Laura Zera

Why Your Canadian Music Friends Are A Lot Sad

“We have some very tough news to share with you today, and we wish it wasn’t so. A few months ago, in December, Gord Downie was diagnosed with terminal brain cancer.”

This was the opening for the email that fans of Canadian rock band The Tragically Hip found in their inbox on May 24. As the news spread through that country’s media outlets, an entire nation wished it wasn’t so.

The music world lost some greats in the past year—Scott Weiland, Glenn Frey, Phil Taylor and Lemmy Kilmister from Motörhead, David Bowie, Prince—and millions of global citizens mourned together. Canadian music lovers can at least take small solace in the fact that Downie, the band’s incomparable front man, is far from gone: on Wednesday, The Hip announced what will be an epic farewell tour for this summer.

There’s another thing about Downie and The Hip that’s different, too: They belong to Canada, fully, completely. And Canadians like it that way.

While The Hip toured internationally over their 32 years together, their fame never grew to the depths of other acts from the Great White North. Think Neil Young. Bryan Adams. Rush. Alanis Morissette. Drake. Justin Bieber. But that doesn’t mean the band hasn’t won the unwavering loyalty of millions in its home country. It’s not so much cult-like as it is one big, happy Hip family. As Canadian Prime Minister Trudeau tweeted after yesterday’s cancer announcement, “Gord Downie is a true original who has been writing Canada’s soundtrack for more than 30 years.”

Downie has the genius creative knack for infusing The Hip’s songs with Canadian culture, which is what has made him both a national treasure and a beloved backyard-barbecue beer buddy, at least in spirit. There are lines like “in the forget-yer-skates dream” (from It’s a Good Life If You Don’t Weaken), something any Canuck who has ever figure skated or played hockey in the pre-dawn hours understands, and “Bill Barilko disappeared that summer” (from Fifty Mission Cap), a reference to the Toronto Maple Leaf player’s 1951 death in a floatplane crash. For a plucky country that rails against being lumped in with America, Canada finds cultural representation in The Hip, and its cultural archives at least partly in The Hip’s discography.

Then there’s the matter of seeing The Hip live. Who says Canadians are polite and buttoned up? Downie vibrates with energy on the stage while legions of Hip fans scream out lyrics with him. He sweats, a lot. The audience sweats, a lot. And it’s all-the-way-round love.

Full disclosure: I’m a die-hard fan, and have sweat love with The Hip on a number of truly memorable occasions. There was the time I hollered the lyrics to Fireworks with a guy wrapped in a Canadian flag at Seattle’s Paramount Theater.

If there’s a goal that everyone remembers
It was back in old seventy two
We all squeezed the stick and we all pulled the trigger
And all I remember is sitting beside you

There was the time I jumped up and down like I was on ecstasy (I wasn’t) to the song Poets at Burnaby’s Deer Lake Park.

And porn speaks to its splintered legions
To the pink amid the withered cornstalks in them winter regions
While aiming at the archetypal father
He said with such broad and tentative swipes why do you even bother?

And the time I belted out At The Hundredth Meridian with a six-foot-four giant in a Habs jersey (who was on ecstasy—he hugged my husband) at The Showbox in Seattle.

If I die of vanity, promise me, promise me
If they bury me some place I don’t want to be
You’ll dig me up and transport me, unceremoniously
Away from the swollen city breeze, garbage bag trees
Whispers of disease and the acts of enormity
And lower me slowly and sadly and properly
Get Ry Cooder to sing my eulogy

There’s more, but you get my drift. The lyrics are smart. The Tragically Hip is Canada: Canada Post issued a stamp with them on it in 2013. And The Hip’s visionary leader, Gord Downie, is a poet and a gentleman. He’s a friend and a team mate. He’s a living legend who, much to the deep despair of many Canadians, is dying, as we just learned.

