The Accursed Mountains are the only direct path between the 2 villages Valbona and Theth, and I had the good luck of being able to hike them, so let me tell you about my experience.

We started the day by eating warm fried bread and fruity jam in our guesthouse. The guesthouse offered a free ride to the trail head. So, after we ate our delicious breakfast, we hopped in the van to go to the trailhead. The ride there was super bumpy. When we got there, it was still an eight-minute walk to the start of our trail, because some vans went further than others. At the trailhead, my mom wanted us to take a family photo, so we all posed with the trail marker in the background

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and then we were off. I carried a day pack with water, snacks and clothes. We left our big bags in another town.

After we had hiked for about two hour, we got to our first stop with benches. There, we ate an apple and some trail mix. There was a nice dog at the stop that my sister and I petted. I learned later that the Accursed Mountains were named because of their harsh, jagged terrain and dark local folklore.

After 4 hours of zigging and zagging uphill, we got to the peak of the mountain, and saw a short path up to the very top. My mom, my sister, and I decided to go up. My dad decided to stay down because he is afraid of heights. When we got to the top, the view was breathtaking

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“Wow,” I said.

“The view is amazing,” said my mom.

Yeah, I thought, it really is.

After the summit we ate our lunch which was packed by our guesthouse. After lunch, it was time to go down the mountain. The way down was very steep, but it was fun to run down with my sister. When we finally got to Theth, we were at the top of the village, and we still had a little while to go to get to our guesthouse. As we walked down, we saw a sign with our guesthouse’s name and the word “Shortcut”.

“Nice,There is a shortcut.” I said.

We decided to take it because everyone was tired of walking and just wanted to lie down. But the shortcut was mostly uphill, and it felt a lot longer than it actually was, given our state. When we finally got to our guesthouse, we had been walking for 6 hours and 45 minutes.

And that was my experience of the Valbona to Theth hike. In my opinion it was a great hike

By early afternoon we would walk home, change into our bathing suits and take a bus to lake Bohinj. We would rent a stand up paddle board and paddle round the lake, or just swim. I would swim in the kelp forest. It felt like an underwater maze of fish and plants. There were parts where the plants would part and make a path though the kelp, just like a corn maze. I would follow the fish and see where they lead me.

Sometimes we would go to these cliffs where people would jump, and we would jump off into the lake.There were 3 places to jump: a low one, a medium. one, and a high one and a rope swing but we did not go the rope swing. I had butterflies looking down at the water it felt like I was a hundred feet up. I jumped off and it felt like I was floating in the air with the wind zipping by me.

As I stopped to look across the lake, I suddenly saw a massive splash on the other shore.

“Wow!” I yelled. Watching the water a bit longer, I realized the splash came from someone jumping off a tall cliff.

“I want to do that,” I said excitedly.

“Yeah, maybe tomorrow,” my mom replied hopefully.

“Okay,” I said.

The next day, jumping off that cliff was all I could think about. As soon as we arrived at the lake, I wanted to go straight to the cliff. The birds chirping were music to my ears, and the sound of people splashing below me was music to my ears.

My dad, my sister, and I rented a paddleboard to paddle to the cliffs. When we arrived, we saw that the only path up was a nearly vertical rock face. A tree leaned over the top with a rope attached to it for climbing. We climbed up the rock and finally reached the top.

“I am going to do it,” I said. From the cliff, the drop looked further than it did from the water below.

“Do you want me to count down?” my dad asked. “No, I got it,” I replied. 10, 9, 8... I counted down in my head. When I hit zero, I jumped.

“Ahhh!” I screamed as I flew through the air. Suddenly, I hit the surface. The cold water felt like 1000 icy nettles piercing my body. I popped out of the water and looked back up at the towering cliffs I had just jumped off.

By the time I climbed back to the top of the rock, my sister had decided to jump too. The hot sun felt warm on my cold body and the excitement of the jump was making my hair stand on end.

“Wait for me!” I called out.

“Okay,” she yelled back.

When I reached her, she jumped.

“Ahhh!” she screamed, hitting the water with a loud splash.

“Woah,” she gasped as she popped back up to the surface.

Cliff jumping in Bohinj Lake was one of my favorite experiences in Slovenia.

The bus from Ljubljana (capital of Slovenia) to Bosnia left the bus station exactly on time. In fact, all of our buses have been early or within a minute of on time this entire trip. We were the only tourists onboard and the kids settled into their seats happily with snacks and devices. They are obsessed with travel days - the longer the better. They get unfettered device access and snacks. They love to spend their allowance on sugary snacks for bus journeys- spending their entire budget in one fell swoop of sugar. And mercifully, unlike the backseat of the car, they don’t fight! Mark and I get to read, talk and doze.

