Where in the World is Dakota?

Called to Go: Following the Mapmaker’s Call, One Step at a Time

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  • October 1: Scotland Part 1.2: Mystery, Haggis, and Haunted Alleyways: My Enchanted Arrival in Scotland

    Info Blurb

    What started as a simple connecting flight turned into an unexpectedly charming adventure—complete with a vanishing earbud, a bus ticket quest, a knightly dinner companion, and a late-night ghost tour. My first day in Scotland had a little bit of everything: mystery, mishaps, and magic. ✨

    🛫 Flight #2 – The Mysterious Vanishing Earbud 🎧💀✈️

    After my airport marathon victory (see Scotland, Part 1.1), I was more than ready to sit down, catch my breath, and enjoy a peaceful flight. I found my seat, buckled in, queued up my playlist 🎶… and then—poof. My earbud vanished 😱.

    One second, it was happily nestled in my ear 🎧. The next, it straight-up Houdini’d itself into another dimension 🌀. I froze, did the awkward pat-down-check-the-floor dance 🕵️‍♀️, then peered under the seat. My seat neighbors even joined the hunt—the person behind me snapped a few photos 📸 as we all searched every crack and corner. Nothing. Not even a hint, as if the wee thing had sprouted legs 🦵 and scampered off to explore Edinburgh on its own

    The flight attendants, bless them 🙏, even helped me look once everyone had deplaned. We scoured the seat pockets, the floor, the carpet seams—anywhere it could’ve rolled or bounced. Still nothing. I took a picture of the sad, empty plane floor 📷 as evidence of my earbud’s mysterious disappearance.

    RIP, little buddy 💔. You were good while you lasted 🎧💀.

    🚌 The Great Bus Ticket Adventure 🚌🗺️

    After saying my final goodbyes to the vanished earbud, I stepped off the plane ready for whatever Scotland had waiting for me next 🌄. First mission: figure out how to get into town.

    Now, I’ve navigated airports before, but trying to buy a bus ticket after a full day of travel brain 🧠💤? That’s an Olympic event in itself 🏅. A few wrong lines ❌, one machine that refused to cooperate 🖥️, and at least two “Wait, am I even in the right place?” moments later—I finally had my ticket in hand 🎟️. Victory! 🏆

    The bus ride itself was calm, scenic 🌳🏰, and exactly what I needed to decompress. I watched the city roll by—stone buildings 🏘️, green hills 🌿, a few locals walking dogs 🐕 that looked way too happy for how tired I was—and let it sink in: I was really here 🌄.

    Next stop: finding my lodging 🏠. Or… at least trying to.

    🏠 Checking In… Almost 🛎️😅

    Getting to my lodging felt like the final stretch of an already eventful day. I followed my map 🗺️, took a few wrong turns (in true Dakota fashion 😉), and finally found the door—success! Or so I thought.

    I punched in the entry code… nothing ❌. Tried again. Still nothing ❌. At that point, I stood there, luggage in hand 🧳, sweat threatening to make a comeback 💦, and just laughed 😆. Of course, I couldn’t get checked in—the worker wouldn’t be back for another 30 minutes ⏳. Why would anything today go smoothly?

    And let’s be honest—I’m someone who does not do well when I’m hangry 😤🍴. Luckily, there was a cozy little place nearby 🍴 that looked promising for food and a quick break ☕, so off I went. If I couldn’t get inside, I might as well feed the hanger before it took control 🍽️.

    🍽️ The First Meal (and My Introduction to Haggis) 🥘👑

    Just a few steps away, I found a cozy spot that promised hearty Scottish fare 🐟 and a quiet place to regroup. I dropped my bags 🧳, ordered a drink 🍺, and decided to dive right in—when in Scotland, try the haggis, right?

    It arrived fried 🍳, which I figured was a good sign. Everything’s better fried… and you know what? It actually was! Crispy on the outside, flavorful on the inside 😋, and paired with a rich, savory sauce 🍯 that pulled it all together. I went in cautiously and came out a haggis believer (well… at least the fried kind).

