Month: October 2015

Sleepy in Seattle

Seattle is one of my favorite U.S. cities ever.

My favorite sushi restaurant is there, you can go from sea level to 14,000ft up a mountain in the same day and best part: one of my best friends in the whole universe lives there!

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Enter: Blake Perseus R-Dizzle! He’s about to become a big fancy pilot. He’s lived like everywhere in the world and jumps off cliffs for fun and is into some really weird shit. We have the best kind of friendship. Mostly because of our mutual love for weird shit.

Exactly nine days before I packed my truck and drove 918 miles to Colorado, Blake moved to Seattle to finish up his flight instructor hours so he can officially become a pilot. Even though I still kind of hate him for leaving, I have a reason to go out to Seattle and a place to stay.

SpaceNeedle

Not surprisingly, some of the weirdest moments of my life happen with Blake. One of the first times I ever hung out with him, we went to some, uh, specialty shops in Denver to look for some items for his very specific interests. I know that’s annoyingly vague, but he will know what I’m talking about and my mom reads this and she doesn’t need details.

There’s the one time we got super drunk at a bowling alley in the middle of a Colorado blizzard, jumped a fence at a neighboring apartment complex and hopped in the hot tub to warm up (#DrunkLogic). Then I couldn’t get my jeans back on because jeans + wet skin = so much nope, so I ran down the middle of the street with no pants on, in a couple feet of snow, in a blizzard (speaking of things my mother doesn’t need to know, ha!).

There’s the time I went to a wedding with his family in his homeland of Long Island, NY and we drank endless amounts of Jameson chased with Bud Light (I just vomited in my mouth), chugged a bottle of champagne before the wedding/church and I almost was eaten by a wolf spider next to the pool, nursing a hangover from the above bad decisions. While eating a bacon, egg, cheese, salt, pepper, ketchup sandwich. What?

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One day while sitting at my desk, I decided I wanted my favorite Seattle sushi, I missed the shit outta Blake and I had some Delta miles sitting around. So, I pitched the greatest idea ever: Seattle. Food. Tour. I got my big hungry ass on a plane and spent the next 38.5-hours eating, laughing, being touristy and eating. And eating.

We went to Pike Place, naturally, and spent the day wandering around downtown. We ate donuts, ovaltine lattes, sushi, tacos, fish and chips, burgers, and molten lava cakes with boozy milkshakes. Oh god, the lava cake. The peanut butter, caramel & whiskey milkshake. Be still my sugar packed heart.
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We also went to the Space Needle and rode the gigantic tourist trap Seattle Great Wheel (hi, I was terrified) and took a nap. The nap might have been the best part of the whole weekend – both of us don’t take (and can’t take) much down time in our day-to-day lives, so when we’re together we spend all of our time just forgetting the universe exists and giggling about nothing. And eating. And watching Sriracha documentaries. And napping for at least 3-4 hours at a time.

SeattleTourists

See you soon, B. Perseus!

Where we ate:

Top Pot Doughnuts

Los Agaves Tacos

Jack’s Fish Spot

Hot Cakes Molten Chocolate Cakery

Umi Sake House

The Gourmet Burger Shop

How to (Almost) Get Left in Amsterdam

Oh, Sweden. What a delightfully weird little place you are.

I tried caviar paste out of a tube. I ate green, whiskey-scented pastries called “dammsugare”, that literally translate in English to vacuum cleaner.

I drank (five) $19USD mojitos in a yacht club that was half rum lounge, half baby-boomer dance party run by a Swedish-fitness-celebrity-turned-DJ.

Stenungsbaden Yacht Club

Stenungsbaden Yacht Club

On our last day, we wandered around Gothenburg. We went to the art museum, did some shopping and enjoyed some of the best desserts and mochas at a French patisserie.

Le Pain Francais - Gothenburg, Sweden

Le Pain Francais – Gothenburg, Sweden

I tried really, really hard to miss all of my flights back to the good old U. S. of A. (Read: sarcasm, I had a very rough day of traveling.)

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Final approach into Amsterdam

We got lost on the way to the airport in Sweden. In Amsterdam, I waited for my friend to come back from the bathroom (like he asked me to do) and he ended up going to the gate and not telling me, so I barely made it to the gate before the closed the doors (four minutes and a sprint to be exact). In Minnesota, I had 57 very short minutes to deplane, clear immigration & customs, exit the Delta terminal, re-enter the main terminal for my Frontier connection, go through security, get to my gate and board for Colorado. I learned that it’s deemed “illegal” to book an international connecting flight with less than one hour – thanks sassy Delta flight attendant, I realize how ill planned this decision was.