The bus unceremoniously drove through Croatia. The Bosnian border was only the second of six countries that had passport control. So much for a passport full of stamps. Immigration in the Paris airport was a cluster of lines and tired people waiting for three hours. In Bosnia, there was a dedicated bus lane and we were the only bus. Score. The Yogels brought up the rear of the entire immigration line and I stacked our four crisp blue passports through a six inch window. A disembodied female arm grabbed the bundle. The mirrored window blocked me from seeing the rest of the agent. She opened Vita’s passport and I called for Vita to come to the front of the line. But the agent had no interest in matching a person to the passport. She stamped them all and handed them to me wordlessly - we were now in no man’s land between Croatia and Bosnia.

By now the rest of the bus was standing in the crack of shade provided by some governmental building. We took a few steps to the blistering hot sun to the next little booth. I handed the stack to another disembodied arm. This arm appeared to be male, but followed the same wordless process, loudly stamping a random page in each passport.

We joined the other passengers in the scolding, whisperless air, shading our eyes with a one-handed salute. The bus pulled forward and we marched single file back into our seats.

At a stop somewhere in Bosnia that was not Bihac, our destination, the driver walked down the aisle yelling Bihac to us and gesturing for us to make haste. Mark asked a few times “Bihac? Bihac?” and the driver confidently nodded, adding “Taxi, Taxi”, while pointing to a sedan parked nearby. We rushed the kids to pack up, checked their seats for anything left behind, and got our bags from the hold below. The taxi driver helped with our bags and we piled into the sedan. At a previous stop, I noticed that a handful of passengers transferred to a waiting minivan, so I figured this was how they do it in Bosnia. It was a pretty good system considering we were the only passengers traveling to Bihac, the roads were crazy windy and the bus was massive. I tried to talk to the kids about how that experience would be scary if you were alone. They were underwhelmed with the discussion. I hope they will gain travel sense and confidence as we give them tiny responsibilities such as paying the bill when no one speaks English.

The driver spoke no english and Mark tested out a few words in Bosnian. An hour later, we arrived at the Bihac bus station - a flawless delivery.

Kulan Vakuf (KV) was our final destination- a 45 minute drive from Bihac. Online, KV was billed as being a good stop for our active family to explore the UNA national park, billed as the most beautiful park in Bosnia. Prepping for the bus, we quickly realized that KV was much more remote than originally anticipated. We couldn’t rent a bar in Bihac (they were all out) and the bus tables for Bihac ←> KV were contradictory at best. We found a driver on Facebook, named Dinko, who gave a fair price and promised to throw in a ½ liter of his family’s award winning Rajika (local moonshine made from fruit and walnuts). I liked the walnut version and mark liked both.

Sure enough, Dinko was waiting at the bus station for us. We piled into the 4th transport of the day as we’d also taken a bus from Bohinj to Ljubljana early that morning. He drove us to a big grocery store with an ATM to stock up on both money and food. We knew that Bosnia was 99% cash, but we didn’t quite realize that we’d also need to pay for our booking.com cottage in cash, and that KV was pretty much cut off from civilization and food in the form of a barren grocery store and 2 restaurants; one that was so busy, they wouldn’t even let you wait for a table, and the other with varieties of beef dishes and a single grilled veggie.

Dinko gave us a quick and fast education in Bosnian history and state of affairs including that most of the young adults moved abroad to make money. We stopped by his house to pick up a charger and see his kids. In typical fashion, his family lives with his parents (or maybe they built a house next door). The wife has to leave her family. Sigh, damn patriarchy. Dinko was a true Bosnian, a Muslim dad and Serbian mom. His father was a POW during the Bosbnian war when DInko was a toddler. When talking about fishing, Dinko told us that we’d need a license and it costs 10KM a day, so 100 for 10 days. Dinko thought that the licensing guy would probably ask for a small bribe - maybe we pay 30KM for a license, 20KM to him and he gives us a 100KM pass. Just a small bribe, nothing harmful. Everyone wins. Oh, and we don’t need to wear seatbelts- this is BOSNIA, so apparently car accidents hit different. Toto, we’re not in Kansas anymore!

We arrived in KV just as the sun was dipping below the horizon. Dinko went the wrong way down a 1-way road with no signs and and got a talking to from the town mayor in a car going the other direction. In this tiny town of 250 people (4-5000 pre-war), we struggled to find our place. Just as Dinko rang our host, we found the tiny wooden holiday home perched on a hill overlooking the Una River. The older host rode up on his bicycle with a prosthetic leg (no doubt from the Bosnian war) and plenty of Rajika on his breath.

We walked the metal plank and threw our bags into the sweltering non-insulated playhouse of a house and said good-bye to Dinko after he whispered to Mark to call him for ANYTHING. And now we were alone with no one to speak English. Our host had a cool app that he or I could speak into and it would translate and speak aloud in the other language. In 3 seconds, we’d seen all the home features including toilet, 1 room AC, and separate shower with bath on ground level. Mind you, this home is premium in the KV market, a 4 star property with all 5 star reviews. Most importantly, the host showed us the large fridge of “welcome drinks” and massive wood burning oven under the house. The kids were ELATED to see large soda bottles. There was a variety of beer, wine, sparkling water, liquor, homeade Rajika. He wasn’t joking around!

