Solo Female Travel//

Driving 5000 Miles to Volunteer in Greece

I did it!

I drove all the way to Greece (?!) and started volunteering with the homeless refugee population in Thessaloniki. And when I tell people what I’m doing the first thing most people say is - ‘I’m so jealous’.

Sure, there is a sense of freedom that comes from tapping out of the conventional life, being on the road and totally in control of all the decisions. In reality though, it feels like a lot of pressure being totally responsible for everything. It can be exhausting.

Adulting is hard kid - so I wanted to write an honest review about all the feels I’ve felt over the past two months that I’ve experience whilst on the road.

Setting up to set off

Having spent a year in Iceland, volunteering at a night shelter for homeless women in Reykjavik, I had lots to process when I returned back to the UK. It had been a rollercoaster of a year. Before departing I had the bright idea to drive my camper van to Greece. I now had friends around the world which made the world feel more accessible, having just spent a year living in a house of international volunteers read more here. I could drive to Greece to find out what the ‘Refugee Crisis’ was really all about. I’d volunteered in Calais a few years ago and I thought getting closer to the border of Europe, to the source of conflict, I might better understand be able to understand what was going on.

I needed to get my van back on the road as Edie was left in a field for a year whilst I was away. Some friends were getting married in Italy which acted as motivation me to set off, breaking down the journey - Italy wasn’t quite as far away as Greece. There was a fog of discomfort, anticipation mixed with disassociation and a pinch of apprehension. Here goes.

Now I knew I didn’t have to do this and when the van repeatedly had problems in the short window period of two weeks that I had given myself back to prep. Worse case I could have just flown out there. However the wedding and setting out on this journey - it felt like a catalyst for something bigger. I saw it as the starting point to get me over to mainland Europe, giving myself up to the universe and surrendering to where ever it led me. I had no plan or arrangements for volunteering and had every faith that there would be plenty of volunteers needed. And I had no idea how long it was going to take me to get there. I wasn’t in a rush and just had until my savings ran out and van permitted.

The universe, to some God, for others it’s that voice in your head. For me, believing when I look at the night sky and see the moon and stars, or when I can feel the suns rays shine down on me - this for me is a power greater than myself that reminds me I am held and LOVE/SOURCE/UNIVERSE/God has my best interest at heart. You do you hun.

Giving myself two weeks to get the van ready (#edielt35) was a huge distraction from really catching up with friends and family or digesting the time I’d just had spent away from them. I stepped foot back in to my old life, some things had changed and some things had stayed the same but I had changed. Iceland was a turbulent year of personal growth, what with all that darkness, head shaving and life stuff. I felt guilty for not being home longer but I also felt I had to do this now. I saw the van as a project and I didn’t know whether I’d got this all wrong. Maybe I was supposed to stay home. Maybe that was doubt or anxiety creeping in. The thought of stepping back to a life I’d lived before with, leaving this road trip idea-seed as just a dream - that didn’t feel right!

The van passed its MOT. I booked a ferry for the next morning and made it to the wedding in Petroli, Italy, three days later.

Countdown to the wedding begins…

Setting off and saying goodbye to family that morning was tough. Here I go again, leaving you all behind and how grateful I am that you allow me to follow my wild dreams. Of course it is never easy saying goodbye and this time I had no time frame for how long I’d be away. I don’t know when I’ll be back. It was overwhelming. I had to keep reminding myself to break the trip down and that right now my only task is to get down to Dover for the ferry. Tick. To drop off donations for refugees to the warehouse in Calais . Tick. Continue driving on to Italy. Tick.

I’m driving along and getting this time to myself without any external influences, allowing my mind to wonder. Through France, its flat monotonous roads. Switzerland and its stunning scenery. Into Italy and its insanely busy highways. Now I was allowing myself to dream more wild dreams. Now I was metabolising and digesting the previous year and year ahead. Stay grounded. Keep focused. Get to the wedding.

I saw a sign for the sea, 20 minutes from the wedding venue! I felt euphoric, I’d made it. I parked up to go have a quick dip. We did it Edie, we made it, we drove to Italy, without a grown up. Wild. What an accomplishment, years before I was told by an ex, led to believe I couldn’t drive a van - because I was a girl. Look at me now. Boom.

The wedding was a fairytale essentially taking over an Italian village, tables and chairs laid out in the town square for dinner and speeches. There was a celebratory guest - one half of cotton eyed joe came with his fiddle. There was a weekend of celebrations of utter magic.

The Buddymoon

Post wedding the bride and groom and their friend Holly were road tripping back to the UK so I spent a few days with them on a ‘buddy-moon’. The night before we parted ways we sat out under the stars, parked up by a lake. We feasted on fresh Italian delights that Holly prepped whilst listening to music, and we felt all of the magic around us What was this apart from absolutely blissful? If nothing else, even if a don’t go any further, right now, this moment, right here and now - this is life, this is everything. So much warmth filled my heart from spending time in nature, with gentle music, connecting with others and making beautifully simple memories.