I did end up making it back to Denver. My nerves were shot, I had been up for almost 36 hours (which is a really long time for me) and the third plane of my 5,500+ mile trans-Atlantic trip was full of really drunk early 20-somethings.

When I was picked up, the first thing I said was “Hi, thanks for getting me, I missed you! But hey, can we stop by the liquor store on our way home? I need like nineteen beers rightfuckingnow.”

Mjölkeviken (Milk Bay)

I’m a city girl.

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I like skyscrapers, bright lights and commotion. I leave my windows open because the sounds of muffled drunken laughter and car horns traveling up the sides of my building help me fall asleep. Being no more than fifteen minutes from anything I could possible need – groceries, clothing stores, auto repair, emergency center – is comforting to me.

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Being in the middle of Swedish countryside is out of my element.

The winding dirt roads lead into lush, vibrant green rolling hills hiding small villages and shops. There are animal and produce farms tucked away a couple kilometers off the main road. In the morning, the fog lifts slowly over the roofs of sleepy cottages sprinkled throughout the villages to reveal the brightly painted houses each adorned with a Swedish flag out front.

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The water in the Mjölkeviken is so still and untouched, it looks like glass. Even a whisper echoes off the rocky cliffs concealing the bay, which is also surrounded by forests

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It’s about a thirty-minute drive into the next biggest town, Kungälv. It’s an hour to a major city, Göteborg. It’s so peaceful here that it puts me slightly on edge.  I look out the kitchen windows and there is nothing but darkness, not even lights from the neighboring cottages. There is no noise outside except for Minerva (McGonnagall, duh) the cat meowing to be let inside.

I hear wine is great at calming nerves. Did I mention it’s $14USD for two bottles of decent wine? Perhaps the silence won’t keep me up too late tonight after all.

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Hej från sverige! (Sweden)

It’s a good week to be me #NotSoSubtleBrag.

I’ve checked another continent off the bucket list: Europe! Total: 4 out of 7. Remaining: Africa, Asia and Antarctica.

I’m sitting in the sunroom of quaint red house with a Swedish flag out front. I’m on an island, off the west coast of Sweden, in the countryside. Are you confused? Good, me too. We’re in Tjörn, about an hour north of Gothenburg.

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I’m nine hours ahead of Mountain Standard Time in the U.S., so quite literally on the opposite schedule of everyone back home. Between the time difference and the limited wifi available, I only have a couple hour window of communication with everyone back home. Yes I’m alive, yes Sweden is amazing and yes I am probably coming back. Probably.

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I have had so much coffee the last few days here in Sweden. I don’t drink coffee back home in the U.S. anymore, so I’m surprised my heart hasn’t exploded or entirely stopped. But, with the 8 hour time change and acclimating to a new schedule I re-discovered my habit.

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We took the ferry to Marstrandsön to wander through Fortress Carlsten. It was really, really unsettling to go into actual cells where prisoners were held, but of course I had to touch everything and run into every room on my own when no one was looking. It’s a miracle I actually didn’t get lost or left behind. I also probably have some new bad juju. Oops.

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Welcome!

Hi!

I’m Chelsea and I’m crazy obsessed with traveling the world and seeing everything. And cats. I love cats.

I have a cut-out of my cat, Jonah, that routinely travels with me. Yep, it's just as crazy and weird as it seems.

I have a cut-out of my cat, Jonah, that routinely travels with me – it is JUST as weird and hilarious as it seems. This is where the saga of cardboard Jonah started, Arenal Volcano in Costa Rica.

I started this blog as a place to digitally keep my all of my crazy thoughts and travels. The name Lost & Finding is based on my extreme wanderlust and always wanting to get lost in another new place, and that I’m still finding and discovering the world (I can’t actually take credit for coming up with the name. Shoutout to my homie Bill for the clever name – u da best!)

I hope to provide a closer look into my adventures and inspire someone else to get out and see the world or try something scary, new or different.

I have one goal, to visit all seven continents. As of this post, where I am currently in Sweden, I’ve visited four. I started traveling about two years ago and have been hooked ever since. One of my favorite travel tracking sites, TravellersPoint, tells me I’ve flown over 86,000 miles in the past couple years. I guess you could say I’ve been busy!

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Map created using TravellersPoint

I haven’t yet seen the world, but I certainly plan on it! I like to always tell people “I have nowhere to go but everywhere”!