Live and love

Published: August 8, 2021 / Updated: August 16, 2021 Vilma My backpacking years

Raise your hand if you are a little bit in love with Bruno Mars. I know, so am I! Great talent and a killer smile.

Not long after the start of our trip I heard his newest single at that time – Gorilla. I kept listening to that over and over again. Just like in the past months I had been listening to Usher’s Tell Me. I wonder why we do that – keep listening to the song over and over again till we eventually get tired of it and move on to the next one? Bruno Mars had accompanied me on my trip almost from the start, and we were in a good place, I was not even close to getting tired of his music.

You can imagine then how I felt, when Bruno Mars agreed to host me and my Peruvian in his house in Brazil. ‘For real?’ – you ask. Ok, he wasn’t the REAL Bruno Mars, but tell me they didn’t look like two pees in a pod!

Falling in love with this guy was unavoidable. I think I melted as soon as I stepped into the house and saw our host. He was extremely sweet, made damn good savory crepes and mean margaritas. Plus, he sang and played the guitar just like the star.

While I showered I dreamt of him walking in on me. While passing his kitten from my arms into his I dreamt of being the kitten. I dreamt of kissing the guy.

I did feel bad afterwards as I believe my feelings and my thoughts were clearly written on my forehead. After we had left, my Peruvian asked me if I had been flirting with Bruno. ‘Not that I care’, – he added. I told him no, as I was doing so much more than flirting.

That was the only time when I got head over heels over a guy I’d met during my 3.5 year long trip. I guess by then I was sure there could be nothing more between me and my Peruvian than the friendship and companionship while the trip lasted.

Moreover, the trip could have ended at any moment. Just like life in general can end in the blink of an eye and without a warning.

Today, my memory of Paraguay is a blur. I don’t remember the names, I don’t remember the places, I don’t remember the faces. But I know I almost died there.

Late at night we arrived to a town where we had a couch surfing host waiting for us. The ride over was uneventful, but I do remember munching on chipa while relaxing next to the truck driver. Food in Paraguay was not impressive, but the chipa I liked!

We were walking along the road in the rain, trying to reach the house of our new host. That was all I remembered until I woke up in the hospital 3 days later with the bandage on my head, not being able to stand on my own two feet, and tubes poking out of more places than I care to remember. I did have random flashes of me being taken to the x-ray room or seeing the face of our host (I later found out that was him) by my hospital bed.

I got hit by a bus. I spent 2 weeks in a private hospital and a week later at a hotel, all expenses paid. We didn’t have travel insurance (I believe very few, if any, backpackers do) and we didn’t have home in Paraguay to go back to and rest. We had been on the move for years and suddenly I couldn’t move. It took a lot of effort for my Peruvian to fight for me, and with the help of a couple of influential friends I received a pretty good care.

Just remembering chipa made me nauseous for the longest time as it was the last I had eaten. Slowly, my head wound started to heal (today the big scar is hidden by my hair) and my swollen legs started to recover.

However, being able to walk unsupported was not the same as carrying a 15 kg backpack on my back and a 6 kg backpack on my front. Even after 3 weeks of rest I was not ready for that. But the insurance was no longer covering our stay and, honestly, we wanted to get the hell out of the country. So we started moving again, my Peruvian dragging 2 fully loaded backpacks while I just about managed the small ones. I don’t know how he did it. But he did. He saved me.

The lows

Published: August 2, 2021 / Updated: August 2, 2021 Vilma My backpacking years

The story of us crossing the Darien Gap simple deserves to be told.

Our boat had no motor, so we spent 7 days on the water, when the trip usually takes 3-5days. However, the crew was tight and we had lots of fun.

We were about to reach the San Blas islands, Panama. We had taken boxes of mangoes from Colombia with us and had been munching on them along the way. After a few days, however, the mangoes started to rot and it was impossible to escape the bad smell on the tiny boat. Remember, there were eleven of us and a dog. Before stepping on the boat, we had been eating the fruit for 3 days straight: mangoes for breakfast, mangoes for lunch and mangoes for dinner (the result of us running out of cash and not finding ATM machines in the small town of Capurgana, Colombia).

Mangoes gave me a rash and I couldn’t even look at the big beautiful fruit for 2 years after this trip, but trust me, the worst was yet to come.

