image is blurry, or that only your head remains.

All right, then. In the photo below ↓ can you tell where this is?! Can you tell where this is?! “Hmm~ It’s a perfect portrait…taken at…uh…” Fine! It doesn’t matter. (Hey~ This is the world-famous Colosseum!)

I still refused to give up and searched for the next person destined to help me. Fortunately, he was Taiwanese, and the Colosseum appeared in full in the photo. Unfortunately, only my head appeared. (At least there weren’t two heads.) I think I’d better not share the remaining photos…

In short, this is the story of how I was never destined to get a proper photo with the Colosseum.
A story from before selfie sticks became popular.

But every time I think of the Colosseum, it still makes me laugh.

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【“When You Travel Alone, You’re Never Really Alone”—Dog Edition】】(Posted on October 30, 2014, on thefan page))

This week’s family supplement takes us to Australia. It was during a trip to Western Australia when I was in an absolutely awful mood. I was walking alone along the beach in the small town of Cervantes, letting the wind blow~ (I really want to go feel the breeze with you again), thinking it might help. But the farther I walked, the deeper I sank into my own thoughts and the worse I felt. ↑ With singing like that, would anyone believe I was in a bad mood? XD

Just as my tears were about to fall, a dark shadow suddenly appeared beside my feet from behind me. “W·T·F” (When abroad, one must speak English.) I’m not afraid of dogs, but when a huge creature suddenly comes crashing through as though uprooting mountains and trees—turns out, it’s a dog—the shock is still on the level of Jaws.

Then His Lordship casually walked to the other side without even glancing at me. At first, I assumed he was merely a passerby in my life. But then I noticed that whenever I stopped to take a photo, he wandered around nearby. When I continued walking, he accelerated at his own pace and charged ahead of me. His eyes said no, but his body honestly kept following my direction.

And so we walked together, sometimes one ahead and sometimes the other, keeping our distance yet never straying far apart. We walked from one end of the beach to the other, then all the way back again, spending more than an hour together. Near the backpackers’ hostel, I ran into my roommate on the beach. “Is this your dog?” I imagine every passerby we met must have wondered or assumed the same thing. “He’s a good friend I just met.”

His companionship let me temporarily leave my sadness behind, and it made this beach impossible to forget.

Finally, after I told him three times, “I’m going back now. You should hurry home too,” he quietly disappeared into the grass. I have no idea who he was or where he came from, but I miss him…

P.S. I know this photo looks slightly creepy, but forgive me—I couldn’t find another one to replace it. (It’s precious.)

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