    To top it off, my dining companion—if you can call it that—was a full suit of knight’s armor 🛡️ standing directly behind me. Between the cozy lighting 💡, the fried haggis 🍽️, and my silent, shiny guardian, I couldn’t help but feel a bit like a princess 👑 enjoying her royal feast. Little did I know, Scotland had even more fairytale moments waiting just around the corner ✨.

    The place was warm and welcoming 🏡, with the kind of relaxed buzz that makes you forget how tired you are 😌. After polishing off my meal and feeling properly recharged 🔋, it was finally time to head back and check in for real—round two, here we go 🏠.

    🗺️ Exploring the Neighborhood (and an Unexpected Ghostly Encounter) 👻🌙

    Once I finally settled in, I couldn’t resist heading back out to explore 🏞️. The evening air was cool and crisp, with fall leaves swirling around 🍂, the kind that wakes you up no matter how long your day’s been 😴. The streets glowed softly under old lamplight 🏮, cobblestones slick from an earlier mist 🌫️, and everything felt just a little enchanted ✨—like I’d wandered straight into a storybook 📖.

    I meandered past stone buildings 🏘️ and narrow lanes, catching glimpses of cozy pubs 🍺 and tucked-away shops 🛍️, all humming with quiet life. It was the kind of place where every turn felt like it had a secret waiting to be discovered 🗝️.

    And then, as if the night wasn’t magical enough already 🌌, I signed up for a free ghost tour 👻. Because who doesn’t love a little haunted history to round out their first night in Scotland?

    During the tour, I got to see the crypt of Bloody Mackenzie 🩸⚰️ (Outlander fans will know who this is) and, from behind a locked gate, the Covenanter’s Prison 🏰🔒—an area notorious for extreme paranormal activity 👻💀. The Scottish government keeps it locked unless you sign heavy legal documents 📝⚠️, so just getting a glimpse felt like stepping into a forbidden world.

    We wandered through centuries-old closes and courtyards 🏰 as the guide spun eerie tales of restless spirits and ancient mischief 👻🕯️. Afterward, I actually looked up some of the stories online, and—surprisingly—they are all based on real legends and beliefs 🧐📚. The chill in the air might’ve been the wind… or maybe not. Either way, it was the perfect ending to a day that had already felt like three rolled into one ⏳.

    By the time I made it back to my room 🛏️, the city had quieted 🌙, and so had I—finally ready for some well-earned rest before whatever adventure came next ✨.

    Welcome to Edinburgh! (well outside the airport anyway).
    I felt very safe while eating.
    DELICIOUS food, great atmosphere, and friendly service

    Fried haggis I don’t remember the name of this, but YUM!

    Now a variety of pictures from just out walking close to where I was staying, basically around Princes Street.

    The came the GHOST TOUR!

    The walk back to my bed had some gorgeous views also.

    This picture does not do justice to how tall this monument actually stands.

  • Fog, Sweat & Gate Changes: How I Signed Up for an Accidental Airport Marathon

    Info Blurb: What started as a simple connection quickly turned into an endurance test. I found myself sprinting through terminals like an athlete in a comedy sketch—dodging slow walkers, praying the gate agents were still awake, and questioning if I’d accidentally signed up for a full-on airport marathon. Between fog delays, missing stairs, and unexpected cardio, I discovered that airports secretly double as gyms.

    October 1, 2025 — Heading to Scotland

    There I was, standing nearly at the back of Flight #1, and the stair truck was nowhere to be seen. ✈️ We had to circle the airport for 20 minutes because of fog (glad we were safe, but my heart rate was starting to climb 💓). Then—another delay with the stairs. No need to panic… right?

    Then I looked at my boarding info for my second flight: gate change from A (where I was deplaning—hopefully soon!) to B23. Gulp 😬 Good thing I had perfect running attire on… NOT! 🏃‍♀️

    When the stairs finally arrived, cheers erupted from inside the cabin—followed by the slowest-moving humans I’ve ever witnessed. Come on, people! It’s not that early—move! Please! 😅

    Finally, my feet hit the ground. I darted about 200 meters to the terminal, up a flight of escalators, bypassed the next one, and took the stairs—two at a time—with my bags in hand. 🎒 Paused for about 20 seconds to figure out which way “B” was, and then took off again.