I was going strong. Despite the never ending mangoes, despite the rash they gave me and despite the motion sickness that I had felt since the first night I spent on the boat. As I child, I suffered from that a lot (my mom would always have an extra bag with her whenever we went on a bus or stepped into a car). I couldn’t sleep inside the boat, that made me even more nauseous. I preferred to sleep outside breathing in the salty air, feeling the fresh wind, and looking at amazing night sky before closing my eyes. But then along came tuna.

Our captain, bless him, was as gorgeous as he liked to drink. He did take care of us: gave us food (the mangoes!) and water (sat inside plastic containers for days and looked questionable for sure). The captain did try, I have to say. One day he pulled out two beautiful tuna fish and made us all a huge bowl of ceviche right there and right then. It was awesome.

The second tuna was left on the side of the boat for a couple of days. We cooked it on the fire as we reached the first San Blas island. Yummy! We were finally on the ground after a few days at sea and we managed to put together a proper meal. The tuna with potatoes was just what we needed.

Back then I wasn’t keen on potatoes. Please, I had eaten them in every shape and form know to the human kind. In my country you eat potatoes for breakfast, lunch and dinner (so a bit like you do mangoes before you go on a sailing boat from Colombia to Panama) and for a snack in between. So it was just fish for me at that time in San Blas…

I was lying on the sand after a delicious meal, feet in the water, smiling to myself, when my Peruvian pointed out I had a big rash on my belly. I suddenly started to feel my cheeks burning and had to run to the bathroom (not an easy task when there were no real bathrooms on the small island). Then I needed to run again and again. Lord help me. My Peruvian reported that a few others were not feeling well either. The only girl who didn’t get food poisoning was the one who didn’t eat fish. She only had the potatoes. The first one to get sick was the one who skipped them.

Now let me remind you that we are talking about the same tiny boat with eleven of us and a dog. We had to get moving and could not stay on the island any longer. I don’t think you need much imagination to see us sharing the tiny claustrophobic bathroom amongst us. It was a disaster. It needed a lot of cleaning after.

And who cleaned after me? My Peruvian did.

My Peruvian was a hard core travel companion, and he didn’t think twice for the sake of everyone’s wellbeing. And for that am I grateful. We had each other, even at the worst of times.

The highs

Published: July 11, 2021 / Updated: July 19, 2021 Vilma My backpacking years

Not having blond hair and blue eyes, as is typical in my country, helped me blend in with locals in pretty much all the countries we visited. Even my name is quite popular in Latin America.

My Peruvian, even more so, could have easily been mistaken for an Argentinian or Mexican. And that helped us a lot, especially trying to get the local prices. In some places, however, being overcharged was unavoidable. I remember in Haiti I was asked to pay 24 times more (I calculated!) for a pineapple in the market. Sure, I definitely didn’t look like a local there, but luckily I had some local friends with me who talked the old man into giving me the fair price.

This is how I wanted to start writing this time. And only at that point it dawned on me that I did have blue eyes!!!

So scratch that! Let me start over.

I bet my Peruvian didn’t expect to carry two fully loaded backpacks at some point during this trip. And he didn’t think he’d have to clean the terrible looking bathroom after me (I’m so so sorry!) Or maybe he did. That’s what an adventure and being on the road is all about, right?

So before we jump to the bad, let’s start with the good. I can’t count how many amazing things I experienced during this trip, but I will mention a few highlights:

  • Hiking up and down the canyon. The trek took us 4 days in total as we wanted to visit the ruins off the beaten track. Every mosquito bite was worth seeing the Choquequirao in Peru, but ,damn it, the trek was so hard (and it was my first time, too) I cried. The flip flops I was wearing didn’t help, nor did my Converse.
  • Freediving in Utila, Honduras. It felt good to learn something new. It felt even better to stop for a while and sleep in the same bed for a couple of weeks.
  • Teaching English in a small town of San Pedro by Lago Peten Itza in Guatemala. I enjoyed it so much that it inspired me to get my TEFL certificate later on, which eventually brought me back to Latin America a few years later. Plus, I made good friends with a really lovely girl from Australia.
  • Being one of the two temporary inhabitants on one of the islands in San Blas, Panama
  • Having a $1 lobster in Cuba. The first time at the restaurant we paid $10 USD. The second time in the less fancy restaurant it cost us $5 USD. Then finally we got freshly caught lobster for $1 USD. Delicious.
  • Fighting dinosaurs in Salar de Uyuni, Bolivia. Who would have thought, eh?
  • Trying out the famous sopa de caracol. We liked the soup and the restaurant so much, that we went out of our way to come back there the second time.