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The rattling hum of that fridge, and the rush of the freezing cold UNA river jumping over small rapids 30 meters away was the backdrop to our Kulan Vakuf holiday. We lazed, swam, canoed, and had a very limited agenda to take a mental break from traveling for a week.

I loved everywhere we went in Budapest. I loved the hustle and bustle of the city, but my favorite part was the waterpark on Margaret Island called Palatinus Strand. When we got there, we immediately saw all the beautiful pools, and awesome slides. Some of the pools were thermal pools; they were giant hot tubs

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My brother, sadly, couldn’t swim because he had a broken arm and his cast couldn’t get wet.:(. My mom and I swam the most. My dad went in the pool but not as much as my mom and me. He stayed with Beau some of the time so Beau wasn’t lonely.

The waterslides were awesome. There was a yellow one which had a straight drop that felt like floating and an orange one that was as fast as a cheetah and at the start it was twisty. My mom didn’t like the orange one but it was my favorite. My mom liked the purple slide the best, the purple slide was the one that had black and rainbow lights, and you rode a tube down it. It was a loopy slide.

There was also a wave pool. Every hour they would make an announcement saying the wave pool was open. Everyone would rush to the wave pool and it was like a full Taylor swift concert in there. The thermal baths had spas in the center with big bubbles that would blow you sky high. They also had normal pools, a sauna, and tons of different food stands to choose from. At lunchtime at the waterpark, we got food from an array of different food stands. I ended up getting yummy crispy chicken and fries and a slushy that was an explosion of sugary fruit in my mouth.

I loved the waterpark so much! After the waterpark, we rented an awesome golf cart and my brother and I got to drive. It was crazy. My parents said I was a really good driver:) After that we mainly just walked around the city and looked at cool things. Overall I loved Budapest and I would love to go back again!🦶🏼🥰🦶🏼🦶🏼🦶

Imagine a lush green land where misty clouds cling to the soaring mountains in the cool morning air. A country where roughly 2 million people live in architecturally interesting modern houses with prolific gardens in charming villages connected by walking paths and roads that are far too thin for 2 cars traveling in opposite directions. Imagine crystal clear lakes and rushing rivers in deeply carved sheer-walled rocky gorges. Imagine whimsically painted rocks at every corner, chakra mediations carved in stone, sculptures of mythical beings, and miniature fairy lands with well constructed tiny homes, religious deities, and farm animals etched into high mountain trails next to wooden benches for weary hikers. Imagine fairies, pixies, and leprechauns living their best lives.

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Now add authentic wood fired Italian pizza, fantastic wine for $2 euros a glass, and a peace that settles into your soul.

Hello Slovenia.

Based on dear friends’ travels, we had high hopes for Slovenia, and it exceeded expectations by a landslide. Our first stop was in Tolmin in an AMAZING home exchange. Perched above a gorgeous lake fed by the Soca river, the valley’s lush green meadows give way to endless forested mountains, a breathtaking view at every hour. Our home exchange was a modern vacation house that will eventually be 2 units. In true European fashion, the stairwell is barely large enough for us skinny people to walk up single-file and there is no hand rail, but the lights are super cool. The minimalist style is uber-fashionable Ikea. Ikea has furnished every Home Exchange we’ve been fortunate enough to stay in.

Yesterday we had an epic hike - 7 miles and 135 stories and saw zero people on the way up. We scaled the mountain across the lake from our house rewarded by an epic viewpoint. My legs were absolute jelly on the way down and we rewarded everyone with delicious gelato in town when we finished. Something you need to eat dessert first.

In the capital, Ljubljana, Beau and I spent a day at the hospital getting his cast removed. Only hospitals have the oscillating saw required to remove plaster so the endeavor took 5 hours to get through the Emergency Room. Interestingly, the majority of patients were elderly with face lacerations and broken noses. They must have trouble navigating the crazy stairwells!

1 night in Italy and 2 more Slovenians stop to go before Bosnia!

As I was cruising down the paved path, my mom suddenly screamed, “Watch out!”

“I know, I got this,” I responded.

We drove around the pedestrian trails surrounded by beautiful flowers that were dancing in the wind. The entire time I was behind the wheel, my parents were terrified that we were going to crash into a toddler. At one point, I even took my hands completely off the steering wheel.

“DON’T DO THAT!” my Dad yelled.

“Ok, ok,” I said. But I did not see what the problem was with me doing that so i did it again.

We all took turns driving that day except my mom who was apparently too stressed out. It was my very first time driving a golf cart, and I had a lot of fun

. Later that day, I tried a chimney cake, which was filled with ice cream and Nutella.

