Skip to main content

Last weekend in Minneapolis = success. Plus, contact info for abroad!

Hi friends,

I sit writing to you thirty minutes before the plane boards. Only one slight mishap so far. I zoomed through security, only to sit down at the gate to write this post and SNAP! There goes the strap on my dress, completely off. Bad omen? I'm not sure. It forced me to buy a sewing kit (which of course I didn't pack), so fortunately this happened to me now, and not when a sewing kit wasn't in twenty feet of me.

Yours truly, 2 1/2 hours before takeoff.

This weekend has been a whirlwind, which I will briefly describe:

Friday was spent in the car, driving from Kansas to Minnesota with my parents. It's not a bad route- just a straight shot up I-35. The last time I did this drive with my parents was in August 2009, when I first moved to Minneapolis to go to the University of Minnesota. The first time I did it was from 2002, when I went to Spanish immersion camp in Bemidji. It seems like driving up to Minnesota with parents usually signifies a new chapter in my life- first time away from home, going off to college, now my international adventure. Pretty cool- I wonder if this drive will happen again, and in what capacity?

Saturday morning consisted hauling all of my things out of my apartment, packing them into a U-Haul, and unloading them into a storage unit off of Como and 280. You think you've done soooo well at paring down your stuff and acting all minimalist until you start moving. I'm eternally grateful to my parents for being so helpful- honestly could not have done it without them. Four hours and three sweaty, grumpy people later, everything's packed away neatly and we're sitting down to deeeelicious lunch at El Taco Riendo. Saturday afternoon was a lot of down time for the parents, a lot more cleaning and apartment stuff for me. We ended up at Black Sheep Pizza for dinner (Dad's favorite) and I drove them down to Minnehaha Falls, which they have never been to. It's some of the little things you take for granted in Minneapolis, like the Falls, that you never think to show visitors.

Early Sunday morning we trekked over to Hard Times before Mom and Dad drove home. I fulfilled one of the last items on my bucket list by ordering glorious migas. The rest of the day consisted of marching at Pride, eating at Brasa, unpacking my backpack, packing it again, and last minute chats and phone calls before heading to the airport. Finally on my way!

I'm hoping the camp (Le Saut Du Loup) has Wi-Fi, so I can update you all soon.

In the meantime, the camp does have a mailing address, so if you feel like dropping me a line, I'd love to hear from you. When I went to Spanish camp, my grandpa sent me a care packing with chocolate, crackers and those Babybel cheeses with the little red wax covers. Definitely not necessary- a postcard would suffice :)

Sophie Wallerstedt
American Village
La Bergerie du Saut du Loup
47800 MIRAMONT DE GUYENNE
FRANCE

I'll definitely be there the entire month og July.

My phone will not work abroad, but I will be on WhatsApp and Skype (my username is sophie_wallerstedt).

And, if you haven't yet, please subscribe to my blog so you don't have to check Facebook/this page for updates! You can type in your email in the top left corner- you'll get an email that will require you to verify your email address.

I don't have much else to say at this point, except THANK YOU to everyone who has supported me in my decision to do this. Thanks for the trip advice, the borrowed stuff, taking care of my things while I'm gone, all the warm feelings as I head out. I can't thank you enough.

Love,

Sophie

Comments

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

My farmstay in Hotnitsa, Bulgaria: A chance to be vegan, getting back on a bike, plus a recipe from yours truly!

“Here,” he said, handing me a pair of latex gloves. “You might need these.” It’s my first night on the organic farm in Hotnitsa, Bulgaria , and my host Rodo is warning me of the spiciness of the chili peppers he gave me. “Seriously, don’t touch your eyes or nose after you handle them. They’re dangerous.” Part of the farm on a foggy morning Earlier that day, Rodo gave me a tour of the farm, stopping ever so often to pile more veggies into my arms. Green beans, zucchini, tomatoes, cabbage, onions, and the aforementioned chilies , Rodo’s specialty. Rodo, originally from France, has been in Hotnitsa since about 2008. A former investment banker, he gave up consulting and bought a homestead in a small village outside of Veliko Tarnovo. He grows strictly organic, sells his produce in markets, and does his best to give back to the land. Average day on the farm I met Rodo online through Workaway , an organization that connections volunteers with hosts worldwide. In exchan...
5 comments
Read more

Cluj-Napoca: Proof that friends can be found anywhere, and that I still love polenta.

Last Monday, October 5 View on the way to Cluj My alarm goes off at at 5:45am, and I ready myself for my longest train ride in Eastern Europe to date. Six hours barreling through western Romania into Northern Transylvania, arriving at Cluj-Napoca in the early afternoon. What could be bad about that? It turns out, nothing, save for the moment I allow myself to leave the carriage to go to the bathroom, and find myself in a developing country, smells and sights included. I resolve to limit my water-drinking on travel days from now on. For those of you who know I have a constant sidekick in my water bottle, this is easier said than done. However, I arrive in Cluj on time and relatively unscathed. Lucia, my CS host, patiently guides me  over the phone from station to bus to bus stop to apartment, and before I know it I’m in her living room, drinking coffee (my first of the day! how did I survive this long?) and chatting about couchsurfing, international politics, and fr...
1 comment
Read more

My first day in Yerevan, Armenia: lots of stairs, lots of apricots, and plenty of pictures

Jet lag has never been a huge issue for me. I’m usually so tired from traveling that I’ll crash as soon as I’m in bed that evening. With the 9-hour time difference, though, I was a little worried that I’d have a hard time falling asleep, or worse yet, waking up. That scene in Frances Ha where she sleeps through almost her entire weekend in Paris is my own personal nightmare. I tried not to sleep too much on my second flight (five hours in the air, 2 on the ground, yikes). I arrived at my hostel around midnight, took a melatonin pill, read one page on my Kindle and crashed. I woke up a few times in the night, and slept about 45 minutes past my initial alarm this morning. I still made it to the free hostel breakfast early, made an instant coffee and fixed myself a plate of cucumbers, tomatoes, Armenian cheese and bread. I chatted briefly with a Norwegian-American journalist who regaled me with his Eastern European travels from 15 years ago when you could get a Belorussian visa at th...
1 comment
Read more