Thanks to all the wonderful places I got to see, now I’ve got my list of the three most beautiful beaches in the world:

  1. Port Salut, Haiti

2. Playa Bahia de las Aguilas, Dominican Republic

3. Beach strip in Zona Hotelera in Cancun, Mexico

Where there is good, there’s bad, and where there are highs, there are lows. The trip didn’t lack the latter, which only made it more memorable – looking back, not at that precise moment! It’s hard to see the beauty of the place when you are lying on the bottom of the boat and praying for it to stop moving as the contents of your stomach move just at much…

The road

Published: July 5, 2021 / Updated: July 5, 2021 Vilma My backpacking years

‘The furthest distance in life is between what it is and what you thought it would be’

– The Only Living Boy in New York.

I couldn’t agree more, especially when it comes to relationships.

I don’t fly across the world just for anybody. I do that when there’s a connection, when we have chemistry, when I believe we’ll get along better than fine and when I see myself in a long white dress saying ‘I do’ and actually liking my new last name.

Some guys are very straightforward, painstakingly so, and they shatter my dreams in a blink of an eye. ‘If you think I’ll marry you one day or have family with you, you are wrong’ – announced one boyfriend after a few months of being in a relationship with me. ‘You will never be enough for me’ – blurted out the other one after a couple of months of being together. Ouch! Talk about being honest…

So you can see now that taking that flight to Lima, Peru, was the natural step my universe. Did I think the guy was gorgeous? Yes. Was I head over heels in love with him already? Yes!

I told you once this will not be a travel blog. And right now I wish it was. Because I have so much to say, so much to share and so much to be grateful for. For once, I never imagined that I’d be backpacking through 15 plus countries in Latin America. What a mind blowing experience that was!.. I never expected to see so much kindness in this world, to meet so many beautiful souls. The trip made me rich in a way no money ever could. And for that I will forever be grateful to my Peruvian (I would have not done this without him), his family and every single person that I met on the way).

What happened during the 3.5 years is a treasure. Of course, not all of it was roses. Far from it. The beginning was tough. We were very different, we came from different cultures. Things got better along the way as we got to know each other better, but we had many misunderstandings turning into fights. Had we been living in our own places and dating, it would have been a very different story. Spending 3.5 years with another person, when the furthest he gets from you is the other side of the tent, is no joke. Even when we were fighting we couldn’t run away and hide. ‘At least we have each other’ became both our blessing and our curse.

Hitchhiking was no walk in the park either. Those days when nobody stopped (and I mean nobody) was a torture.

But the smile on my face rarely faded.

The drivers that did pick us up were not all sweet as honey. One tried to put his hand on my knee, the other tried to kiss me. I said: ‘No, dude, get off me’, and still took the ride, but let the Peruvian sit next to the driver.

Besides the few above mentioned episodes, we were lucky to encounter a great deal of amazing people, probably as eager for a company on the long road as we were eager for a ride on that same long road.

And riding like this

was definitely better than riding like that

Although at times we came close.

Every ride we took was an adventure.

Be it on the road or on the water.

From riding in a Jaguar to having to sit for over 24 hours on the hardest bus seat ever…

From riding in an ambulance to being pick up by the local police (to give us a ride, of course), we’ve done it all.

But maybe it doesn’t matter what road you take to get there, as long as you reach your happy ending.

Cheers to being single (mom)

Published: June 13, 2021 / Updated: June 24, 2021 Vilma Life in Europe: Alderney

Being a single mom is not easy. The house owner where you want to rent turns you down, just because you have a kid. The guy you thought you could actually have something beautiful with turns you down, just because you have a kid. Yes, I do, and I love her to infinity and back infinite times. And if that is not good enough for you, that is most certainly not good enough for me.

