RTW Ramblings

Me and my new friend Nueng

What a trip this has been. I have made a complete lap around the world. I have tried things I may not have tried at home. I rode an elephant. I met kids I wanted to put in my suitcase and take home with me. I hopped on a plane to go somewhere that I knew absolutely no one. I survived living on a boat for a whole week. I learned to speak Australian. I met a very nice boy I hope to see again one day soon.

I have no idea what's next for me. Well I sort of do. Today I am going to catch a bus to Zadar and try to not feel lonely. Tomorrow I am going to fly home. Thursday I am going to New York for TBEX. Past that I have no idea. Not sure I like the uncertainty as much as I did before.

In some sense I am glad to come home. I am desperately craving Mexican food and my own bed that doesn't move. I miss my family even though I don't like to admit it. But this view could keep someone here forever.

Branson: Day 2

So today started out on an interesting note. I woke up, got dressed, was slightly embarrassed by my mane of a hairdo, and went on to our complimentary “Continental Breakfast.” The food was fine but I noticed two guys sitting at a table in close proximity to ours. I didn’t really pay attention to them. After all, they weren’t that attractive or interesting. So I started eating and they headed out the door when a lady who worked at the hotel came up to me. She said, “Don’t think this is strange or anything, but a boy who was sitting in here before wanted me to give you his number and was too shy to ask for yours.” Oh please. No no. You don’t ask for a girl’s number through a hotel employee while standing at the glass door waving at my grandmother sitting beside me. You suck. Honestly? Go watch some movies and see how they do it. Because you’re weird and that’s just not okay with me. So anyways, I declined that fantastic offer (excuse me while I wipe off the sarcasm dripping from my lips) and told the woman no, that’s weird. I also didn’t even care to look back at the boys when they were waving. Oh, the life of a heartbreaker. I love it. So we went on towards the outside of Branson to the College of the Ozarks. I had heard raves about some restaurant at the college so we decided to make a trip there. But this isn’t a normal school like all the others I’ve toured before. This is a small Christian school with strict rules and a tough-as-nails working policy. Its nickname is “Hard Work U,” as is stated on plaques and banners all around campus. You see, the students here don’t pay tuition and don’t work up massive debts during their four years here. Instead, they pay off their tuition by working at one of the 50 or so student-run institutions on campus. Everything here is student led, which I found very cool. The waiters, waitresses, managers, bookkeepers, helpers, farmers, gardeners, and even firemen are all students at the college. Interested in learning more about this unique system, I grabbed two of every brochure I could find in the Keeter Center, a log cabin looking lodge, restaurant, and gift shop. It was beautiful and looked rather new, but we decided to come back for lunch. So Meme and I walked onwards towards campus, where we made our way into the library, chapel, museum, lookout point, lake, and other spots of interest. But we barely made a dent in the campus lined with paw prints, a symbol of the school pride here. Walking by everything made me feel peaceful and impressed with the vibe here. The lake was beautiful, the grass and trees perfectly green, and all the buildings seemed warm and welcoming. And students did all of the work going into creating this feeling. Young people just a few years older than I am. It made me proud and excited for college as an experience centered around the empowerment of youth. Oh and the guys working on campus were hella-attractive. My kind of place! On the left side of the school is a beautiful river and a picturesque view of the Ozarks (how fitting). It felt like this place could be a really great home, and an awesome opportunity to those who have a hard time paying such high tuition costs. So after walking back up the hill to the Keeter Center (a hellish task in 94 degree weather), it was time for what I had been waiting for—lunch. I had read reviews and heard about this place so much that I was ready for the best meal of my life. You walk into the restaurant, called the Dobyns Dining