Riding Solo

I watched the gang drive off the following morning as I stayed by the same lake for a few days. Ok, I’m now just alone, in a van, without an actual plan. A taste of freedom. I remember before learning to drive, dreaming of how it would feel to get in a car and just drive. When I could drive I’d dream of missing the junction to work and instead just keep driving. Here I now was, I can go anywhere, do anything and yet all I want to do is stay still. Uh-oh. The days that followed would drag as I’d wait for day to become night, for time to pass by me. I survived another day. Good job.

Is this really what I want? Right now I feel miserable and lonely, and am asking myself how on earth did I end up here all alone in Italy? Here was the next test from the universe – relearn how to be alone. I really do believe that we have so much unlearning to do and all that we need is within each of us. How awesome it is that I get to have this time, this solitude, this space, this lake, this peace. I was full of bittersweet memories of the others that were fading and now I had nothing to distract me except the task at hand and no one to share it with. I can’t run away from me, we have ourselves for company for the rest of our lives. I’ve learnt now how nourishing this relationship can be. Let it be said that this time was a healing time. I faced myself head on and learnt to ask ‘what do you need?’, to help move through the day. I read, I slept, I wrote, I swam, I walked, I even bmx’d to the closest town. I began breaking my day down into smaller tasks like my first road trip to Calias. From getting up, making food to picking up a book, a pen, the bmx – it all took care of itself one step at a time. It was as if there was a gentle voice in my head guiding me, nuding me towards what I needed in that next moment to help regulate. When it was time the voice encouraged me to look at a map ‘you decide where you go next’.

At the height of the anxs I would tell myself I can always just drive home. I’d wince at the thought then the anxs would subside, eventually the thrill would set in again.

Let the Road Trip Begin

I’d researched a few places I’d seen other ‘vanlife’ types suggest and would move around most days. I was on the road with only a small collection of CDs for company - I’ve heard them all x1000. I started to get used to this way of life, I had found my rhythm. I’d become better at staying in touch with friends and family, they were only a phone call away and this really helped me stay grounded, staying tethered. I drove around Italy visiting hot springs (nothing like in Iceland), drove through Pisa to catch a glimpse of the leaning tower, swam in the sea - I had the beach to myself. As I floated I felt free again. This is pure bliss. This is a beautiful, simple life and it’s all my making. I was doing it, spending hours driving through the days then looking for a lake or forest area to park up in before night set in.

The stress that comes from trying to find the right place to park up, particularly at night – jeewhizz - it could get tense. I remember heading to Lake Goda only to realise on arrival that this was a tourist hotspot. There were no laybys to pull into or quiet car parks without a height restriction, let alone free. I kept driving past midnight and here is where the inner voice chirps up again. The voice says ‘you will find somewhere to park, you won’t be driving all night’. Almost instantly there it was, the perfect little pull in, although I’m now wired from hours of driving in the dark and start to fear this might be someones drive way. Eventually push came to shove, the moonlight through the window was soothing, the anxiety faded and I nodded off. Sleep won that night. The excitement of waking up eagerly to have that first peep out of the window - too good. That morning I had woken up and found myself in heaven. I was over looking a lake with the bluest water set to a backdrop of magnificent mountains. Peace had returned once more; I lived to see another day - I was getting the hang of this road trip biz.

Next stop the Balcons

In Iceland, I met and lived with many slavs. I didn’t know much about mainland Europe beyond Spain or Italy, typical ignorant brit. I had no real plan so I had the freedom to go with the flow, led only by the people I knew - other international volunteers I’d met whilst in Reykjavik. From Italy I decide to I head towards Slovakia via Austria. As I reached northern Italy, into the Alps the temperature dropped dramatically. Thank goodness I bought my lopapeysa, a traditional Icelandic woolen jumper. And I have a log burner in the van, which comes with it’s own stress. For instance I can’t go to sleep with it on for fear the whole van would burn down in my sleep. I am my Fathers daughter, I am risk aware.

Driving everyday I see beautiful landscape and I’ve created a safe haven in my home on wheels. I tend not to stray too far from the van when I park up; a look out the window, a stroll down the street then there’s usually something pulling me back preventing me for straying too far. After all I am my Fathers daughter, I’m aware of the potential threats I now face out here in the big wide world.