Most of the time in my life I’ve got no clue what I’m doing (especially now as a mum). I certainly had zero understanding about what I was getting myself into when I decided to escape from my life (more specifically, my life in Alderney) and just travel. Innocent enough plan. Well, my family didn’t think so! My mom kept saying I took too many risks and they didn’t always paid off (true). My sister kept asking how could I just buy myself a plane ticket and fly to Peru to meet a guy I knew nothing about (not entirely true)? I had no answers for them, but I had plenty of enthusiasm.

I don’t use dating apps anymore these days, got no time or desire to do extra work after my official work hours. But back in Alderney I did. It was Kristina’s idea! She told me she signed up for okcupid and encouraged me to do the same. I did, and I set the search criteria to the whole world, of course, as in order to see any human outside of Alderney required getting on a plane anyway.

And there he was, as gorgeous brown eyed guy as I had ever seen, almost as good looking as Orlando Bloom. He seemed to have an adventurous nature and we quickly hit it off.

After a few weeks of innocent (and sometimes not so much) chatting, he told me he was planning a hitchhiking trip from Peru to Mexico. And asked whether I’d liked to join him. Hell yes! That’s what I told him, minus the ‘hell’ part. This was the answer I’d been waiting for. As I couldn’t decide where I wanted to go next, but no longer desired to stay on the island, it seemed like a perfect solution to take some time off and just travel. See what comes out of it. We calculated around 6 months, and we were off by 3 years.

My Peruvian was careful to put me at ease about who he was and what he did. Half beach bum and half world traveler, his Couchsurfing account was truly impressive. I had not heard of anything like this before, so I carefully read about this idea of hosting (being hosted) strangers in your home and studied his references.

We had a plan and we had each other. What I was missing I ordered from Amazon (a backpack and a pair of comfy hiking shoes. In reality I didn’t get the latter, I chose a pair of Converse. They were cute and they served me well in both hot and cold weather (with the warmest socks I could lay my hands on), but they certainly weren’t suitable for climbing mountains and carrying 13 kg backpack on top of me every day for a very long time). But hey, who can blame me for wanting to look good for my Peruvian?

So after heartfelt goodbyes and promises to see each other again, I headed to London to board the plane to Lima. I started a diary too, for the second time in my life (the first one had lots of drama from high school years, especially to do with the boy who got me addicted to chocolate).

I hope to be able to read these diaries to my daughter one day, so she can see how amazing and fearless her mama was/still is.

The grateful girl

Published: May 28, 2021 / Updated: June 7, 2021 Vilma Life in Europe: Alderney

Beaches and friends. That’s what Alderney gave me and that is why I treasure my life on the island so much. Kristina would dare to disagree. All she heard was me complaining about the fog and the rain. You know, the best weather one can ask for come summer or winter…

She heard all about it in person, when I finally made it to Thailand – my first hand experience of travel plans literally disappearing into the fog, well, due to fog!

We also met in San Francisco, CA, and celebrated our 30th together. Another amazing trip!

If anything, my job at Aurigny gave me enough vacation days and, gratefully, enough savings to enjoy it. But like I said, the island was a treasure on its own, a little gem close to the coast of France. You know how in rare places of this world you put apples for sale outside your house and an empty jar to collect the money? And people actually leave you the money? Well, in Alderney that’s how they live.

And if you could expect something like this on a tiny island you’d never heard of before, you could not expect to meet somebody from your country. Not where the population is 2000.

And not where you can count the shopping options on your one hand fingers. In short, shopping in Alderney sucks. There are a couple of boutiques where you may find unique but expensive pieces. And one shoe store. Everybody shops online or flies to the mainland UK.

One day I was in that shoe store desperately trying to find a pair of comfy work shoes (Amazon and all that jazz came later). The sales woman told me her friend’s daddy had been from my country. I couldn’t believe it. I met her, the friend, and I’ll always remember how she greeted me with a beautiful bouquet of flowers and with a tiny flag from my country poking out of it. A beautiful friendship began to form. We had shared a lot of heart warming and fun moment during the years. I call her Bubbles, because she’s got the bubbliest personality I know. And she loves the champagne.

And that is only one of the stories. I made several very close friends like that. They are very dear to my heart, even though we are far in distance. I hope that one day we will get to see each other again.

Besides my new friends, I loved the island beaches. Mainly because they never got crowded. Even when they did, the social distancing was totally doable. Sure, the water was as cold as the cheater’s heart, but the natural beauty was stunning. Be it sand or pebbles, rocks or pier, every single beach in Alderney is precious.