    The “walk” through the terminal felt like a shopping mall 🛍️—so many stores and displays, all right where you had to walk. I really wish people came with brake lights and turn signals for when they suddenly stop or veer in front of you to look at souvenirs. 😆

    Anyway, I finally made it through the shopping gauntlet—at least 400 meters, if not more—to customs into Germany. Luckily, there was no one in my line! The customs officer sure took his sweet time deciding if I was really me, though. 😂 Stamp in hand, I dashed off toward B1–4… I had a long way to go, and my gate had officially closed one minute ago. But I wasn’t giving up.

    Those conveyor-belt walking platforms? Absolute lifesavers. I used three of them—plus my “power-walking at lunch” training (thanks, GDC ladies!)—and zoomed past the gates. 🏃‍♀️ I had to turn left and go downstairs for mine. I literally ran down the ramps. Feet burning 🔥, jacket stuck to my arms, sweat dripping from my hat brim… I kept going—just 100 meters left!

    About 50 meters away, I saw a large group of people… but were they at B23 or B24? I couldn’t tell. Guess what? They were at B23—I freaking made it! 🙌

    Turns out, flight #2 had a 10-minute delay, and I had been too busy running (and focusing on my breathing) to notice. Relief washed over me—I had made it! 🎉

    And then… we waited. About 15 minutes to board the bus that would take us to our plane. Honestly, at this point, I could have walked there—and since I was already warmed up, probably even faster. 🚶‍♀️ Oh well. Once on the bus, we pulled away… and then stopped again about 500 meters from the plane. Were we walking? Were we going? 🤷‍♀️ Nobody knew.

    Finally, movement. The packed bus—full of people in coats—was getting steamy and a bit smelly. 😬 When the doors opened, fresh, cool air hit my face. We all stumbled out like cattle 🐄 toward the stairs.

    My poor, tired lamberfeeties were thrilled to finally sit down. I gave a silent sorry to anyone unfortunate enough to be near me in that jacket after my mad dash. But happily, I’m on the plane and heading toward my destination. ✈️

    Now… let’s see how easily I can navigate from there! 😅🏴

    Setting off!
    Well…this is a first.
    Not moving.
    Extremely happy I purchased and brought this chargeable mini fan. Worked wonders to help cool me down after my ‘workout’.

  • September 27, 2025-Castles, Catwalks, and Chinatown: First Day in Milan

    Today I got to see a real-life castle! 🏰 No, seriously—an actual castle, the kind you read about in storybooks or imagine in a movie scene. I half expected a trumpet to sound from one of the towers announcing that jousting was about to begin. Milan instantly felt larger-than-life, buzzing with energy and history. The castle itself stopped me in my tracks. Massive stone walls stretched out before me, strong and solid, as if they’d been holding their ground for centuries just waiting for me to finally show up. Walking through the archway, I half expected the clatter of hooves on cobblestones. Instead, it was tourists snapping photos and kids chasing pigeons — but that didn’t take away from the magic.

    What amazed me most was the mix of grandeur and accessibility — here was a fortress that once guarded dukes and nobles, and now I could just wander right in, no velvet ropes or “keep out” signs stopping me. To get there, I even walked across what was once a moat and wooden bridge, now paved over in concrete, and I couldn’t help but picture ladies in gowns and guards on horseback crossing the same path centuries before. The red brick against the blue Milanese sky looked like something straight from a painting. Standing there, I realized this was the first castle I’d ever seen up close in my life, and it made me feel both very small and wildly lucky. 🍀

    Leaving the castle behind, we wandered through a leafy park that made me feel like I’d stepped straight into a Bridgerton promenade. 🌸 Couples strolled arm in arm, kids darted around with gelato cones, and I half expected a string quartet to start playing in the background. From there, the city shifted, and it quickly became obvious that Milan was buzzing with something extra — Fashion Week. Everywhere I turned, it felt like the sidewalks had transformed into runways. People weren’t just walking; they were strutting, each outfit louder or sleeker than the last. And there I was, happily gawking at it all, my comfy “tourist shoes” squeaking against the cobblestones. 👟 Just when I thought the day couldn’t get any more unexpected, we turned a corner… and landed in Chinatown.