Another interesting experience in Budapest was visiting the Shoes on the Danube Bank memorial. The iron shoes represent the Holocaust victims who were forced to take off their shoes before being shot at the edge of the water, and falling into the Danube River. These were just a few of the incredible things we saw and did during our trip.

Budapest was a great place to visit. We took a river cruise and I had so much fun. If I could bring one thing back with me to North Carolina, it would be the grand castles and massive statues because we don’t have any of those back home.

All in all, Budapest is an amazing destination, and you should definitely visit if you ever get the chance!

I define a D1 crashout as any display of “chronic anger”—meaning one of us gets pissed and stays that way for an hour or more—or any moment where a family member completely loses their shit and suffers a massive meltdown. It’s a miserable experience for everyone involved and does absolutely nothing to enhance our trip.

I’ve struggled with my own anger issues since childhood, and unfortunately, I sometimes see that same spark reflected in my family. Dana and Beau both have what you might call a “short fuse,” and even Vita’s usually sunny disposition is occasionally obscured by dark clouds that boom thunder and flash lightning at the rest of us.

Over the years, I’ve tried a number of methods to deal with anger, with varying degrees of success.

The first method is one I’ve been perfecting since I was a child. I call it the “take it out on the world around you” technique. Sometimes it has even involved punching, throwing, or smashing inanimate objects. When I was around ten years old, my mom bought me something called the “Anger Banger”—a device so obscure I can’t find a single trace of it on the internet. It consisted of a small plastic box with a foam pad inside. The idea was simple: when you got mad, you opened the box and slammed your fist repeatedly onto the pad to release your rage.

The flaw in the design was that the pad was barely big enough for my ten-year-old fist. I frequently ended up smashing my knuckles against the sharp plastic edge instead. A few repetitions of this would enrage me even further until, in a total fit, I’d hurl the stupid box against the nearest wall.

Another time, after accidentally slamming my fingers in the front door, my ensuing rage lasted for hours. I stalked around the house, overturning furniture and cursing at my babysitter. When my mom came home and demanded an apology, I gave her the same treatment. The episode culminated in me flinging myself into an armchair and kicking wildly at her midsection. Mom didn’t take that well. Fortunately for her, there was a basket of kindling nearby. I’m pretty sure that was the only time my mother actually beat me with a stick—though I’m sure there were plenty of other times she contemplated it. (And thanks to the thinness of the kindling, she didn’t even violate the old “rule of thumb.”)

As for my adult life? Dana has a hilarious story she loves to tell about kicking me out of her car after I, in a fit of rage over whatever argument we were having, chucked a cupcake out the window of the moving vehicle. Ask her about it sometime; she’ll happily supply the details.

We’ve been on the road now for over a month, and as I mentioned, there have been plenty of familial crashouts. But there have also been many long—like, really long—hikes, not to mention endless rides on planes, trains, and automobiles (also buses). All that transit has provided ample time for contemplation. I’ve been able to think deeply about what my anger actually feels like, and how I’m handling it.

From decades of experience, I’ve concluded that the “take it out on your family” method just doesn’t work. Neither does swallowing it down and pretending it isn’t there—that only builds pressure until a massive explosion reverts me right back to method one. And the counter resets to zero.

Instead, I’ve been trying a technique that works—but only when I truly practice it. It involves allowing the emotion to exist without reacting to it. It’s hard work, and sometimes I’m not entirely sure whether I’m actually sitting with my anger or just swallowing it. But when it works, it becomes a fascinating process.

I’ve walked many a mile during this trip while sitting with anger. What I’ve observed is that it often feels like a heavy weight resting inside my chest. Rather than forcing that weight down, I try to envision a river of energy flowing through me, running directly around the weight and caressing it with gentle force.

We recently did a cave hike in Slovenia that perfectly demonstrated this process where the quiet power of water is involved. Over millennia, a river can carve a gorge miles deep, working its way through micro-cracks to form a massive system of stunningly beautiful caverns. It doesn’t happen overnight, and it doesn’t happen with crushing force. The water simply flows, patiently finding a way through. Given even the smallest crack, water works its magic—transforming impervious rock into smooth stone, eventually wearing it down to pebbles and dust.

I imagine that same process happening to the heavy weight in my chest. I envision the river running around my anger as the force of my own self-love. Eventually, water finds a way, and the rage dissolves under its gentle persistence.

Other times, my anger behaves more like fire. If I try to release it by venting on others or smashing objects, I’m just giving it fuel; it spreads and grows. But douse it with that same self-love, and it has no choice but to eventually be quenched.

It’s not a perfect system, and I fail often. But I’m not a perfect person, nor do I need to be. Every time I fall down, I just have to forgive myself (just as I hope my family forgives me for my crashouts) and try again.

Eventually, water finds a way. So, as Bruce Lee famously advised: “Be water, my friend.”