After 7 years, though, I started feeling restless. No news there, huh? It’s a miracle I lasted that long, given my track record! Slowly, I came to a point where I needed to escape. The island was becoming too small for me. Where? That was a million dollar question. And I pondered on it for a few long weeks. Cayman islands? Back to the USA? Back to Europe? Another exotic island in the middle of nowhere? Or just drop it all and travel till I figure something out?

Guess what choice I made.

The cheated girl

Published: May 21, 2021 / Updated: May 24, 2021 Vilma Life in Europe: Alderney

My mom gave him that nickname. ‘He looks like a real eye candy boy’, – she said as soon as she saw him the first time.

Before my mom got to come and visit me, a lot had happened. After the night where I got to dance with him at the bunker party for the first time, and after the same night when I made out not far from my house like I’ve never made out before, people I hardly knew would stop me in the street and say: ‘I hear you are seeing the eye candy boy’. Or: ‘I hear you are going out with him’. And I had to look up the difference between the two as I was getting confused!

I also got told: ‘I’m his best friend, you be nice to him’. And ‘I’m his ex, I hear you are dating’. Yes, the news was quick to spread. And at the beginning I’d still see the gardener once in a while, until he saw me gyrating (his word in the text soon after it happened) with the boy and told me he was backing away.

The eye candy boy was still a boy. He was 9 years my junior, imagine that! But he was gorgeous. He worked with his hands, and I always loved that in men. Somehow a man who spends all his day in front of a computer screen (no offence to all of you lovely friends reading this post) doesn’t appeal to me as much as a man who spends his day digging dirt, sometimes literally!

He liked to go out and had many friends, having grown up on the island. Going out with him I made new friends too and got a bit into the party scene. Don’t blame me, going to the pub after work or a disco on the weekend was and probably still is the thing to do in Alderney. Besides, his mom didn’t mind serving me a huge plate of delicious English breakfast on Sunday mornings.

We had a lot of fun. We would cook together, go exploring the local beaches, be lazy watching TV. I couldn’t complain. He made my life in Alderney so much more exciting.

Then my mom came for a visit. Bless her, she’s my hero. She took 3 planes but she made it alright. That’s when she saw the eye candy boy.

And that’s when the eye candy boy cheated on me. Remember the ‘I’m his ex’ comment? That’s right, with her. I admire him for coming out straight, but he couldn’t have chosen a worse moment. I was on a long walk with my mom when I received his text asking to see me. While my mom was admiring Longis bay, he broke my heart.

‘I slept with my ex last night’, he told me. I asked how it happened (he was drunk) and why it happened (he couldn’t give me the answer). So now just imagine me trying to hide my tears and keep a straight face in front of my mom. I couldn’t tell her…

There was a break, of course. Until he showed up on my doorstep with 3 pages of handwritten letter. I read and re-read and re-read those pages many times. The boy was crushed and punishing himself hard. I was crushed too, but seeing his regret made me believe we could get through this.

And although none of my other partners cheated on me or, shall I say, came out and admitted having done so, it always made me wonder. Can you truly forgive infidelity? Can you move on from the pain and let go? Could you see the bigger picture and call it a mistake?

I tried. But the trust was no longer there. Every night spent apart turned into an ugly guessing game. Doubts turned into blame. The relationship was over the moment he told me the truth.

Funnily enough when we decided to break up for good we had already booked our vacation in Canary islands. It was April and we desperately wanted some sun after the rainy and foggy winter. So we decided to still go together. Mistake! It was not fun having to spend two weeks sleeping in separate beds and kind of feeling like strangers. We had a past, so it was not so easy to let go. I remember the boy being in the shower when I decided to check his phone messages. Mistake! Girls, beware! Don’t go through somebody’s phone if you don’t want to find something you don’t like. Because you will. You shouldn’t even think about it, having all the trust in the world in your partner. But we were far from it and I got annoyed seeing him constantly checking his messages.

Lo and behold, the message was from the roofman’s ex/current girlfriend (I stopped trying to figure it out long before this happened), saying what a fantastic time they would have when he got back.

Eye candy boy, I ran away from the hotel room that night and waited for you to come and find me. But you never did.