We are hurting for him, we are hurting for his family, and we are hurting because we can’t imagine Canada without him. Fans will celebrate his enormous presence and contributions at some point, like he no doubt wants us to; he did, after all, write the lyric “no dress rehearsal, this is our life.” But not yet. Not yet.

Photos by Francis Zera / ZeraPhoto

Abigail Thomas Keeps Memoir, and Life, Real

By Laura Zera 14 Comments

At a time when memoirists are often told the story that will sell to a publisher is the “noisy” story that can most reliably garner headlines, links and clicks—and therefore, sales—it feels like vindication that Abigail Thomas’ work stands out on the shelf for a different reason: It is real, relatable life, beautifully written. It’s car accidents and cancer and love affairs, how Thomas responds to these difficult (but not entirely uncommon) events, and how they shape her and her relationships. Woven throughout are accounts of the furniture her dogs destroyed, her latest painting, a meal cooked, pulling nettles from the garden, a visit with an old friend, drinking too much.

And thank God. Thank God for the lack of hype and drama, the absence of flash and sentimentality. Thank God for a writer and books that slowly and quietly creep into our hearts, and expand them. When I read Abigail Thomas’ work, I feel like I’ve been gifted with an important life lesson about what’s important. I breathe thanks for her willingness to examine her life, give herself grace for the parts where she behaved as a flawed human, and withhold judgment of the rest, as it gives others permission to do the same. Her honesty gives me courage. Her gratitude opens the spigot for my own. More gifts.

Thomas came through Seattle on April 27, and though I was on the tail-end of a head cold and my neck and chest were lit up with a siren-red heat rash—a special thing I get with any manner of illness—I put on mascara and wore a puffy scarf and attended the event with my friend Melinda, who is also a memoirist. On the way there, we’d driven not a hundred feet from Melinda’s house when she noted (about Thomas), “it’s the things she doesn’t say.”

It is that, too. The space that Thomas creates with “the things she doesn’t say” allows for the things she does to have more impact. Not everything has to be in neon lights, nor do we want everything to be in neon lights.

Thomas’ reading—oh hell, I’m going to call her Abigail from now on, or even Abby. Abby’s reading was just like her writing. She is the kind of person who leaves you wishing she was your next-door neighbor, and that there was a gate in the middle of the fence between your houses, or no fence at all. At 71, she wears bright green booties, revels in old stories of young lovers and drops f-bombs. She is delightful. And, to my surprise, she glowed equally brightly when she talked about teaching others to write memoir.

This energy may be why yesterday, as I lay in congested misery on the sofa with a box of tissue and my pug, some epiphanies about what I next need to do on my own memoir started to emerge. I’d already agreed with my agent back in January that I would undertake revisions, based on thoughtful (rejection) feedback we received from the initial batch of submissions to publishers. And then I went to Africa for a month, and I wrote a bunch of short pieces, and I went to LA—all ways of putting off what wasn’t coming easily to me in the first place. But yesterday, snotty and hot, and without any effort, I remembered something Abby said: “If you end your memoir where you think it’s supposed to end, you probably haven’t ended it in the right place.” Also, the honesty part. I wasn’t dishonest in the ending of my manuscript, but I wrapped it up too neatly, and in doing so, glossed over some of the truth.

I’m finally excited about digging in to these revisions. Rather than attributing this shift to the mini-delirium that comes with a head cold, I’m going to thank Abby Thomas. In her authenticity, I found a new appreciation for the power, and necessity, of my own.

Tell me about a writer or book who moved or inspired you!

Travel: The Many Faces of Dubai’s Burj Khalifa

By Laura Zera 4 Comments

As if it wasn’t enough to build the world’s tallest building — 2722 feet (829.8 meters) — the creators of the Burj Khalifa took things a step further (because that’s Dubai’s unofficial tag line, really) and added a light-show facade. Hang around long enough (or have dinner at a restaurant that overlooks it and the dancing fountains, like my friend Andy and I did last month), and you’ll see all combinations of incredible colors and designs. And yes, my photos do cut the top off. It’s virtually impossible to get the whole thing in one frame unless you’re a mile away from it.

