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Skiing over international borders in Italy

4/25/2013

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I never thought I would say that a restaurant saved my life.  I don’t consider myself an adventure seeker or an adrenaline junkie by any means.  I do, however, like to visit new places, experience different cultures and taste local cuisine.  While I don’t like to be cold and would much rather lay on a warm beach, I ski for two reasons.   First, I am fascinated by the views that can only be seen from on the mountain, and second, I love to eat.  

While recently skiing in Zermatt, Switzerland within the comfort and safety of the resort, I was overwhelmed with the towering mountain landscape that is the Alps.  Having skied a lot at resorts in the United States, this panoramic view was like nothing I had ever experienced.  The runs were long and secluded; sometimes I found myself making turn after turn with my husband as the only other person in sight.  It was as if we had our own personal mountain.  The views were so awe-inspiring that although I was ready for a break, I pushed forward and focused on rewarding myself with lunch in Cervinia, Italy.  My legs were tired, already sore from three days on the slopes, but I could not pass up the opportunity to ski over international borders.  

As I stepped off the Matterhorn Glacier Paradise lift at 12,740ft, I was overwhelmed with the beautiful vista that surrounded me, but I was also shocked by the extreme change in climate.  I knew having gone up in elevation that there would be a vast glacial terrain, but I was not prepared for the conditions.  At -13 degrees Fahrenheit and 30mph winds, it was the weather that took my breath away, not the views.  Within seconds of taking my gloves off to get a few pictures, my hands were painfully numb, and I was unable to hold onto the camera.  I fumbled trying to get my gloves back on and headed as fast as I could down the long, open glacier run into Italy hoping to find a place to rest inside as soon as possible.  The winds were blowing so hard that I found it difficult to control my turns.  While the gondola was full coming up, I realized that my husband and I were the only ones around and thought it was likely that we were the only ones crazy enough to stay up here.  My husband took one look at me and began to massage my nose, telling me that it looked frostbitten.  The cold had affected me so quickly.  I was already cold and hungry before we started this run, but now I was getting desperate for both food and shelter.   


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Cigarettes, condoms and sex in Vienna

4/11/2013

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“Got an extra cigarette?” I asked in my best flirty voice, complete with a sideways glance and a tilt of my head.

The Argentinian man turned from the bar where he had been laughing with his friend to give me a slow, body length scan. “You shouldn’t smoke,” he replied with a smirk in his thick accent, as he took a long, hard suck from his cigarette, and then handed me one from his pack.

I was 25, newly divorced, and on a six week backpacking trip around Europe by myself. I had always been a good little Christian girl. My husband was the second person I ever had sex with. Now – well let’s just say I had seen more of Europe than the museums.

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An Internet chatroom and a drug dealer in London

4/4/2013

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I meet David in a British chat room the spring before I moved to a hostel in London. Usually I’d sit online trying to screw with internet predators in hopes that if they were wasting their time being frustrated with by me, maybe they weren’t chatting inappropriately with underage teens. David seemed fairly normal though. He upfront told me he didn’t want to have cybersex (cool) and that he liked American girls because of their “moxie” (aka the fact that I was screwing with the minds of paedophiles and creepers). We decided to meet up in London when I got there.

Totally safe, right? Totally. No big deal. Yeah, he was from Croydon, yeah, he had a thick cockney accent, yeah, he said he’d run away to Greece one time after “gettin’ into a bit o’ trouble” and yeah, he had a distinctive scar across his nose after some knife fight that he got into in Cuba, but what the hell, I was a savvy traveller. I can take this guy on if he thinks a little sexual assault is part of the date.

Still, I’m not too worried.  David’s got a pretty cheeky side to him, but at the same time, he’s also pretty transparent.  

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