The party girl

Published: May 18, 2021 / Updated: May 18, 2021 Vilma Life in Europe: Alderney

‘What’s your name?’ – asked the guy who had jumped out of a battered up pick up truck and stopped me in the middle of the road. It was a sunny Sunday morning and I was just walking through the cobbled streets of Alderney enjoying my day off. And then boom – this happened. It felt like a ‘movie star’ moment, and I didn’t mind. I was still the new girl in town. ‘Vilma’, – I said. ‘I’m the gardener’, – he replied, jumped back into his truck and drove away leaving me smiling to myself.

Some time has passed since I came to the island. I found myself a new place to live (thank you for the offer, Helen!), which meant my own room and my own bathroom in a lovely family home. I found myself a better job (I’m pretty sure I owe thanks to somebody there as well) and the island was starting to rub off quite nicely on me.

The walks to and from the new restaurant were pure pleasure with amazing views of the coastline. I hated it when it rained. But the islanders were very friendly and would always offer me a ride up or down the hill in the nasty weather. They would offer it on sunny days too, just to show how truly friendly they were!

A couple of days after the ‘movie star’ incident (see above) I realized that the gardener was living next door to my new place of work. How did I come to realize that? Because he called out my name one morning from his balcony when I was getting ready for the night service. And so the casual greetings turned into the visits to his house – very convenient having to go up just a few steps after my shift.

Now if you think that this turned into something serious, you are absolutely right. It turned into dating 2 men (or at least as close as I ever came to that) at the same time.

Which brings us back to ‘I heard you were making out with the eye candy boy last night’ mentioned previously. Going out with the gardener was ok. It wasn’t great, but it wasn’t bad either. The visits were kind of monotonous, and I think by now you know me well enough to know I’m not ‘the same thing every day’ kind of girl. Oh wait, but I am! Now… Sort of… Back then it was different. And I’ve got one waitress to blame.

About 10 years younger, still in high school, she was the sweetest thing and she did her job well. But she was also always full of stories about a bunker party or a house party she had been to the night before. I had done none of the partying and as you remember, my high school years were spotless and quiet too. But my coworker was a mystery to me. I listened and I listened until I could not just listen anymore and started asking questions. At that time another student joined us at the restaurant and she was also full of stories of the previous night. They both encouraged me to come with them to one of the bunker parties and guaranteed me I’d have a great time.

‘What’s a bunker party?’ – you ask. The recipe is simple. You take a bunker.

You add some lights and music.

You throw in some youngsters.

And you’ve got yourself a party.

Now don’t freak out, please. Having spent the past year in lockdown and still facing the pandemic, I know what you are thinking. The parties were not organized during that time. But when I was there it was the thing to do and the place to be seen (huh? In that darkness?). The bunker would be a mile or two outside of town. But who counted? You’d go with a bunch of friends and have fun on the way. You’d see the bright stars in the dark night sky. You’d do your business on the grass on the side of the road and continue walking like nothing had happened.

Even though I was not yet 30, I was one of the older people there (I checked!). Still, those parties were amazing, something I had never done before. And in one of the first parties I’d gone to, I met the eye candy boy.

The new girl

Published: May 9, 2021 / Updated: May 10, 2021 Vilma Life in Europe: Alderney

‘I heard you were making out with the eye candy boy last night’ – my friend told me. And that basically sums up the island of Alderney – everybody knew everything, in most cases even before it happened. Don’t get me wrong, it was a very special place to me, and very dear to my heart. But it was also very small, and living in a tiny community comes with its challenges.

Of course, I knew nothing about the life on a small island when I took up the job offer. I’d never lived on one before. But that was part of the fun. I had my job and my accommodation all lined up for me, my paperwork was being sorted (although part of the UK, it was not part of the EU at the time). All I needed to do was take a plane. Take it I did. The plane got diverted to Southampton because of the fog and I simply had no idea that was an indication of Alderney weather – the never ending fog. I was just happy I got to spend a night in a hotel, all expenses paid.

Finally the 18 seater Trislander plane approached what looked like a little green paradise, with old forts dotted here and there, and blue waters washing its shores. It looked like nothing I’d seen before.

The island looked magical in the sunlight. And it didn’t so when the rain came. And then the fog. And then the rain. And then more fog. You are starting to get the picture, right? Even though the island was really small, I managed to get lost the first night I went for a walk. I blamed the rain and the fog.