Never the less I find peace from parking up in nature. I tried parking up in built up areas but I just didn’t feel comfortable - no one wants an old, rusty van imposing or blocking their view, I don’t want to be talk of the town. I don’t want to think that everyone that I hear who passes by is planning to break in - I just don’t have the emotional capacity for people at the mo. Despite this heightened sense of stress, there is also an adventurer inside me who still gets a thrill from all of this. The buzz I get when I cross a border is second to none - tick, another new country! Fortunately then we could move freely around the schengan area (f*ck brexit). Its always a pleasant surprise to find yourself in a new place, noticing the subtle shifts. Although every country has its own vibe, northern Italy also appears pretty similar to Austrian architecture but everyones wearing their coats. The climates different. There seems to be a different energy or perhaps its the obvious fact I’d crossed a border and saw the sign telling me I’d arrived somewhere new. Another accomplishment, another step closer to Greece tick.

In Italy and Austria I met friends that I’d volunteered with whilst in Iceland. Camila showed me around Padua and suggested I could get the train to Venice to cut down costs. I found free parking and it cost €4 for the train, considerably cheaper than the price of driving over.

I was so excited, I was heading to actual Venice. From the moment I stepped off the train it was carnage. I overheard one guy describe it as pandemonium as I took my scooter, which I got told off by the police for scooting, for a mooch around Venice. Camilia had made some recommendations, one beautiful old cafe, a bookshop with an old gondola in thats now used as a bookcase. After a few hours I was done, tick. I headed back, I longed to get back to my own space, I could imagine staying to enjoy the place longer with company, instead I was on my own and wanted to get home.

In Austria I met an Icelandic friend working in the Icelandic Cafe there in Vienna, small world. He did a tarot reading for me, my first and all seemed about right. Sure, I was stepping out of one season of life into another. I took what applied then we ate and spoke about life. I soon realised we hadn’t ever spent that much time together when we lived in Reykjavik. I relished in how easy it felt to connect, to share this time, even though brief, a few hours one evening in Austria, Vienna. We parted ways and I left him and his friend. They’d spent the day enjoying the river in the sun. I was done with people after a few hours so headed home. I decided to continue driving that night, to find somewhere out of the city to park up in. I hadn’t realised just how close the border was and ended up crossing into Slovakia that night.

I’d asked my Slovakian friend, Marek, who stayed in Iceland, if he had any suggestions for me upon reaching his home country. He really pulled out all the stops in Bratislava. Marek had a friend, Juri, who offered to put me up for a few nights and show me around the city. Additionally I got to spend a night visiting Mareks family home, spend the night with his parents, who didn’t speak English, and his brother, who was recently back from working in America and now thrown into translating. I slept the night in Mareks room and thought about just how hospitable this human was letting me have a taste of his life here in Bratislava. His brother was on hand to translate his fathers take on the history of Slovakia from as far back as the 16th century, insightful.

Back with Juri, who’d opened up his home to me. He showed me around the city, we took a bike ride to some hotspots, there was a light installation in the evening, we danced the night away at some underground night, we went for some traditional food and had delicious pancakes that were only €0.20 each!

Juri introduced me to Dano who invited me to see life in a Slovakian village. I was introduced to the goats and to the family, who all lived in the surrounding area. We went to the woods to his families cabin. We cooked sausage over a fire, drank beer, smoked, put the world to rights and watched the stars. Upon leaving I was gifted two huge jars of home made honey. Marek was hospitable but I had no idea this would extend to friends of his being generous and open. I was seeing another ways of life. Because of I had been treated like an extension of his family, by his friends a hang over of Barma. I’m so very grateful to be shown this example of humanity. The bar has been raised.

After spending a few days with this community I decided to crack on and after a long drive through Hungary with not much to report, I was comfortable again making do with myself for company. I made it to Slovenia to meet one last housemate from Iceland. It was helpful to talk some things through that I’d experienced up to this point and start to anticipate what was next. Simon likes to ask the right question and did not hesitate to ask ‘so, what are you running away from?’. I am not apposed to big questions but I wasn’t sure what he meant. ‘I’m not running away, I’m just being open to the universe and what it has to show me’. He thought this was a good way to reframe ‘running away’. If I’ve learnt anything this year though, its not to let others influence your core beliefs. Grateful I could check in with my own beliefs.

Our past can be seen as a collection of stories we tell to define ourselves. I refer to the end of a romantic relationship acting as a catalyst for the ‘volunteer and wing it’ lifestyle I now have. Since tapping out of my conventional life, I fear I have an aversion to settling down again, living in one place, despite all of the great things that I experienced during that time. I now fear stability, isn’t that strange? Not that being unstable is any healthier, I just know that since then, I have delved deeper into myself, tried things that scare me and picked myself up enough times now to know my own strength. I don’t believe I am running away, perhaps making up for lost time spent wanting to travel, trying to get stuck into the life I’d always wanted, to see the world, to help change the world. I am constantly learning, now keen to face things head on and I see the beauty in chaos whilst I continue to seek out balance.

A guy I was seeing at the time suggested coming out for a visit, a fellow vanlife type. It was difficult to plan because I was on the move. I had no idea where I would be from one day to the next so we decided to meet them in Slovenia. Once again I had a focus. Here goes.