As for zooming to the top, you’ve got two options: For about $34 USD, you can float around on the 124th floor, but it will cost you 95 bucks if you want to go all the way to the 148th. (From what I’ve been told, it’s not really worth the extra money.) But the main thing is that you must *book ahead!* Otherwise, you may find that the time slot you want is sold out, plus tickets cost more at the door.

Here are a few shots of what it looks like to peer down onto a city’s skyscrapers. It’s crazy.

The Burj Khalifa gift shop is filled with loads of overpriced crap your brain wouldn’t even register as desiring, including this very phallic stuffed version of the building.

And finally, if you’re curious to see the renowned dancing fountains, I’ve got you covered there, too, and all without having to pay the $14 going rate (due to Dubai’s prohibitive liquor laws) for a beer on the restaurant patio. Don’t even think about ordering wine…

Travel Tips: South Africa Edition

By Laura Zera 11 Comments

Cape Town from the boat — Cape Town’s Table Mountain

I’ve been wandering the globe for 31 years, and I still haven’t got my packing procedure and checklist nailed down (my husband will have just sprayed coffee out of his nose if he’s reading this; let’s just say we have a different flow when it comes to travel prep). I’m currently “going around” in South Africa and Botswana, as they like to say here, and seeing how in my last-minute bag stuffing I grabbed my trusted traveler (Nexus program) card instead of my permanent resident card, I’m kind of wondering if America will let me back in later this month. Ah well, in the meantime, here are some info bytes for this incredibly hospitable region.

A dassie rat’s view atop Table Mountain

If you’ve got an unlocked cell phone (or one that’s eligible for unlocking), rather than buying an international plan at home, just pop a local SIM card in when you arrive. The carriers around South Africa and Botswana are slick, and it’s nothing to find a shop and get set up. The cost for a SIM card, enough minutes to call taxis and local booking offices, and 400-500 mb of data is between 13 and 25 USD.
Don’t bring old money. When you get cash out of the ATM or from the teller before you leave for your trip, sort through it and exchange any bills that were issued prior to 2013. Many countries treat currency as though it has an expiry date. I forgot about this, and was turned down in Gaborone when I tried to exchange a perfectly pristine fifty from 1996. ATMs remain the simplest currency-exchange solution.
After some fuss, we got the car.

If you’ve booked lodging and services online, you may encounter places that insist on taking an old-fashioned imprint of your card and getting you to sign it once you’re there face to face. The problem? The new style of American credit cards doesn’t feature embossed numbers (or they’re only just barely raised). Twice already I’ve had to stand around and wait for 15-20 minutes while they fiddled with my card, and a (major name-brand) car rental agency first said they might not even be able to complete the booking.
Shared mini-van taxis are the cheapest way to get around in this part of the world, but if that seems like less than fun, then never fear: Uber is in South Africa! (In Botswana, a similar app is called Hello Cabs. It functions like Uber, except you still have to pay with cash at the end.)
Oh, hai

For a South African safari, Kruger Park ain’t the only game in town. Based on a recommendation from an SA friend, we decided to try Hluhluwe-Imfolozi Park (if you don’t sound like you’ve had 8 gin & tonics when you say it, then you’re pronouncing it wrong). It’s less built up, less crowded, and equally full of animals. It’s also the second-oldest reserve in the world, after Yellowstone. What I found to be a plus is that it’s only a 2.5-hour drive away from the nearest urban center/airport (Durban), whereas Kruger is a 5.5-hour drive from Johannesburg (though you can also now fly right in and out of Kruger).
That’s one well-horned rhino

I can’t help but throw in a clothing discovery. When the staff at the Seattle ExOfficio store told me last month that their underwear was a bestseller, I was skeptical. Though pricey, I bought a pair to try, as well as the even-pricier men’s version for my hubby. Well, I’m here to tell you that those folks weren’t exaggerating when they bragged about their knickers. They wick. They sink-wash and air-dry fast. They retain their shape. Best of all, they actually hold everything in place without hurting you. I will be buying more (when they go on sale).