Compared to me previous jobs, this one offered me a private room. What an improvement from the room shared by four! The bathroom was shared, but I had to be grateful for little blessings.

Slowly I started make the transition from the new to the familiar face in the community. At first the coffee lovers in the morning would greet me with ‘Aren’t you the new girl? Where are you from?’, like they didn’t already know, while I fixed them their lattes and cappuccinos. Later they’d say ‘The usual, please, Vilma’ and sit at the same table waiting for the same drink as they did every morning.

I easily made friends with other people working at the restaurant. Some friends warm up my heart up to this day, some were in my life for a brief time, long enough to go out to a pub together or enjoy a cocktail at the Mai Thai.

On one of the stops at the pub after work, a handsome guy saw me for the first time and told me: ‘One day I’ll marry you’. Well, that was quite a statement, there’s no denying that. It was the beer talking, of course, but it took only that much to make my heart beat just a little bit faster! The roofman would show up during my years on the island for brief periods of time. And every time I saw him I would remember the words in the pub that night. What if it wasn’t just the beer? What if?.. He didn’t frequent nearly us often as the fog did, but he did knock on my door couple of times in the middle of the night.

Funnily enough, his two brothers showed me some interest, too. This is what it meant to be the new girl on the island. I had the attention. However, the roofman always ruled my heart.

Another character started showing up at the restaurant with bouquets of flowers and boxes of chocolates, begging me to go out with him. You know me, right, I can’t say no to chocolate. So I did. We met up a few times, shared a couple of laughs, cooked a couple of meals, till he left my place one evening and ended up with his ex the following morning.

From the ‘marriage proposal’ to cheating, I’d gone through it all in Alderney.

In and out of harbor

Published: May 4, 2021 / Updated: May 4, 2021 Vilma Life in Europe: Back Home

I didn’t go back to Greece. One time was enough, I decided, and I couldn’t really bear to think of another summer full of shouting. And no matter how much I missed him, I was not the girl for him. A few years later I found out he got married to another girl from my country.

So I was back home, but I had no intention of staying there. My English had improved over my years in the USA, and I wanted to continue practicing it. So I looked for jobs in the UK.

I was staying at my sister’s. Living in one place for just a couple of years comes at a price, you now. I had no home in my home country. So my sister’s place was my harbor, and it still is whenever I go back to visit.

I love my family: my mom, my sister, my nephews and my nieces.

But I also love exploring and have an adventurous nature. I take risks that pay off and that don’t. So leaving my country again was not a big deal for me. It was another adventure. Besides, I had no strings attached. The men came and went, brought joys and left tears, and there was a big wide world out there to explore.

Just so you get the full picture here, I did have a couple more flings before I left that time.

Even though I no longer use dating apps today, I had used them quite a lot during my younger years. While back home, I started chatting with a guy from my country who was working in Norway. In short, he was tall, blond and handsome. So after some time chatting, he actually came to visit his family and we got to meet. Hearing his voice for the first time over the phone was very exciting. And seeing him bring me chocolates and a bottle of Baileys was even more so! The visit didn’t last long, but it was very fulfilling.

My other online romance turned into an adventure as well. But this time I was the one who accepted the offer to come and visit Savannah, GA. Remember the part about me taking risks? Here you have it. Kristina told me she’d check on me as soon as I landed and she demanded (!) I get in touch with her every day to let her know I was ok. I mean who at this day and age flies to the other side of the world to meet a guy she’s only previously seen online? Has she not heard about fake profiles and not seen ‘Catfish‘? Well, then was not ‘this day and age’ and I do (did). Besides, how bad could the guy be, if his dog looked like this? It was huge, and it was called Tiny.

The guy was great. He had a good nature and he was into me for sure. We did have a lovely time together, shared meals in, had nights out, even danced on the street! He drove me from Savannah to HHI as I wanted to go back to the place that brought me so much joy and pain. But to be honest with you, I think I fell in love with the dog, not with the man.

So after a couple of weeks and regular check ins I ended up visiting Kristina, before I flew back home.

And now it was time for a new adventure. And maybe a new man.

I remember getting the phone call. It was the hotel manager from Alderney. Now raise your hand if you’ve ever heard of that place. Neither have I! But that was soon to become my home for the next seven years…