    Before diving into the bustle of Chinatown, there was one very important stop: gelato. 🍨 My first gelato in Italy! Honestly, I wasn’t sure if it could live up to the hype, but one spoonful in and I realized every rave review I’d ever heard was completely justified. I chose caramello salato (salted caramel) and chocolate chip, and it was creamy, smooth, and not-too-sweet — like ice cream’s more sophisticated, better-dressed cousin (fitting for Milan during Fashion Week). Standing there with gelato in hand, castle still fresh in my mind, and stylish people strutting by, I felt like I was tasting Italy in the best possible way.

    As soon as we stepped into Chinatown, my senses went into overdrive. The smell of sizzling noodles mixed with the aroma of fresh pastries had me reminding myself not to shop with my nose. One shop had bubble tea so colorful it looked like it belonged in a paint store, another had shelves of snacks I couldn’t pronounce but desperately wanted to try. I caught myself grinning like a kid in a candy shop — except this candy shop also sold roasted duck and dim sum. 🥡 For a brief moment, I forgot I was in Milan at all… until I glanced up and remembered the stylish Italians casually strutting past with shopping bags in hand.

    After sauntering through Chinatown, we made our way to the “big buildings.” 🏙️ Yes, there were a few skyscrapers, but nothing compared to New York, Chicago, or even Denver. Still, the kids (ages 14, 12, and 9) were such troupers, pointing out little details they thought I’d enjoy. I should probably mention this wasn’t a solo trip. My new friend had invited me along while she got her laptop fixed, and traveling with her and her three boys made navigating the trains much smoother than if I’d been fumbling through with my very limited Italian. Standing there with them, gazing up at sleek towers after starting the day in an ancient fortress, I couldn’t help but feel like I’d unrolled a scroll of history that stretched from castles to catwalks to glass skyscrapers — all in one day.

    Next on the agenda: food. Because let’s be honest, all great adventures eventually lead to something delicious. 🍴 After wandering past the “big buildings,” our stomachs made their demands loud and clear — growling louder than the traffic and staging a full-on protest. We all knew one thing for sure: we needed to sit down. Our feet had done enough exploring for the day.

    The solution? A Chinese restaurant. Yep, my first full meal in the fashion capital of Italy wasn’t pasta or pizza but spring rolls and noodles. And honestly? No regrets. The funniest part? The server handed me an Italian menu instead of an English one. 🇮🇹 Which means either I’m blending in better than I thought, or I’ve officially leveled up to “passable tourist.” I’ll take the win!

    The boys dug right in, chopsticks clattering, while I happily followed their lead. The flavors were bold and comforting, and it felt almost surreal to be sitting in Milan eating dishes that reminded me more of Denver’s Chinatown than Italy. I couldn’t help but laugh at the irony — one day I’m eating giant salads in Busto, the next I’m feasting on Chinese soup under the shadow of Milan’s skyscrapers.

    With full bellies, tired legs, and eyelids growing heavier by the minute on the tiniest travelers, we began our trek back to the station. 🚉 The streets pulsed with life — groups of friends gathered around glowing café tables, glasses clinking like little bells, bursts of laughter rolling out into the night air. Just hours before I’d been standing inside the walls of a centuries-old castle, and now I was strolling through a city buzzing with neon lights and midnight chatter. The contrast was striking, but somehow seamless — as if Milan was reminding me that history and modern life don’t compete here, they dance together. I couldn’t understand the words drifting out from the tables, but I didn’t need to; the joy was unmistakable, the kind that wraps around you like a melody you don’t know but still hum along to. As I walked past, I found myself smiling and thinking: one day soon, I’ll find my own crew to share evenings like this with, voices rising together in the music of belonging. And in that moment, I couldn’t help but feel that God was already preparing those friendships — weaving His plans quietly into the laughter, the light, and even the long walk back to the station. ✨