Have anything to add? Don’t hold back!

Epstein-Barr Reactivation: Is It Really Bad?

By Laura Zera 326 Comments

*Note: this post was last updated in Oct.2019 (see below).

Not long ago, I read an excerpt from Anthony William’s book Medical Medium (Hay House, 2015). The chapter, titled “Epstein-Barr Virus, Chronic Fatigue Syndrome and Fibromyalgia,” starts out with a bang.

“The Epstein-Barr virus (EBV) has created a secret epidemic. Out of the roughly 320 million people in the U.S., over 225 million Americans have some form of EBV.”

Before reading this book chapter, if someone had played the word association game with me and said “Epstein-Barr,” my response would have been “mono,” as in mononucleosis (and then if they said “Christmas,” I would have said “The Pogues,” but that’s another story). In relation to EBV, that’s the only response I could have given, the only association I knew. But according to Williams, that’s merely Stage Two EBV. In its other three stages, it lives on inside us, either hanging around, waiting for the opportune time to mess around, or, in its more diabolical stages, acting as the catalyst for all sorts of ailments and diseases, from tinnitus to thyroid disorders to an inflamed liver or spleen.

As the chapter title suggests, EBV has also been linked to chronic fatigue syndrome and fibromyalgia, two highly mysterious and misunderstood illnesses. As I know a few people who suffer from symptoms that have thus far been undiagnosed, I emailed the article off to them, thinking it might shine some new light. Imagine my surprise when, days later, I visited my naturopath and we went over some recent blood test results. There, in huge, glaring numbers, were the indicators of my wildly reactivated Epstein-Barr virus. In fact, the numbers were so high that it seems the bugger has been holding a party for quite some time, keeping the noise level just low enough that nobody got ‘round to calling the cops. (If you are interested in the test names, ranges and my results, I’ve listed those at the bottom of this post.)

My doc immediately put me on some antiviral meds: one is a homeopathic immune system booster, the other is Valtrex, the herpes drug (and yes, when the pharmacy tech noticed what it was as she handed it over, she did jolt to a stop and stutter for a second. Stigma abounds, even with professionals). That was a month ago, and I expect to be on them for a while. And do I feel better? Well, that begs a different question: how did I feel to begin with?

That’s where it helps to examine what your normal looks like. If I’ve had a reactivated EBV for a while, then maybe my normal—the one I’d grown used to—is out of whack, and I could potentially expect a better and new normal. Prior to this diagnosis, I wasn’t complaining of anything seriously wrong with me, but I wasn’t jumping up and down with boundless energy, either. My common refrain was, “I feel like for someone of my age and fitness level, I should have more energy.” I had my thyroid tested, and it came out normal. I had my cortisol levels tested: also normal. All the other things on my blood panel were fine. So, can someone have a reactivated EBV piggybacking on their immune system and still be within standard testing ranges on common diagnostic tests?

As you might imagine, not everyone believes that a reactivated Epstein-Barr virus is linked to all of the maladies that William lists. (For those grounded in science, hearing about it from a book called Medical Medium, as in “Spirit tells me what’s wrong with you,” is sure to raise eyebrows.) As for the question I posed in the title of this post, I’m not even going to try to offer an answer. What I’m learning through my own personal health journey, however, is that the human body is far more complex than we give it time or credit for, and sometimes, accepting your state of wellness as being as good as it gets might be too narrow an interpretation of normal.

