ATTENTION! The reason I have not divulged the location of the little fishing village is so that you can guess where I am in the world! I have included a clue at the end of this post to help you out, while other clues are in previous posts. The first person to give the correct answer wins a little something! Sound fun? Email your answer to ross_d_n@yahoo.com with ‘Get Lost in The World’ in the subject line. The winner will be contacted by email. Also, you must be 18 years or older and live in the United States, sorry international peeps. The winner must also agree to have their first initial, last name, and where they are from posted. Have fun! Good luck! And of course KEEP READING!

When I decided to take some time off and travel, I had a few places in mind I wanted to visit. After researching multiple travel sites and joining a travel group, I purchased a one way ticket with the idea that I would travel to places that had cheap flights. I would hop from country to county, city to city, if the price was right. Choosing my first stop after England had nothing to due with the price, but with the location. I thought it would be a good place to start. After arriving and meeting other travelers, invariably the question would be asked, “Where are you going next?” It was then, after saying “I don’t know” repeatedly, that I started to really understand what I would have to do to get the type of experience I sought.
From the beginning, I had deemed this my ‘Get Lost in the World’ getaway. I wanted to go to places where I could get up in the morning and go to the local bakery, buy from the local farmer, and get to know the local people. At the same time, I wanted to visit places historically important yet beautiful. In order to truly surrender to the concept ‘Get Lost in the World’, I realized that this was not a getaway but a journey. On the first stop of my journey, I met Senem. Senem and Gianpietro were my awesome, lovely, terrific, wonderful Airbnb hosts. For those who don’t know, Airbnb is a lodging site where people can rent a room, apartment, or home. I will formally introduce Senem, Gianpietro, and where they live in the post to follow. For now, I will tell you the wise words Senem spoke to me. Senem and I spent many nights talking (those who know me know that I can TALK!). And one night Senem said, “The best kind of journey is the one that you don’t plan.” She also said that I must be open to the experiences that await and not be afraid. Honestly, I had heard some of those words before. My dear friend Loryann said something similar before I set off for Bali. When Senem spoke those words, she had a certain look in her eyes, and I just knew she was telling the truth. She wasn’t selling me a fairytale of a perfect getaway. She was merely suggesting a new approach to something I was already doing. I then became curious to see where my journey would take me if I listened to Senem’s advice. Afraid, anxious, nervous, hesitant, are just some words that describe feelings I normally have when stepping out of my comfort zone. I’m pretty sure a few of you reading this can relate. Now this wouldn’t be merely stepping out, but more like a Super Dave stunt! I’m serious. Therefore, I must deal with the aforementioned feelings and more in order to be open, as Senem suggested. Now, I believed that I was already on such a path; it was just a little more structured? So, I hopped off one path and onto the next, not knowing the new path had already started with Senem.

‘Get Lost in the World’
Clue #1: This fishing village is located on the Amalfi coast and is situated between Salerno and Amalfi. It has less than 100 inhabitants.

‘Every person I meet today will be new to me.’ This was the thought I had while sitting in the airport waiting for my flight to board. This would turn out to be the beginning of a long trip. A two plane, 3 bus, and a train trip. All to arrive at a place that I didn’t even know existed until a few days before. I decided, solely due to the location, a little fishing village would be the next place I would go. All I have to do is get there.
As I began to research how I would get to the village, I started to have second, third, fourth, and fifth thoughts. Due to the location, I knew it was going to be an adventure and I didn’t know if I was up for the challenge. After many conversations with myself, I decided that not only was I up for it, I was open to travel to a place not on the ’Top 10 Places to Visit’ list. I will admit that it isn’t far from places on that list, but I believe where there are big gems, little gems aren’t too far away. So, with that in mind, I booked tickets for travel and made lodging accommodations. Fast forward to me sitting in the airport.
The flight portion of my journey, easy breezy. No problems with my connections, nothing. Smooth sailing. Now getting to the train station proved to be a tad difficult. Did I mention that I don’t speak the language? Yes, English and charades, that’s about it! Well, I thought the street signs would point me in the right direction and that was my first misjudgment. After boarding a shuttle bus from the airport, I missed my stop and the bus driver seemed a little annoyed, but not overly. We managed to agree where I was going, him speaking very little English and me nodding or shaking my head. After a brief ride, he stopped, pointed in the direction of the train station and I hesitantly got off the bus. I walked straight, left, right, then proceeded to ask many people to point me in the direction of the train station. A few points later, the train station was in sight. I bought my ticket at a kiosk and waited for the train.
After getting off the train, I then had to find the bus stop. It didn’t help that the train station had some construction so it took some time. With a quick Google search (yes I have an international data plan) it told me where to buy my bus ticket. I bought my ticket and asked the lady where to catch the bus. She simply said, “To the left.” I thought in my head, “Well ma’am, there are a lot of things to the left.” I said nothing. I kindly thanked her and made a left out of the shop. I was searching for something that looked like a bus stop. Anything. After I turned up empty, I returned and asked the lady again. This time there were some important details. Why she didn’t mention them the first time was beyond me. I followed the directions and made it to the bus stop. I get on the bus. The very crowded bus.
While sitting in the back, I realized that this was their city bus. It didn’t matter how crowded it got, the driver stopped at every stop and more and more people got on. As I’m riding along in awe of the absolutely stunning views, I’m wondering about when and how to get off the bus. Before I proceed, I must inform you that the bus stops aren’t clearly marked. You have to know the stop. The bus driver doesn’t announce anything. So what do I do you ask? I whip out my phone and turn on my maps app. I get reception and it states that my town was 26 minutes in the opposite direction. Not 30 seconds later, my host sends me a message stating that I missed the stop. I get off at the next town. Now I’m cooking with grease! I know exactly where I’m going. I buy another bus ticket and wait. I enjoyed watching people as they watched me pass the time.