    As the train carried us back toward home, I thought about everything we’d crammed into a single day — history, fashion, food, laughter, and friendship. Milan didn’t just dazzle me; it reminded me why I came here in the first place: to soak in every moment, big or small, and let Italy surprise me. More than that, it reminded me that God is in the details — in castles that stand like whispers from another age, in gelato that melts sweetly on a bustling street, and in the simple joy of sharing a meal with new friends. Each piece of the day felt like a gift, stitched together with grace, and I can’t wait to see what story He writes for tomorrow. 🙏

  • September 27, 2025-Trapped at the Exit: My Italian Grocery Adventure

    Forget sightseeing—the FIRST real adventure today was navigating the grocery aisles! The store, only a short walk from the apartment, felt similar to walking into a smaller neighborhood grocery store back home. You could tell some patrons were regulars, some hadn’t been in for a while, and then there was me—I’d never been there before.

    I chose one of the yellow baskets on wheels to gather my items. I wasn’t planning to buy too much, so a basket was perfect—and it saved my arm strength for carrying everything back. 😅

    Thanks to TikTok videos, I knew that when shopping in the produce section, you’re expected to put on gloves before touching anything. I got that part right. What I didn’t know was that you also have to weigh the produce yourself and print a sticker for each item to scan at checkout. I discovered this only after making it to the self-checkout—so back to the produce section I went! 🙈

    Observing the aisles was fascinating. The pasta aisle (no, not every Italian makes their pasta from scratch every meal!) was enormous. The olive oil section? Endless. Processed foods? Almost nonexistent. There were no flavored creamers, no sugary cereals towering on the shelves, and the eggs weren’t even refrigerated—they sat out neatly on display!

    Another section that caught my attention was the coffee aisle. Rows upon rows of espresso in small packages—no giant tubs in sight. Starbucks does make an appearance on the shelves, but overall the ingredient lists seem shorter and less chemical-filled than what I’m used to. I might have to ask someone back in the States to send me a picture for a proper comparison.

    To avoid testing my Italian at the register, I opted for the self-checkout lanes—something I know well from home. Later I learned these are a newer addition to Italian stores. They’re definitely ahead of us in one way, though: reusable bags. Italians have been charging for bags for at least a decade!

    Checkout itself turned into quite the comedy. The machine I chose kept glitching, and the attendant had to keep coming over. Of course I’d pick that one! She was kind and patient, even when I had to circle back to weigh my fruit and print the missing stickers. Google Translate’s photo feature came in handy at the register, too. Finally, the struggle was over… or so I thought.

    I turned toward the exit and saw a gate. Easy, right? Just walk up and it opens? Nope. The security guard looked on, chuckling, as I fumbled with it. Finally, I took a breath and managed to say: “Sono americana, il mio italiano non è buono.” (I’m American, my Italian is not good.) He smiled, said “ricevuta” (receipt), and pointed to a small scanner. Ah-ha! I scanned my receipt, the gate opened, and I slipped out—quickly and a little embarrassed. 😅

    I didn’t buy much, but the prices were noticeably more affordable than in Colorado. Back at the house, I cooked a meal as a thank-you to the family I’m staying with. They (and one of the daughters’ friends) seemed to enjoy my attempt at enchilada casserole. It wasn’t my best—some ingredients were missing—but it was tasty nonetheless. I wonder if the larger grocery stores might have more of what I’m used to.

    If something as everyday as grocery shopping feels like an adventure, imagine what the rest of this year will bring! I haven’t even been here a week yet!