Our first night felt super-sketchy. After landing at the airport after midnight, our apartment was nearly impossible to find, pitch dark, and felt questionable at best. We also didn’t know how to enter the address into Bolt (a Balkan Uber) so the driver was confused too. As is usually the case in travel, the area and the apartment looked much better in daylight. But a 1 night stop in slow travel is more of a pain than anything. Learning : Take the train or bus in the middle of the night to get the final destination.

Our Home Exchange in Brasov was a delightful brand new apartment 10 minute walk to the city over one large hill/mountain. There was a large park and playground near the apartment and a big food court in a small mall anchored by a grocery store. Our host said “it is more than comfort food” and google reviews claimed that food court had the “best pizza in Romania’. The food was really good, especially the pizza, and we ate there more often than anywhere else. Mall rats in Romania.

Mark was anxious to try Romanian food but lost interest after a few heavy, meat filled lunches. I had a fabulous ground pork-stuffed pepper but otherwise stick to Italian food. Driving was insane (see Mark’s post) and I white knuckled it in the car through endless roundabouts, bracing for impact that luckily never came.

The mountains were absolutely stunning - graggy stone peaks meeting rolling pastures full of sheep next to dense forested slopes. One trail had slippery but magical ladders and swinging suspension bridges over a rock-filled river. After an early start and breathtaking views on the way there, we were alone on the trail, which made Mark insanely nervous because he couldn’t buy bear spray anywhere so his shrill whistle was the soundtrack to our hike. Surprisingly, at the end of the “instagramable hike”, the lake was murky, there were a few houses and snack shops (closed) and a hydro-power plant! The waterfall ran underneath a building for the powerplant.

Speaking of bears, apparently 110 bears live in the foothills of Brasov. Brasov has a bear alert system like our Amber alert. One night we got a bear alert that a bear was spotted on our street - and that we should shelter in place. We spotted a large cub at the very end of the Transfăgărășan highway, where bears are typically spotted all over the place. On July 1st, an Italian motorcyclist earned a Darwin award posthumously for feeding a bear cub to get close up selfies. Momma bear was NOT impressed.

Bonus video - the self washing bathroom. This thing washed itself after every use. Not only the toilet - the ENTIRE bathroom!

Doubler Bonus : Sunflower Fields that I never grew tired of capturing.

“I want to go on those,” said my sister.

“Me too,” I said.

Our parents also wanted to go on the cable car so we could see the city from the big Hollywood-type Brasov sign we had seen on the train to Brasov. So our parents bought tickets and we went up the cable car. I observed how many houses and little shops we could see from the top of the mountain. After we got to the top of the mountain, we walked for 10 minutes to the big Brasov sign. The city below looked amazing. I could see all the light from all the shops and houses. I stood there in awe for a few seconds and then it was time to hike down the mountain to the city.

The hike down the mountain was very fun. My sister and I took a few steep short cuts too and it did not take long before we reached the bottom. We looked up to the giant sign.

“Wow”, I said, “we were just up there”.

That hike was just one of the amazing things we did in Romania.

Romania was a great place to visit. It was very mountainous but had a lot of fun shops to visit in town. One of my favorite shops was a grocery store called Penny’s that was next to our home exchange. It had very cheap treats. There was also a food hall near our house that had very good pizza and fresh poke bowls.

Overall Romania was a very fun place to visit. If you ever have the chance to go, you should go.

And that’s how my day started in Brasov. I get to the city and start roaming it. As I look around I see teens wearing bright and colorful styles, each one different from the rest. I climb up a long flight of stairs to the white tower overlooking the city. As I marvel at the tower I observe all the local teens hanging out.

As I stand looking at the tower I think about how pretty Braşov is and I realize how cold it is compared to Paris. I look at all the kids playing football (soccer) then I look up at the mountains and see how beautiful they are.

As I walk back down the stairs I get in the rental car and we drive home. I see many beautiful streets and buildings making it feel like a little whimsical city. When I finally get home I get ready for bed. As I am getting ready for bed I think about what an amazing day it’s been, how good the food was, how vibrant everyone’s style was, and how pretty the land was. As I get in bed I prepare for another day of adventure in Braşov.

• Paris vs Romania

• Minute 8:30 is a great story about the kids being chased out of a grocery store.

• Minute 9:30 Mark & Dana weigh in on together time

• Minute 10:30 Dana’s favorite way to travel: wander !

• Minute 11:45 another run in with Romania shop keepers

Paris, je t’aime! Although it was a harsh first stop, with all the crowds, three hours in customs, and jet lag, we had some fun moments…and some fighting. Siblings do love to fight anywhere, anytime

Once I was acclimated, I observed that Paris operates the way cities should. People relax in cafés at all hours, enjoying each other’s company. Daily shopping at specialty vendors brought joy. The parks were full of families kicking a soccer ball and playing together on the weekend, while others ate pastries on plentiful benches. The pastries were all that and a bag of flour. It was so hard to choose only one, so we often got a few extra to share. I discovered the amazing Hugo Spritz with St-Germain. Parisians are all about the spritzes.