You’ve got just one life in this very complicated body, and if it’s been running on three cylinders for a while, it may require a long and sustained recovery period before you begin to glimpse a golden horizon. To set off on that journey, it helps if you park your skepticism (and that of others, trained professionals or not), take the time to listen, learn and notice, and see where it leads you. I’ve parked mine, and I’ll continue to treat this reactivated EBV and see what happens. I don’t expect to run a marathon, but a little more get-up-and-go would be swell. And at least the herpes drug is cheap.

As an adult, have you ever been tested or treated for EBV reactivation? And if you had it, what was it like for you?

Postscript: here are the names of the tests, the standard ranges, and my results.

EBV Ab VCA, IgM1 – Range is 0.0-35.9 U/ml – My result was negative (less than 36)
EBV Early Antigen Ab, IgG1 – Range is 0.0-8.9 U/ml – My result was 40
EBV Ab VCA, IgG1 – Range is 0.0-17.9 U/ml – My result was 140
EBV Nuclear Antigen Ab, IgG – Range is 0.0-17.9 U/ml – My result was 568

Updated Jan.5, 2017:

It has been a year since I first wrote this post, and I have a few things to add. First off, after taking an antiviral all year, my EBV numbers went up. Higher. Worse. My doctor is attributing this to the fact that I had a chronic bacterial sinus infection, sinus surgery in August and nasal valve repair surgery in Nov. It’s hard to heal a virus when your body is still being beaten up.

Also to note, in November 2016, the National Institutes of Health (NIH), a federal government organization, added Epstein-Barr virus (EBV) to its most recent update of known human carcinogens.

Updated Oct.3, 2019:

Hi folks! Since the last update, I’ve felt better, and then worse, and better, and worse. I didn’t re-test for almost two years, and my doctor continued to treat based on symptoms. As I continue to have significant fatigue, we just revamped a new treatment plan that essentially consists of four things and is based on the muscle testing that she did with me (i.e. your responses might be different). 1) I’m back on Valacyclovir, 2) I’m taking Holy Basil, 3) I’ve got an Isatis and white peony tincture, and 4) I’m back on Lauricidin.

In addition, I’m taking a new/different kind of probiotic, and continuing with spirulina.

As for test results, they went down from my last round of testing, but are still showing active EBV.

Laura’s EBV Test Results	Aug.2019


EBV Ab VCA, IgM1	<10
EBV Early Antigen Ab, IgG1	41.8
EBV Ab VCA, IgG1	135
EBV Nuclear Antigen Ab, IgG	>600

Mental Health: Joyable App Delivers CBT to Treat Social Anxiety

By Laura Zera 8 Comments

When the team at Joyable kicked off development for its web app in 2013, its founders knew two things (well, they probably knew more things than that, but these are the two that are relevant here):

According to the National Alliance on Mental Illness, approximately 85% of mental illnesses go untreated annually (my put: because of shame or time or money or access, or any combination thereof)
Cognitive Behavioral Therapy (CBT) is the most effective treatment for anxiety disorders.

Founders Steve Marks and Peter Shalek decided to tackle this by making online CBT accessible, convenient and affordable, and to start with an app that targeted anxiety disorders. Launched in March 2015, Joyable’s early results–both number of people signed up and positive outcomes–are promising: They state that 90% of clients see a reduction in their anxiety.

The current set-up is slick. The app is salmon pink, probably because research says it’s a happy color or something (also, if you are trying to lose weight, put your food on a blue plate and you won’t eat so much. Crazy, hey?). So, yeah, salmon pink, and super easy to use. It steps you through the CBT process of identifying the situation that made you anxious, describing the thoughts you had around it, and then challenging those thoughts, all wrapped up in a series of self-paced, interactive exercises.

It seems pretty basic, right? But what happens after a CBT session at a therapist’s office, or when you read a self-help book, and then you go out into the world? You forget to practice what you’ve learned! And before you know it, you’re hightailing it out of that class or meeting or party, feeling like a total dweeb, and you don’t know who to call, or your next therapist appointment isn’t for another month.