Room, and see windows making way for a porch overlooking the beauty of Branson. The restaurant itself has carved wooden chairs, brass embellished ceilings, and a cozy-yet-upscale feeling to it. We took our seats after relocating to a better-ventilated area (by suggestion of our adorable Hungarian waitress) and awaited a delicious time. Out came our drinks, which were raspberry teas. I gulped that down like it was water—I just couldn’t get enough and I don’t think the heat from outside was even a factor in that. Then came the bread, consisting of rolls and scones with little cast iron griddles with butter and apple butter for our delight. The apple butter was fantastic, and I mopped it up with the unbelievably perfect cranberry scones. I kept reassuring myself, “food is not a felony” and before we finished half a roll, our food was already out on silver platters. My Italian sandwich was good and the fresh fruit complimented both our meals perfectly. But we both tried to contain ourselves in preparation for desert. I’ll say it over and over again—the dessert was orgasmic. (Keep in mind how much I loathe that word.) I ordered the crème brulee trio, which was paired with a shortcake cookie and strawberry. The three flavors (chocolate, berry, and original) were served in little cappuccino cups (picture to come). They were mild in taste, but actually tasted great. But nothing could have lived up to what Meme ordered: Chocolate Cobbler. Chocolate cake, syrup, powdered sugar, and homemade vanilla ice cream all encompassed in a iron cast skillet. I love those southern touches. I could have died and gone to heaven (sorry for the cliché) after eating that thing. The cold ice cream and warm chocolate made an amazing combination that we couldn’t pass up. My smile couldn’t have slipped if someone slapped me in the face. It was just that good. No explanation of it will do it justice, so that’s about it for lunch. Except for the fact that all the waiters were cute and the waitresses were pretty. How does that happen? Good job C of O for only having attractive students. That’s a successful selection process. But in all seriousness, the working staff there was pleasant and excited to be there (or so it seemed). They were happy to fulfill every request and you could tell they loved their school, not only from their smiles but also from their stories. P.S. I bought a jar of the apple butter. (: Our only other event for the day was called Island Fire. I was, again, apprehensive about this one. I thought it’d be alright. The description consisted of Polynesian dancers and flamethrowers entertaining you and speaking a bit about their culture. The dances, costumes and songs came from Hawaii, New Zealand, Fiji, Samoa, and other islands beyond by spelling capabilities. At first, I thought the show was pretty good. It seemed a little unprofessional to me, kind of sloppy. But as the show progressed, it got better and better. There were about 9 cast members who actually originated from the islands discussed. There were four men and five women, all of whom displayed smiling faces the whole show. The men were muscular, sexy, and beautiful. And the women, of course, were perfect from their heads to toes. Dark skin, long black hair, and amazing ability? Sign me up! I wish I was from wherever they are. But anyways, my favorite was the main guy. I can’t pronounce or spell his name worth anything, but I know that he was attractive. He had the perfect body, face, hair, and a killer tattoo. I believe it was what the traditional men of his island have and it was so cool. His personality was brilliant as well. He was funny, strong, a good dancer, and pretty much everything a woman wants. So if you’re Samoan, hit me up! The show just kept getting better and better, and it finally peaked at the fire dancing. Two men (mainly the guy I’m in love with, though) twirled around flaming sticks while performing tricks that we in the audience ate right up. He lit his tongue on fire, did acrobatic tricks with the fire, danced with it, and came into the audience to give us a taste. I was frightened. But it was so interesting and exciting and fierce, and you could tell that the cast members were proud of their show. After it was over, we met them and spoke to the men and women. They were kind and friendly, which I really appreciated. So things here in Branson keep looking up! More to come, including some great pictures.