Vita lost a tooth in front of the Venus de Milo at the Louvre. I gawked at Van Gogh paintings with far too many other people at the Musée d’Orsay. But my favorite part was walking. I love walking aimlessly and discovering the pulse of a city. My favorite days in SF were the spontaneous walks from the Mission to the Marina, finding all sorts of treasures along the way.

In Paris, we found a massive vintage market, and Beau dug through crates looking for forgotten sports cards. Vita loved the jewelry, and I loved the sunshine and the essence of it all. While the Eiffel Tower was certainly amazing, sparkling at night during our cruise on the Seine, watching France win a World Cup game is what I’ll remember most. The crowds spilled out of the bars outside our apartment at 1 a.m., watching the game in the dense heat, cigarettes in hand. Seeing the kids’ faces as they cheered way past their bedtime was delightful.

Needless to say, Parisians are ridiculously cool. Every boutique had masterpieces in the window, and although styles ranged from prom to goth to Sex and the City at every turn, everyone looked comfortable in their own skin. On a surface level, it looked like diverse cultures got along well.

My French from freshman year of college was so deep in the archives that it kept coming out as Spanish. The shopkeepers appreciated the kids’ efforts to order ice cream and treats in French. They will do anything for a sugary treat.

I can definitely imagine spending a few months in Paris in the distant future. I’ll be back!

Let me begin by introducing you to our ride. The Opel Corsa, aka Ol’ Bessie here is a wonder of the European roadways. She’s packing 75 horses under the hood with a 5-speed manual shift gearbox and looking fresh in burnt orange. If I’m not mistaken, these may be the same specs as a standard ride-on lawnmower back in the good old USofA. Not quite a circus-worthy clown car but she comes close. I mean, we’re not big people but after a couple of hours behind the wheel I can barely feel my legs. Rain drums on the rooftop with the acoustic signature of a tin can. Passing other vehicles is a nightmare worse than any vampire film and I avoid it except in the most dire of circumstances (like when we’re stuck behind a massive tractor or perhaps a horse drawn, wooden cart).

Now let’s talk about the Romanian roadways and their many, many drivers. The day I first met Ol’ Bessie I just hopped in and drove back to the city from the airport. I was a little worried at first since it’s been about 12 years since I’ve driven a stick but I quickly discovered that it’s just like riding a bike - you don’t forget how to do it. Everything goes pretty smoothly but I figure a quick search of the internet for some helpful advice on the Romanian rules of the road is in order before undertaking a longer journey. I quickly encounter this reddit thread which provides some great advice including:

“Don’t do anything illegal.”

and

“Don’t go more than 50kph above the speed limit”.

also

“Just don’t do anything stupid and you will be fine.”

OK, but as I dig deeper I discover this:

“Romania has the most road deaths per capita in the EU. I mean when it comes to ‘shittiest countries in the EU’ competitions, Bulgaria usually beats us, but not here.”

And last but not least, there’s this absolute gem:

“When driving on a two lane road, be on your toes when you see a column of cars from the oncoming direction. You never know when some retard is going to pop up to do an overtaking. If that happens, slow down and keep as much to the right as possible. Sound your horn, give him the finger and shout ‘să-ți iau neamu’ în pulă!’ for added bonus.”

Reddit advice notwithstanding, a first hand study of the other vehicles around me is necessary and quickly unveils an interesting dichotomy. The city streets of Brasov appear to be pure organized chaos. This is a city of about 250k inhabitants and at any given moment about 75% of them appear to be on the road in one type of vehicle or another. The streets feel about as packed as midtown Manhattan during rush hour.

Brasov also appears to have the world’s highest number of traffic circles per capita. I still have no idea how they’re supposed to work. Picture this - you come to a roundabout with at least 3 separate entry points, cars are backed up on every side and there are at least 3 separate lanes within the circle. OK, there’s a huge “yield” symbol painted on the pavement at the entrance so it’s safe to assume that the vehicles in the circle have the right of way but beyond that nothing is obvious to me. Like, who the hell has priority to exit vs continue in the circle? For example, what do you do if you’re in one of the two inner circles and need to exit but the car in the outer circle decides to go around again? Good luck keeping track of which lane you’re supposed to land in while exiting btw. Is it my imagination or is this a Mad Max style free for all? Does anyone even know the answer? A google search sure didn’t turn up any useful information. At one point Dana just looks at me and says, “I have no idea how you’re doing what you’re doing”. Tbh, that makes two of us. I’m just going with the flow and hoping for the best (and if that’s not an apt metaphor for my life I don’t know what is).

The crazy part, in the city 90% of drivers are on their best behavior. They’re courteous, stopping for pedestrians at crosswalks and allowing other drivers in and out of the jammed up lanes and intersections. In fact I’ve only been honked at once in the week we’ve been here and it was while negotiating an absolutely packed traffic circle during a downpour.