    My Italian attempt at Enchilada Casserole 🇲🇽➡️🇮🇹. Tortillas, chicken, bell peppers, tomatoes, and not one but TWO cheeses 🧀✨. Less ‘authentic recipe,’ more ‘happy accident with extra cheese’—but hey, isn’t that what cooking abroad is all about? 😅🍴 Totally a new creation, but a delicious one!

  • September 26, 2025-Meetings, Schedules, and a Dash of Chaos

    Once I woke up (2 AM and I are much closer friends than I’d like these days), I got ready for a day that promised to be filled with a variety of tasks. I had a follow-up interview at one school and a meeting at another. The meeting to finalize my timetable (schedule), as well as those of the other conversation teachers, was lively.

    I used Google Translate to follow along, since I could only catch phrases here and there. Let me tell you—listening to teachers in Italy discuss courses and schedules is very similar to back in the States. I found myself chuckling at the banter, smiling as it reminded me of the passionate discussions I used to have with my own department in years past.

    A dear friend—whom I’m so grateful to for helping me line up my position at the school in the first place—offered to drive me to the second meeting. There, I spoke with a woman I had interviewed with earlier in the year about where it might be most beneficial to have me teach. Once I receive my timetable from the first school, I’ll give it to her so she can decide whether I’ll be teaching full classes, small groups, or one-on-one.

    After the meeting, we walked to a local café for our evening caffè (coffee). The coffee here is REAL coffee—no corn-syrup-laden flavors, no artificial sweeteners, no milk, and no iced versions. (That last one might be a challenge for me to get used to… but I haven’t perished yet. 😅) Coffee is served in small cups, and most people simply stand at the counter, drinking the rich, decadent liquid in one or two gulps. I prefer to savor mine slowly, so that’s another adjustment—learning to drink it quickly!

    It may only be my first week, but I can already feel Italy shaping me. All I know is that this place is keeping me on my toes. Who knows—by the end of my time here, I may be speaking Italian, standing at the counter, and swiftly finishing my coffee!

  • September 25, 2025-Lost Luggage No More

    The jet lag and time change are no joke. I thought I’d be fine, but they’re kicking my gluteus maximus more than I anticipated. This is exactly why I planned to arrive earlier than when I’ll be teaching—to give myself time to adjust. The big adventure for the 25th? Tracking down my luggage, which had decided to take an extra ride to Munich.

    I walked to the train station easily enough—only had to check my GPS twice to confirm my turns (and I was right both times!). At the station, I bought a ticket to the airport. Knowing the airport name helped, and thankfully the woman at the ticket counter spoke English. Still, somewhere along the line I misunderstood… because I ended up on the wrong train.

    Yep. I hopped on a train going in the opposite direction! 😅 Once I realized, I got off, admitted to a Polizia officer that I was lost, and he kindly pointed me toward the correct train—telling me to “just get on.” That one did take me to the airport, where the next chapter of this saga began.

    The airport looked like DIA—under construction. I don’t remember it being that way when I first arrived… was I really that sleep deprived? I found signs for “Lost and Found,” but they also said “Staff and Crew,” so I assumed it wasn’t for me. I trekked across the airport searching for another Lost and Found. Nothing. Getting annoyed, I re-read my email: Terminal 1, Lost and Found. The only one I’d seen was the staff door. Finally, I asked for help at a currency exchange desk. The woman kindly explained that the frosted glass door was, in fact, for me—it would have opened automatically if I’d walked closer. 🤦‍♀️

    So back I went, retracing my steps. Sure enough, the door opened when I got near. Inside, I went through security (like TSA—no problem), but couldn’t find Air Canada on any of the boards. I saw United, so since I’d booked through them, I thought that was my best bet. Fifteen minutes later, I was told nope—wrong line. Air Canada was in the other (much longer) line. United wasn’t even there anymore!

    So, into the long line I went. I waited at least an hour and a half. I felt especially bad for moms wrangling little ones while trying to claim lost luggage. Honestly, I considered myself lucky to only have one missing bag. While waiting, I practiced Italian on my Kindle app—every little bit helps!