Ta-da! Joyable to the rescue. When you sign up, you are assigned a coach who is trained in CBT. They offer support and keep you engaged with the app, and, frankly, keep you accountable. In order to make a new thought process stick, you have to willfully invoke it for a while before it becomes an automatic deal. If you know someone is going to be asking about your week and if you practiced CBT techniques in an anxious situation, heck, you’re going to try harder.

I should mention that Joyable isn’t branding itself as a replacement for in-person talk therapy. Rather, it allows that it can be used to complement in-person therapy, or on its own. The recommended treatment period is three months, and while you can sign up for a month for $99, if you purchase three, the cost goes down to $239. Convert that to pounds sterling or euros and it’s almost free! (I mention that because last I heard, there was a two- to three-year wait to get in-person CBT in the UK.)

Last week, the company announced it had received another $8 million in funding to expand its offerings (it raised $2 million around the time of launch). They hope to one day have online solutions for obsessive compulsive disorder, post-traumatic stress disorder and depression, too. If you want to read more, here’s an excellent article in The Atlantic: The Startup That Wants to Cure Social Anxiety.

If I sound like a fan of Joyable, well, I guess I kind of am. I haven’t used it (way back in my days of harsh social anxiety, I leaned on benzodiazepines, because there was no Joyable). They’re not paying me for an endorsement. I just think it’s a fan-freaking-tastic idea. Technology for good. And offering a quiet, private, economical and easy way for people who are suffering to feel better seems quite a likeable thing. Or is it just me?

What do you think of Joyable, or just about the idea of online cognitive behavioral therapy? Yay or nay?

Images:

Q&A with Australia Travel Blogger Michela Fantinel

By Laura Zera 17 Comments

As it’s been 24 years since I set foot in Australia, I wouldn’t even try to dish out travel advice for Down Under. Never fear, I’ve called in an expert! If you have any thoughts or ideas about going there–especially if you’re a female solo traveller–Michela Fantinel is a woman you need to know. (Note: in honor of this post’s subject matter and our guest’s Italian roots, we’ll be using the non-American spelling of “traveller” today.)

Founder of the popular Rocky Travel Blog, Michela is also the author of Your Australia Itinerary, a beautifully laid out e-book with a series of comprehensive itineraries that can be chain-linked together, depending on your time allotment. Plus she’s a good sport for having put up with my questions. I hope you enjoy getting to know Michela and hearing a few of her tips.

Let’s start with stats. How many times have you presented your passport for inspection at Australian Immigration? And what’s the combined number of months you’ve spent there?

Thanks for this question, it put a smile on my face! This is the first time I’ve thought about it. My first trip to Australia was in 2004 (on a gap year); since then, I’ve been 5 more times, but in my last trip (in 2015), I had to leave to get a travel-visa extension. So, in total, I have presented my passport 14 times for inspection at Australian Immigration. And in 6 trips over 11 years, I’ve spent 17.5 months travelling alone in Australia.

You cover a huge range on your site, from the best websites for domestic flights to specifics like tips for driving to Uluru. Which topics do you feel most “proud” about, because you’ve done such extensive research, or the information isn’t widely available elsewhere, or maybe you’ve covered it with a unique angle?

Definitely the female solo travel aspect is what I take pride in! My website covers a niche within a niche: Australia budget travel that’s tailor-made for the solo traveller. This isn’t covered much by other bloggers. Well, there are a few travellers and bloggers who have occasionally travelled solo in Oz, but I am the only female solo traveller and blogger aged 50+ who has travelled alone in Australia extensively, over a longer time, covering nearly 100,000 kilometers and writing about my travel adventures. In addition, the second topic is the local experience; meeting the locals is my specialty, and with this, I don’t only mean humans. As a wildlife warrior (volunteer work) and Australian Zoo member, I am a proud supporter of Australian wildlife.