When you leave the city, however, the gloves come off…

The first time I make our way out of the city, heading for the mountains I breath an audible sigh of relief. Finally free from the congested terror of the traffic circles, I figure it should be easy going. Boy am I wrong. Hitting the open road in Romania is not in any way comparable to the US. There’s no I-40 equivalent, at least not in the mountains of Transylvania. Instead you have a collection of two lane roads, stretching for hundreds of kilometers with nothing between you and the lines of traffic going in the opposite direction except a painted white line and the occasional construction crew. Also there’s no consistent speed of traffic to flow with. What the hell even is the speed limit? I sure don’t know and it seems neither does google maps. The same collection of vehicles from the city are now joined by long haul semis, enormous tour buses, packs of Italian motorcyclists with the occasional horse drawn cart or massive sheep dog lounging in the middle of the road thrown in just for fun. Oh and don’t forget about the bears lounging roadside in the mountain passes. But more on them in a moment.

I now better understand what that redditor was talking about with the oncoming drivers attempting to pass. One moment I’m cruising along, trying to keep an eye on the epic mountain scenery and the other on the road when suddenly there’s a local going about 3x the speed of the surrounding traffic, barreling at us head on. Look to the shoulder alongside the road for an escape route, you say? No chance. There’s nothing there except a low guard rail between us and a massive drop off the side of a cliff or maybe a concrete ditch deep enough to swallow us without a trace. I don’t like my options but I’ve learned to do as reddit advised - when I see an oncoming line of vehicles I watch for the inevitable passer and I slow down, inching as far to the right as possible. Of course the cars behind us don’t like that very much. What they do like is to get within inches of our rear bumper just waiting for their chance to go roaring past. I’d slow down and let them go but I’m sure they’re gonna rear end us and send Ol’ Bessie hurtling into the aforementioned ditch. It seems impossible to drive defensively enough. I just assume that every single other driver on the road is going to do the most dangerous thing imaginable at any moment and that way at least I’m not surprised when they do.

Then suddenly we approach a town and finally there’s a speed limit posted but does anyone else seem to care? Not a chance. You go from 100km/hr+ and suddenly have to downshift to 70, then 50 then 30 when going through the town but the added rules just increase the chaos. Also, did I mention the mountains? The Carpathians are no joke. I’m sure it’s great fun in one of those fancy BMWs that are constantly zooming past but the endless up and down coupled with 180 degree hairpin turns really put Ol’ Bessie, and my ability to see out the tiny windshield, to the test. Also, don’t forget about the bears. This ain’t North Cackalacky and their fur isn’t black. These are brown bears which are closely related to grizzlies and full grown they look like they weigh about twice as much as our ride. Ditto for the cows whose horns look like they could skewer us right through the doors if they wanted to.

Sounds like fun, eh? Well, it is! Most of the time, anyway. Sitting in bumper-to-bumper traffic for yet another 30-minute road maintenance delay while Beau and Vita wage war in the back seat isn’t exactly a dream. But cautiously glancing out of the miniscule windshield to take in the towering peaks of the Carpathians (while keeping an eye out for the next car-killing pothole), I can’t help but smile. It’s chaotic, unpredictable and absolutely stunning. Driving here might put my nerves—and Ol’ Bessie’s tiny engine—to the test, but I wouldn’t trade the ride for anything. We’re not just surviving the experience, we’re thriving, exploring and definitely keeping our eyes peeled for the next roadside bear.

After eating a delicious cat shaped donut fresh out of the oven I go to the Arc de Triumph. I climb 284 steps which feels like 20. When I get to the top I am met with a spectacular view of Paris. Finally after a long day I wait in line for hours for a cruise on the seine. When I am on the cruise I see the Eiffel Tower during a sparkle show and the Louvre and many beautiful lights.

Overall Paris is amazing and I love it and strongly recommend it.

I rate it 4.5 stars out of 5 because the only down side is how expensive it is.

vita

It was a starry Paris night and the Eiffel tower was sparkling in the moonlight. We were coasting through the water of the river Seine on a wonderful tour boat. Then suddenly the eiffel tower lit up. We all gasped in shock and took out our phones to quickly record. That was just one of the amazing things I did in Paris.

Paris was a great place to visit. If you ever have the chance to go you should seize the opportunity. One thing in Paris that I loved and would bring to North Carolina is all the small shops, you could not walk 10 feet without seeing a shop. For example there were many boulangeries full of delicious pastries, and high end boutiques with fancy clothes. There were also street vendors selling all sorts of things like jewelry and antiques. I could tell that soccer was the most popular sport in Paris. As soon as I got there I saw many kids my age playing soccer in fenced in areas that had soccer nets and basketball hoops. The only thing I did not like about Paris was that everything was very expensive.

As we came to the end of the cruise I saw fireworks in the distance and felt sad that we would be leaving the next day. My recommendation is to stay for as long as you can because Paris is a wonderful place to visit.