    Finally, my turn. Based on how long others had taken, I braced for at least 30 minutes. But I was finished in under 10! Filing a claim right away had cut down the process, and I still had my luggage tag sticker, which matched my bag exactly. Huge time saver.

    WOOHOO—reunited at last! 🎉 My bag and I had a long walk back across the airport (of course, the exit was right by the currency exchange desk I’d asked at earlier 🙃). Then it was back on the train to Busto, followed by a 10–15 minute walk with my VERY loud suitcase—wheels clattering over cobblestones late at night. (Pro tip: not recommended!)

    At last, I reached my gate, hauled my 70-pound suitcase up two flights of stairs, and collapsed with pride. A year ago, I was still rebuilding strength after cancer treatment and surgeries. To carry all that—umbrella dangling from my wrist, just in case of rain—and make it home felt like such a win.

    The “lost” is lost no more, and my tired feet got the rest they deserved that night.

    Arriving with one less bag than I took off with….

  • September 24, 2025 — Exploring the Charm of My New Italian Home

    Today I wandered the streets of the place I’m blessed to call home for the coming months. I honestly felt like I had stepped inside the pages of a novel—or at least back in time. The architecture is stunning, the history feels alive, and the air is full of anticipation for the wonderful days ahead.

    My first walk was to one of the schools, where I’ll soon be meeting some of the teachers, and then to have lunch nearby. I didn’t capture a picture of my chicken Caesar salad, but you guys—it was the largest salad I’ve ever been served! And the price? Less than $8! (I’ve spent more than that on a coffee at the drive-through!)

    After lunch, I was driven back to where I’m currently staying, but I still wanted to explore the area a bit more. So I ventured down the road to two of the town squares. Everything is absolutely gorgeous! But… rookie move—I forgot to bring an umbrella. When the thunder, lightning, and raindrops started rolling in, I kicked my lamberfeeties (my feet—thanks to a friend for the term!) into high gear.

    Guys—ragazzi—these churches I cannot get over the history I’m literally standing upon. I wandered inside just as they were open but not yet fully lit. Even in the dim light, the atmosphere was breathtaking. I can only imagine the splendor when everything is illuminated—absolutely goosebump-giving.

    Every morsel of food I’ve eaten so far has been delicious. Before coming here, I told myself I’d ease into the food, since it’s so much better and I don’t want to shock my body by gorging on all the things at once. Believe it or not, I haven’t even tried gelato yet—surprised? Me too. 😅

    The light and dark contrast this day added such a dramatic feel to my meandering through town.
    Yes, that says 1571 at the bottom!
    These paintings are massive. I can’t imagine how long it would have taken the artist to actual paint a masterpiece such as this.
    The artwork and details are simply stunning.
    Those statues at the top went all the way around that area.
    A different church-a bit darker inside but just as gorgeous. I didn’t get as many images here because it was so dark.

    I can’t get over how large these doors are-LOVE IT! This second picture is the top of my head at the door. Look how far below the cross bar I am & I’m not short by any means!

    Blog at WordPress.com.

  • September 23, 2025-Somewhere over Europe

    I’m waking up somewhere over France right now! 🇫🇷 AAHH!!

    Okay okay… I’m getting ahead of myself—let’s take it back to yesterday.

    First off, I’m proud of myself for calmly (and mostly anxiety-free) navigating my way into Canada 🇨🇦. Let’s be honest… I’m thankful for the abundance of arrows, signs, and partition walls. 😂 But really—for anyone who’s traveled with me in the past—I was ACTUALLY cool as a cucumber (thank you, mental health work!). I did get a bit turned around, but I used my big girl words and asked for some assistance.

    Anyway, the Canadian layover (5 hours) was NOT as arduous as I’d imagined. I walked a few laps of the entire area—much to my back’s dismay. Still haven’t mastered packing light yet… keyword: yet! 🙂

    I met a lovely, well-seasoned-in-life couple from Iowa (I won’t hold that against them, since they aren’t holding it against me that I’m originally from Nebraska… hehe).