Branson: Day 1

So this whole Southern thing is getting pretty twisted. It’s my first day in Branson, MO, and it’s been quite an adventure already. Keep in mind that I’m with my Meme, my wonderful grandmother who’s decided to spoil me this week by spontaneously taking me to the city of her choosing. I guess she felt bad that my sisters and mom were off on crazy, awesome adventures while I was stuck in Marietta. But to tell you the truth, I was having fun back home. My friends have been invading my house and pool pretty often, which is just the way I like it. And I’ve come to acquire the habit of sleeping ‘til noon after Netflixing it up all night using my sister’s beautiful Mac. Needless to say, I was apprehensive in coming here. I had done my research (as all us Eubanks girls do oh so well) and came to the conclusion that Branson would be a bit like Gatlinburg. Dirty, touristy, kitschy (not in the good way), and everything I try to avoid while traveling. But hey Branson, you’re starting to prove me wrong. After hopping on a quick flight here (probably an hour and a half long at most), Meme and I took a taxi to the hotel, which is just fine. It’s a Best Western on “the Strip.” Well I wouldn’t really compare this to Vegas since there’s no gambling or prostitutes (so far), but I discovered (as of about half an hour ago) that the city does light up at night in a way reminiscent to Sin City. You go, Missouri. But anyways, we arrived at this tiny airport (a pigmy in comparison to Hartsfield-Jackson) that looked rustic and welcoming from the outside. Oh, and by the way, I spotted a superbly hot guy on my flight. Just one of the many reasons why I love to travel. He was blonde and had dimples and could definitely pass for a Hollister model. Yummy. Oh and we checked each other out (well, in my mind we did). Check itttt. So we stepped into the airport, and here we were. It was one big room with a Famous Daves, mini Bass Pro Shops, and it had a mountain lodge feel complete with hunting décor. Cool, a theme airport. So after figuring out that Branson was NOT like Atlanta in that cabs are constantly waiting outside anticipating your arrival, we found a desk to call us a cab. This man with a nice scruffy moustache and a weathered face took us into town. But on the way there, I was pleasantly surprised. The landscape was hilly and winding with carved rocks that reminded me of Nevada. You could see the beautifully green Ozark Mountains from every inch of the highway, and all I really wanted to do was watch what was around me. But of course we had an itinerary to make, lunch to search for, and our room to check into. So we stopped by the front desk, were (in my opinion) brushed off when asking for recommendations, and decided to go (literally) next door for a bite. So far we’ve had really good luck with meals. This steakhouse, Montana Mike’s, served us some mean alfredo. And since I am Caroline Eubanks’ sister, that means I am a tough critic concerning this specific dish. But seriously, it was good. And the sweet tea was just the right amount of sweet—a difficult feat when trying to impress a Georgia girl. So onwards we went to try to pack in everything we wanted to accomplish here. Here we struck gold. The woman at the gift shop here, Kathleen, is a saint. She’s a pro at multi-tasking, sorting out schedules, and encouraging the delightful opportunities available in her city. After 30 minutes of planning and $380 worth of ticket reservations, we were set. So hat’s off to Kathleen for making everything simply perfect. We couldn’t have done this without you. So onwards to our first event, Noah the Musical. It sounded okay to me. And that’s really how it turned out. The building, actually more like the acropolis, that was home to the show was unbelievable. Seriously. I would go there just to walk around and marvel at who the heck could have paid such a large bill for this thing. And the inside is even better. And inside the inside is even better. The stage is magnificent. Coming from an ex-theatre performer, that means something. The theater (more like a coliseum, sorry for the ancient Rome references) holds 3,000 people and even opens up on its sides to reveal an unbelievable set that takes you inside Noah’s ark. Simply mind-blowing. Now the show itself is just eh. The music was cheesy and mostly unnecessary. The acting was way overdone on the females’ part. The costumes were beautiful but quite unrealistic. But the set was orgasmic. Let me just tell you, I hate the word orgasmic. But that’s about the only way I can think of describing it. Please please please Google (or Bing, my preference) Noah the Musical right now. Look at the pictures. You see that stage? Great, well it’s even better than that. Not to mention the fact that the aroma of sugar-roasted nuts encompasses the entire lobby and makes me melt with selfish foodie desires. So yeah, I’d say it’s worth going. Especially if you’re not paying. That’s always a plus. Next, we went to lunch at some barbeque joint. I had a steak and toast and a salad and fries and it was delicious. I loved it. I even gave a shout-out to the cooks in the kitchen. I was feeling iffy about eating there because I hadn’t researched it or gotten personal recommendations about it or any of the stupid crap I usually go through to ensure a good meal. But really, go to Odee’s Restaurant and Barbeque and you’re tummy will be happy. Oh, btw, these two (handsome) brothers who have a show in town came in during dinner telling us to come to their show. I found it funny because I had looked at their website online and everything and then they just came in with their classy western wear on carrying pamphlets and coupons and sexy smiles. Woah, they must be desperate for people to come to their show. I would but I really don’t care enough to hear two guys who think they’re hot stuff singing covers of songs that are on the black list already for being classics that have been wayyyyy overdone. So no thanks, hot 30-something brothers. I think I’ll pass. The last event for the night was going a few miles out to Shepherd of the Hills outdoor theater drama show extravaganza. Never in my life have I met more embarrassing people. Where do they come from? Why do they yell and eat obscene amounts of food, just packing onto their already obese bellies? Why do they have tons of children just adding to the world’s population of unattractive? Ew, kill me. They were gross and smelly and sweaty and not funny. They made me embarrassed to be southern, which is one thing you never want to do. But anyways, the show was surprisingly good. Meme and I were thoroughly concerned as to what we were getting ourselves into when we showed up and saw these characters. But I decided to be upbeat and give it a chance, which (as it usually does) turned out well. The actors weren’t half bad and, with the exception of about two or three main characters, I enjoyed their abilities. The special affects were pretty cool with all the gunshots and fire and multitude of live animals. Hey PETA, why aren’t you busting the butts of the makers of these shows? Anywho, the show kept my attention, was in the middle of nature, had semi-attractive guys around my age riding horses, and actually kept a decent plot line. Bravo! That’s all I really wanted. And you succeeded. So go, Branson! Empress me! Exceed my devastatingly low standards for what your city can be! It’ll be a trip alright. You just wait and see.

