Today was a slow day of learning how to live life like a local rather than a tourist. One of the few luxuries of a road trip is taking as much time as you want to explore the places you learn to love. Durango is such a surprising town that really impressed and captivated me. Since my little brother had class today at Fort Lewis College my dad and I decided to explore the cafes in town. We worked for several hours at The Steaming Bean, an adorable cafe full of hip young 20 somethings and brick walls covered in vibrant art. I spent the time writing in my journal and on some postcards I had gathered on the way over to Colorado. It was a great chance to relax and do something normal in a new place. ...

Five days after being on the road we finally decided to get away and get off the main road for some back country driving. Gabe took us out to a place called Spud Lake in the mountains behind Durango. Trusting that our Subaru would get us through, we took to the unpaved rocky mountain road (pun somewhat intended). We drove slowly through extremely rocky terrain spotted with pot holes on a path lined with aspens. Yellow leaves falling from the tall white trees fluttered down from above like butterflies dancing in the wind, littering the roadway with the colors of autumn. ...

This is my Californian confession: I have never experienced a true fall. I have never had the pleasure of being in a location that truly changes with the seasons. This is both a blessing and a curse; I have been lucky enough to live in a moderate, sunny climate for my entire life, but that also means I have never seen the trees transform into pillars of fleeting color. I will admit, one of the many reasons that I decided to take this trip was to travel in the fall and see the fall leaves change as I moved across the country one state at a time. Colorado is the first (hopefully of many) states to come where the once green rolling hills become a sea of vibrant yellows and oranges. ...

I have officially become that weird person wandering around with a little llama fluff ball sticking out of my purse. I have already had numerous conversations with strangers about it; it is a great conversation starter. The first conversation I had was with some very nice janitorial staff at a rest stop who were entirely baffled by Mama the Llama. They hesitantly followed me around the rest stop as I took pictures and finally came up and asked me what in the world it was that I was holding. I told him it was a llama, which then sparked a somewhat circular conversation in which he insistently question me about whether it was a real llama or not no matter how many times I told him no, it was most definitely not a real llama. Aside from the giggles and pointing whenever I am out and about taking pictures with my lovely sidekick it has been quite a lot of fun even if it is hard to remember to always take her with me places. ...

I am already over 800 miles away from home. Today was my first full day of traveling and I had forgotten how baffling it is to suddenly be so far from everything familiar in such a short amount of time. One day and four states later, I have yet to realize that this is actually real and happening. Crash course description of my day: Barstow, Las Vegas, Springdale, Zion National Park, Page — California, Nevada, Arizona and Utah (and then back to Arizona again). ...

One reason I have decided to resurrect my blog is to document my cross country solo road trip. Today I hit the road and won’t find myself back on the West Coast until I have climbed the mountains of Colorado, rolled in the fall leaves of Northern Michigan, put my feet to the pavement of New York City, driven nearly the entire length of the East Coast, let the Atlantic Ocean wash the dirt from my tired feet, sipped a cup of coffee at Cafe Du Monde in New Orleans, and driven all the way back home. In total, I should be gone for about three months. Just me, my Prius (nicknamed PriPri), vast open expanses of road, and any adventure that finds me along the way. ...

I want to begin again. I know I have been gone a long time now but I miss this. I miss the feeling of my fingertips pressed against keys or pushing my pencil to the barren page. I miss having a place to put my words, a place to rest my weary head stirring with mercilessly jumbled thoughts. I miss knowing that I am doing exactly what I was put on this world to do. I have found myself purposeless these last few months, maybe even the last few years of my life and I am the only one to blame. ...

My final day in London was filled with some of my favorite things that I had purposefully saved for last because I had been looking forward to them the most. The first of these things was actually going inside of the Westminster Abbey. I had been inadvertently circling this famous monument since I had first stepped foot in London, but despite being a constant in my time in London, I did not know what sort of treasures lay within the Gothic spires and flying buttresses of this impressive edifice. ...

The day after I returned from York, I took a day trip to Oxford with my gracious host Gavin who was an alumnus and wanted to show me around this world famous university. On a rainy day, interrupted sporadically with moments of blue sky forcing their way through the stubborn rain clouds, we took in the sights of this little city with such a big name. Wandering around every building it was easy to see why this was such a prestigous school with its impressive architecture, incredible location in the adorable town of Oxford, and I am sure the academics are insane but I sadly didn’t get to see any examples of that since a majority of the colleges where closed due to examinations. ...

The entirety of a day lay before me, the whole of a city yet to be explored was my wondrous opportunity, so with feet to the cobblestones that lined these streets I set out to conquer every avenue in York. The town was wondrously fairytale-like with banners of flags draped across courtyards bringing color to the old buildings that appeared on every street corner. I felt like no matter where I wandered there was some mysterious building calling my attention away. With no object except exploration in mind, there is so much to discover in a place such as York because everything is new, yet old at the same time. I think in some small way I loved York deeply because it made me feel like how I felt while in Rome; like anything was possible in a world caught between the old and the new of infinite wonders. ...