You’re a fair lady. Not as in “Julie Andrews in the Broadway show,” but as in “a hole in the ozone can’t be good.” What’s your favorite sunscreen?

Oh, I like this question cause I struggle with the intense Australian sun. While I do use sunscreen, this is not enough to prevent burning. The outfit is essential: I wear long-sleeved shirts and long pants almost all the time. I prefer technical outdoor wear (with UV protection 50+) as well as a wide-brim hat and good-quality glasses to protect my eyes, too.

I know you’ve fallen in love with Australia. But have you ever fallen in love in Australia?

This question makes me blush… I am a shy person. 🙂 To tell you the truth, on my first solo trips in Australia, I wasn’t interested in meeting men. When you’re on the road, time is so short to get to know someone. But in the last years, I have taken the time to stay longer in a place and be more open to getting to know the locals. As a solo traveller, I naturally attract lots of locals, and as a woman, obviously men, too! While I have had short romances, I cannot really say that I’ve ever fallen in love…but who knows what the future will bring! :))

Tell us about a place there that really surprised you, good or bad.

There are a few. One I fondly remember is Cunnamulla in South Western Queensland. This is a small Outback town in the middle of nowhere with 1,500 inhabitants. It took me one night by train and an extra half-day of car travel to get there, and my first thought was “what the heck am I going to do here?” Well, it was a big surprise. This place that at first looked like a boring village unfolded a rich natural and cultural heritage that was astounding. Not only did it offer many outdoor activities, including natural spa pools with artesian spring water, and birdwatching spots, but it also had great infrastructure that you don’t expect in a remote Outback town, including a top functional hospital, swimming pools and recreational areas, a local airport to fly into Brisbane and much more! This was a real Aussie experience, full of life and great in spirit!

Your Alexa website rank in Australia is 6,233. That’s 3,774 spots better than the Australian prime minister’s website. Are you finding you’ve become an Australia expert even to the locals? (Note: your global ranking is also 237,530 spots higher than Kylie Minogue’s, just in case you feel like feathering your cap for a sec.)

Yes, that’s true. I have become an Australia expert to the Aussies, too. I’m not bragging about this, it’s a fact. Why? Australia is a big country. If someone living in a remote village in Queensland wants to travel to the other end of the continent, for example to South Western Australia, they are likely to Google for travel tips, and this is where Rocky Travel Blog comes in, with my travel expert’s insight that helps them craft their trip.

You’re all about low-budget, solo female travel, which is one reason I’m so happy to host you, because, like, YES, traveling alone is freaking awesome and really not very scary, and it doesn’t take a lottery pay-out to do it. Can you tell us your biggest budget tip for Australia? Also, who was the oldest female solo traveler you met there?

I would say make a plan, find out which expense has the biggest impact on your budget, and work around it. For instance, if this is accommodation, then try to reduce the cost and stay for free: Ask friends to host you, try out housesitting, look for a female-travel forum where you can be hosted for free, or stay in budget accommodation like hostels. Doing good research and pre-planning your Australia trip at least 4-6 months ahead is also going to save you lots of money.

Australia is one of the friendliest countries for solo travellers in the world. I personally never felt unsafe or uncomfortable. And there are many ways to save money even in an expensive country like Australia. I love travelling alone and enjoying the freedom that comes with it. Of course, it is natural to be apprehensive and feel worried about the first solo trip, but once you get started, it’s difficult to give up travelling alone, because it is very rewarding.

On my travels, I keep meeting solo travellers, mostly women, and to my great surprise, the majority are not young, they are aged 40+. The oldest was 80 years old, a mother of 4 and a grandmother. She turned into a solo traveller out of necessity. Somehow her travel plan didn’t work out, nobody wanted to join her on her road trip around Australia. So at the age of 76, she didn’t want to wait for a travel companion and went off on her own. What her children thought was going to be a 4-week road trip turned into a 6-month solo trip. This was such an amazing and inspiring experience, considering her age. But it also brings a clear message: Nothing is impossible, and limitations only live in our minds, when we stop dreaming. The funny thing is that she was so proud of this trip that she was planning her next adventure, at the age of 80. I loved her attitude, and I believe this serves as an example to many women wanting to venture out on a solo trip in Australia.