Lusting for the Wanderlife

If you look closely, you can see the rainbow at Sullivan's Island.

Like Sammi mentioned, I have sort of set my travel plans for the summer. Plans include a cruise in Croatia in early June, NYC for Travel Blog Exchange, road trip to Boston with the family and a return to Charleston for Hanna's wedding. All this summer. But I may have just added another item on my list. Thailand. Seriously. My mom called me tonight telling me there was an opening on the mission trip to Chiang Mai that she took last year. I would end up going straight to Croatia from there. Part of me says it's crazy and I will be jet lagged as hell, but if I can't take this kind of risk, when can I? The trip is already paid for and I'm dying to go there. So is it worth it? I just don't know. I want to pack as much into this summer as I can because I could have some boring desk job by next year. 

Since Sammi wrote her post, she has been offered a job WWOOFing in Montana. This sounds like exactly like what she was looking for. I wish her the best! 

So tell me. Am I crazy? 

Channeling My Inner Pioneer Woman

And now comes that beloved time in each Eubanks' girl's life: the time in which summer plans are made. Caroline, as you may have read on her other blog, is going to Croatia. Rachel, being only 15, will be limiting her travels to the southeast (or wherever potential college options are). And then there is me. It's been alluded to that I have tons of ideas but can rarely pull them together into an organized plan. This is where I find myself now, naturally. A change of scene is in order. This has been the most eventful year of my life (not always in good ways) and I need some time out in the world to clear my head and re-learn who I am. So what is the best way to do this? Travel, of course. What I want out of a trip:

-A place I've never been

-People I've never met

-Mountains I've never climbed

-Adventures I've never had

-Work I've never done

-A trip that won't drain my savings

Constraints:

-No travel buddy (can be seen as a good thing too)

-I have to be back in time for a wedding in mid june

-Train, Plane, Bus, or Car?

-The nerves of my dear parents

So here's my current ideas. I can either blow all my money on a plane/train ticket, go out west somewhere, Wyoming or Montana or something, stay in a hostel and accept whatever life throws at me. Potentially I would meet college students like myself and tag along for camping trips, mountain ascents, and dinners in local dives. Option two would be to work on a farm through WWOOF (worldwide opportunities on organic farms) and go wherever some crazy person would take me. If I go for this option I would be working long days, learning new skills, and basking in the life I idealize for myself in the future. Yes, I might be channeling my inner "Pioneer Woman" (check out the blog) but farms have always been a soft spot.

So I give it to you. What should I do? Which of these ideas sounds the least crazy or the most practical. Or, if you have another idea throw it towards me. I'm always up for new stunts. Just remember, I can't be stuck inside all day. I need time for personal reflection, and I need new faces with new stories. Thanks.