    While waiting to board, I met another lovely human on her way to play violin at a wedding in Italy—literally for just three songs! I bet it’s going to sound absolutely beautiful, and I can’t wait to search the internet later for recordings of her playing. I hope she enjoys her vacation before heading back to work!

    On this flight, I’ve had the pleasure of sitting in front of a newlywed couple from St. Louis on their honeymoon! How exciting!! With the stress of planning a wedding (they were just married—literally), they don’t have a ton of plans beyond their general itinerary. So of course, I’ve been happily sharing a plethora of my Type A, thoroughly researched ideas. 😂

    I seriously wish them the best as they start this new chapter. I pray they always keep dating each other, communicate openly, and remember they’re a team—no matter what life throws their way. Hopefully, lots of delicious food and beautiful memories await them!

    Travel tip for my tall friends: Pay the slight extra for the exit row—major leg room! The only downside is that the bathroom is usually nearby, so it can be a high-traffic area. Honestly, it hasn’t bothered me at all (and no unpleasant… um… odors either 😅).

    Also—I’M FREEZING. Yes, I know… a very rare moment for me. But here we are.

    362 km until we land—about an hour! EEK!! I’m eagerly checking out the window as we descend. Still just lots of bright, white clouds. I’m glad my body woke me up when it did, even though I only got about 3 or 4 hours of sleep—way better than the 20 minutes the night before!

    Once I land and handle all the airport things in this brand-new country, I’ll have to figure out how to navigate to and from the train station (treno stazione). I’m instantly reminded of a VERY WRONG stop I once made on the New York subway at 2 a.m. 😬

    It’s going to be just fine—promise. And if not… well, I’m sure an entertaining story will come out of it. I’ll definitely keep you posted on how it all goes.

    We’re descending more now, and the Swiss Alps are just below. Come on clouds—move over! I’ve got new things to see!

    Ciao for now! 🇮🇹✈️

    All the leg room!
    The Swiss Alps

  • September 22, 2025-Let the Adventure Begin!

    Holy crap! I’m doing it!!
    I’m on my first flight on my way to moving to freaking Italy. Like… what?! Who am I, and what the hell am I thinking?! LOL.

    If I weren’t the one physically sitting here, I’d say this was a joke or a dream. I also can’t believe I’m still awake. I only slept about 20 minutes—30 if I’m lucky—before Elizabeth picked me up. I’ve nodded off a few times, but I’m REALLY pushing myself to stay awake until tonight’s flight.

    Getting all of my luggage through DIA was quite comical, if I do say so myself. The strap I used to hold my two large black bags together was SO helpful. I would’ve been a complete disaster without it. The new security updates DIA implemented were smooth—no issues at all. Well, except both my carry-on and personal item were flagged… for my squishy cube and makeup remover wipes. Strange—but nothing wrong!

    We just officially flew over Toronto—first time seeing Canada! Woo!

    I met a kind stranger while boarding, and we had a casual conversation about why we were each flying. He was… not floored, but maybe astonished, that I’m just getting on a plane and moving to Italy. Never been there, just doing it. I guess it really is astonishing—or stupid—one of the two. :)

    But really, I’m just walking in obedience to where I’ve been led and called to go.

    This stranger also suggested I should write a book—knowing I’m doing this blog. Maybe I will… actually use that master’s degree I paid for, haha. Funny enough, he isn’t the first person—someone who knows nothing about me—to say that. Maybe they’ve all been messengers from the Big Man Himself. I know this man would be one person to buy my book—1 is better than none!

    I don’t think any of this felt truly real until the plane actually took off. Up until that moment, I was pretty terrified and questioning if I was doing the right thing. But deep down, I know I am. I also know God didn’t stay behind at DIA—He’s right here with me, and He’s already in all the tomorrows I can’t see yet.

    As someone wise once told me: One day at a time.

    Let the adventure begin!

    Elizabeth dropping me off at the airport beofre the ass crack dawn!
    Me & my luggage

    Goodbye Colorado!

    Hello Canada!

  • Where in the World is Dakota?

    Welcome to my Travel Blog as I wander around Europe!