Michela Fantinel is the founder, blogger and publisher at Rocky Travel Blog, where she not only inspires independent-minded solo travellers, but also helps them create their travel itinerary and make the most of their time and money in Australia. You can connect with her on Twitter, Facebook and Instagram, and on her website.

Do you have any Australia travel questions or tips of your own for Michela? Share them in the comments below!

What Brené Brown Brings to the Stage

By Laura Zera 12 Comments

My, how time flies. It has already been more than three years since I wrote about how much I was diggin’ Brené Brown and her vulnerability study. Not that what she said in that TEDx Houston talk ever left me in these intervening years. No, no, no. Her message about reaching wholeheartedness through vulnerability—reinforced at times by the wisdom in her books–has been like a beacon, a light that shines brightly at times, and at other times all but disappears in the fog. But when the fog clears, it’s still there, and I’m still going toward it.

So, one thousand two hundred days later, when tickets for her Town Hall Seattle appearance went on sale, I was on that web site right when the clock struck 10 a.m. (Good thing, because it sold out in less than 20 minutes.) She came through as part of the tour for her new book Rising Strong, and, given her inimitable way of explaining important-to-your-life concepts like you are buds sharing stories over a cup of coffee, I think everyone was totally bummed when the time came to wish her farewell.

There have been a number of heartfelt and humorous book reviews written for Rising Strong, like this one by Jill Dahl and this one by Dr. Courtney Stivers. I’m going to talk about the live version of her message that if we are brave enough, often enough, we will fall. What Brené has explored in this round of research is what it takes for a brave soul to get back up and keep going.

Her answers to this line of inquiry aren’t comfortable. (They haven’t been in the past, either.) She asks us to look squarely at our emotions and undertake our own line of inquiry. Awareness is great, but how much deeper can we go? How willing are we to noodle around inside that emotion like a calm and objective aunt, instead of a panicked squirrel? Brené has found that our willingness to go through this process is directly correlated to our resilience. Likewise, our courage to own our stories – the stories we make up for and about ourselves that are usually tied to a bigger, uglier emotion – is correlated to our ability to rewrite the story ending. After the pain comes the power.

When she appears on stage in her jeans and black jacket with the white shirttails sticking out (like a coffee date outfit), and kicks things off with a few swear words (like a coffee date that bleeds into a wine date), and then yanks open her heart and shares her honest and authentic and vulnerable self, it’s pretty dang hard to walk away untouched. And in this lies one of Brené’s many gifts as a speaker: She grabs you in a big Texas hug, and she holds on to you through the uncomfortable part until you can relax into it. Until you are okay with it. Until you understand on a cellular level that the hard stuff she’s asking you to surrender to doing is really what you have been seeking all along. And you trust her, because she is so earnest.

She is also funny like Tina Fey, which, for her audience, has the effect of softening the angst around what you will encounter should you choose to go noodling. She laughs at herself so we can laugh at ourselves. She turns decades of interviews and research into relatable stories so we can get it, “it” being that if we don’t face all of the things which hurt us the most, we are always going to hurt. Taking the easy road out is only easy for so long, and then it turns into a highway to hell. But Brené has faith in us. She knows we can do it. And we can feel that, so we’re willing to give it a try, this reckoning and rumbling with our emotions and the stories in our heads. For her. For ourselves. For humanity.

One of Brené Brown’s early goals was to use her writing to ignite a national conversation on shame. With what she brings to the stage, she is stoking the fire of something more: a global action toward healing. And that may be her biggest gift of all.

Brené, thank you for holding on to us and not letting go.

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