-Beau

I can’t wait to see how the kids learn and change over the year. I heard from a friend at the tail end of their Worldschooling year, that their similarly aged kids were navigating the subways in Japan solo after a year gaining confidence. We are so very far from that, but I’m imagining a world where we will get there.

This time, logistics were more challenging. We own a home, we have an amazing community, the kids are engrained in wonderful friends and local life in NC, but we knew that this year would forever change the kids trajectory in life. And if there is one thing I know as a cancer survivor, tomorrow isn’t promised so we need to go TODAY.

In December I started working on planning. With the help of ChatGPT, I created an itinerary for the Balkans in the summer (places we’d never been), followed by Sri Lanka for surfing (also net new), then 2027 in Asia, our favorite area of the world. We knew if we started in Asia, we’d never make it anywhere else. Since the summer is high season, I booked, cancelled, and booked accommodations for the summer with a mix of HomeExchange.com (for 250 extra points, use our referral code dana-c64a4), and apartments on various platforms. I organized plane, train, and bus tickets, documented top attractions and created a doc so large that google wouldn’t let me add any more tabs. I tried to simplify the plan to move around less without disrupting all the following plans and end up with an itinerary that is exhausting just to look at. We will enjoy staying in Sri Lanka for over 2 months after all this travel!

Back to the to-do list. With planning in flight, our home was the next huge item. We were lucky enough to find a great family from Austin to rent our home. We installed hardwood floors upstairs, painted bedrooms and offices bright colors, deep cleaned, repaired outdoor stairs, refinished a deck, scrubbed walls, repainted baseboards, touched up holes, and more. The house looks better than it did when we bought it! We piled all of our personal belonging into the bonus room and left the furniture for our tenants to enjoy. House prep was definitely the biggest component of trip prep and the final couple of weeks were only possible because B & V were at Oma and Opa Camp. Huge Thanks you to Mark’s Parents who will meet us in Sri Lanka too!

The non-stop decision-making for every little thing was an exhausting death by a thousand paper cuts. Will the tenants want these bowls? Will the kids want this toy when we come home? Which hiking shoes fit better? Do I need 3 or 4 hiking shirts? And on and on and on and on. I’m happy to report that Mark was more insane than me on the analysis-paralysis side of packing. He ordered a new backpack a few days before left, tried to cancel it because he changed his mind, then ended up loving it and bringing it on the trip. He had already bought and returned it months ago. I flip-flopped between 2 pairs of hiking trainers for a month. Beau didn’t want to try on any shoes and Vita wanted to buy every quick-dry shirt in Old Navy. We whittled down a packing list so everyone would take one large pack (still carry-on) and a day-pack. We scored kids packs on our local Buy Nothing Group and filled them with packing cubes of meds, tech, and quick dry dark clothing.

We also squeezed in Vita’s 5th grade graduation and a few amazing going away parties too. Miraculously, we were ready on July 1st for our departure.

We made our first attempt in Colombia in 2016 after leaving San Francisco for good. Beau went to an amazing full-time preschool in town with farm animals, a pool, and transportation for $100/month. Vita spoke many of her first words in Spanish. We made local friends who took us on road trips, and saw the magic of Medellin at Christmas. Alas, Colombia was short-lived thanks to my breast cancer diagnosis. But the timing for a life-changing diagnosis could not have been better: we were still able to buy health insurance through work, and we created a beautiful life and community in NC.

Now Beau and Vita are older, moodier, and need a lot more education. At least they will remember this trip, even if they fight the entire time. 2026-2027 is the only year both kids will be in middle school so the stars aligned for our REAL worldschooling year.

First stop… Paris. But first, PREP!

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21 days until GO time → July 1st 2026

Stress levels are at an all time high. The to-do lists rule our days and nights. Sleep is fleeting. Decision-making fatigue is crushing.

But, we are doing it!! And I know that it will all worth it when I can finally take a deep breath on the plane on July 1.

Where are you actually going?

Here is the rough itinerary. July, August, Nov and Dec and planned in pen. The rest is in pencil. Beau picked Paris (to eat) and Vita picked Japan (for anime culture). Dana picked the Balkans because I’ve never even thought of them before. Mark picked Sri Lanka for surf. South East Asia is a no brainer. Both Mark and Dana LOVE it there for surf, diving, and laid back beach life.

What about school?

They will homeschool, following the NC standards. Math is through a NC virtual homeschool. We will focus on local history, reading, writing, thinking, exploring. There will also be ‘hippie-school’ in a few places including Sri Lanka, where they will join international students for project based and experiential learning.

What will you write about?

Good question! We envision the kids have their own sections of this communication. Having traveled long term in the past, I’ve seen the huge value of staying engaged with friends at home. We will miss out friends and community so much and want to ease our transition back home in a year and have things to talk about without retelling stories. Also, the kids want to ensure they aren’t forgotten. So PLEASE, stay in touch!

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