When I boarded the bus for the second time, I told the driver where I was going in my best accent and he said he knew and would stop the bus for me. As he proceeded to talk through my stop, I looked back and saw the village. I walked up to the driver and told him I needed to get off because I missed my stop. The driver pulled over at the stop in the next village. He looked confused and asked me where I was going. I said the name of the village a second and third time, second misjudgment. Tip: if you don’t speak the language, don’t try to say the name of the village. Maybe that is why my host told me to show him the name. Accepting that my accent and pronunciation of the village was jacked up, I followed directions and showed the next driver the name of the village. I stood right by him, never sitting down.

He stopped the bus in front of the purple gate, I got off and grabbed my luggage. My host was walking toward me. I had never been so happy to see someone I had never laid eyes on. She gave me the best ‘welcome, I’m so sorry you can’t follow directions but you made it’ hug. We laughed and shared a little about ourselves as we walked to my place. I had finally made it. I just hope it was all worth it.

When I decided to travel I knew my first stop would be England. My dear friend Catherine, whom I have introduced in my previous posts, lives in West Yorkshire, in England. To be more precise, she lives in Ilkley. Ilkley is a quaint little English town with plush greenery, grazing cattle, and landscape that I can look at for hours. Like other trips I have taken, I did not have any expectations when I arrived in Ilkley. As I have learned, no expectations is the best way to greet new experiences.

So when Catherine mentioned we would be spending time with her family, I was excited! I absolutely love family time! Not only did I meet Catherine’s mother and father, I also met her sweet niece Sarah. We spent a wonderful afternoon in the city of York. As we walked through the city, Graham, Catherine’s father, acted as our personal tour guide, it was fantastic! The day was great and that night made it even better! That evening I met Catherine’s brother Rich and her very polite nephew Max. We all gathered at Rich’s home to order “take away” and watch rugby. We ordered from a Chinese restaurant. Yes, Ilkley has Chinese, Vietnamese, Italian, and Indian restaurants! This was so cool! Wine in hand, shoes off, settled on the couch surrounded by people who, outside of Catherine, had known me less than 24 hours!
After rugby, Catherine stated that we would be going to her parents house for ‘Sunday Roast.’ Home cooked meal. I’m down.

When we arrived to Catherine’s parents home, we were greeted by her mother who was finishing up dinner. I was handed a glass of wine and shown the sun lounge. The view was incredible! Graham joined me and we were soon greeted by Lisa, Rich’s wife. Shortly thereafter, everyone was sitting in the sun lounge enjoying pate and crostini.

From the direction of Marjorie, Catherine’s mum, we all made our way to the dinning room. At the site of the dining room table, I could feel the tears wanting to make an appearance. At that moment, I was back at my parents home and my sister and I were helping my mother with dinner. In that moment, I felt connected to this family because it was familiar, I could feel the presence of my family.

With each bite of the deliciously prepared meal, I could taste the love in each morsel. From the Yorkshire pudding to the crème brûlée, to the conversations, I sat in amazement yet again at how we as people are more the same than we are different.