Category Archives: Backpacking

Stories of Backpacking trips, or something in that general area

SPring Break 2014 – Paris: Exploring a city!

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Saturday, Sunday & Monday, 24 – 26 May, 2014

Location: Paris, France

 

Saturday, 24-May

We took a train into Paris, and a “van” to our apartment.

I have to say, these two modes of transportation were, so far, the most spacious ways to travel that we’d seen – coming from our tiny rental car, the cab was positively luxurious.

Once we get to the apartment that Erin found (via Air B&B, if I recall), we got to actually decompress for a bit, which was quite nice.  But this is PARIS!  Paris isn’t a place to sit in an apartment and relax!  No matter how cool the hostess was, or how nice the half-couch lounger-thing is!  We needed to move, to explore, to eat Parisian food!

So… we did.

  • The apartment was in the Montmartredistrict, historically home to artists and bohemians galore… so it’s quite pretty, a bit quiet, and has lots of neat shops.  Ohh, and did I mention the Moulin Rouge?  Yeah, we were literally less than a 10min walk from it.  Less exciting that you’d expect, in the daytime.
  • There’s a lot of neat little roads and little shops and little cafes in this area… it’s like this is the city that all other cities try to be like, when they’re designing little roads with little shops and little cafes.  Heh.
  • We ended up having lunch at a cafe on a corner that looked interesting, but whos name I can’t remember for the life of me.  What I do remember though, was the sandwich and the milkshake.  The sandwich was an amazing combinatoin of ham, tomatoes, goat cheese, and melty cheese on excellent crusty french bread.  The Milkshake… Well, you know the line “five dollar shake” from Pulp Fiction?  This was a $10.00 shake.  Literally, 6 euro 90.  But DAMN was it good!  Strong vanilla bean flavor, just thick enough to be a shake, but not so thick that you can’t easily drink it.  <drool>
  • From here, we follow Erin’s cool little “Interesting walks around Paris” book – choosing a perfect walk for us: the Arts and Tarts walk.
    • Basilique Du Sacre-Coeur: A gigantic basilica that soars above Paris on a huge hill.  Giant stairs up front (complete with a cable car for American Tourists) and an amazing view of the city itself… a view that looks very similar to Cambridge, since you can’t see the Tower of the Arch from here.  Still, quite impressive.
    • Crypts of the Basilique Du Sacre-Coeur: I love crypts.  I’m not sure why… maybe it’s the celebration of peoples lives, or the fact that it immortalizes people who have long since passed away… whatever it is, these crypts were gorgeous and haunting.  Huge statues, dark arches, it had the works.  Nice.
    • Square Suzanne Buisson: Here, we found St. Dennis’s statue.  Holding his own head… there’s an interesting story to this saint.
      See, the Roman’s sentenced him to be executed at the top of a hill, in an ancient roman temple.  But the soldiers sent to execute him couldn’t be bothered to walk the whole way up the hill, so they stopped early and honked his head off there.
      St. Dennis though, was having none of that foolery.  So he calmly picked his head up, and continued on.  He did stop to wash it off when it got too dusty, but aside from that quick stop, his corpse didn’t rest or stop walking until he had reached the temple and placed his head on the steps.
      Yep.  Old-school saints were a bit ridiculous.
    • We found a wizards tower in the middle of a tourist area.  Or maybe a water tower.  It had windows though…
    • Tourist shops!  No!  Stay away!  I don’t care how pretty the paintings are!
    • The only remaining working Vineyard in Paris was visited… the only thing that the tour book said, aside from noting its age, was that the wine grown there was known among connoisseurs as pretty terrible.  Really not worth trying, unless you like drinking vinegar.
    • Espace Montmartre: an interesting Salvador Dali exhibit… but we skip it over, in favor of further exploration.
  • From the completed walk, we needed a nap.  We’re not as badass as St. Dennis, you see.  But we only stay for a little, before heading out once again… this time, for a full Parisian meal, and an interesting set of drinks…
  • We take the Metro, since we’re looking all dolled up and super classy.  It’s… complicated, and has a lot more lines than Boston does.  But the trains actually have rubber tires that provide motion, so they’re a LOT quieter and smoother rides.
  • We arrive at the restaurant that we were aiming for… wait, no we don’t.  Because it doesn’t exist anymore?  I guess?  There’s something else in its place… an irish pub.  No thank you.  Instead, we go with Rebeccas recommendation – based on her immense background in recommending things based on her snap judgement at the time.
    • Turns out, her snap judgement is excellent.
    • Escargot for an appetizer, followed up with amazing roast duck and a bit of chocolate lava cake that I stole from said Rebecca, washed down with espresso.
    • Yep, we’re in France all right.  The Escargot is amazing!  It was in the shell, which was a first for me, but once I figured out how to hold the dang things I had a good time eating the snail, and then pouring out the oil & butter mixture to be mopped up with a piece of bread.  Heaven!
    • The roast duck… I cannot even.  Words don’t describe.  Basically, I enjoyed myself a bit.
  • From here though… it’s still early!  We’re in the city of lights!  So you know what that means?  Descending into a dark basement!
    • Seriously, actually.  We go to a place called “Chez George”, which is a wine bar in a sort-of-refurbished wine cellar.  Literally a tiny spiral staircase down a story, and then three little cave basement brick rooms with tables, chairs, music and wine.
    • Lots of wine – we of course had some with dinner already, but we ordered another few bottles to keep ourselves occupied.  One even came with a tumbler of Schnapps with it!  We were very confused as to why there was a tumbler of schnapps, until we realized that we’re supposed to mix the two.  Not too bad.
    • When we arrived, it was already more than a bit packed with people, and it got even more so as the night wore on.  Dancing happened between the tables and on the benches, people piling into every little inch that they could find.
    • Yep, dudes smoking it up in the bathroom.  Classiness knows no borders.
    • The music… wow.  A lot of French pop, some US dance music, and… Hava Nagila?  What?  Sure!  Why not!  Dance along!
  • After we finish off a few bottles though, it’s time for bed.  It’s late, and we’d spent the whole day either traveling or walking around the city.  Sleep.  With Daniel as our guide, the train takes us safely back past the Moulin Rouge and to our comphy and cozy French beds.

 

Sunday, 25-May

Our first and only full day in Paris was marked with tourism and disappointment and more amazing food and sassy gay Frenchmen.  Mostly the tourism and food though, thankfully – and it was quite fun.  Hell, we even saw hawkers running for their lives as police officers patrolled the Eiffel tower! What more could you ask for?

  • The day started out with our usual waking up slowly, yet with purpose.  Damn, it’s like we’ve been doing this for a week, and we’re all excited about explore a new city or something.  Who would have thought it?  The difficulty though, was when we all tried to take showers at the same time, and some people didn’t understand the correct morning ritual order.  See, you go to the bathroom and THEN shower.  Yes, it may take a little bit more time, but it’s infinitely better.  Daniel and I understood it (bro-fist), but the girls made fun of us for it well into the day.
  • Anyways, we did leave the apartment.  After a bit of fighting with the lock, of course… but that’s just to be expected when you’re dealing with a new place.  Once we were out though, we made a beeline for the metro, and hopped a train to our first destination:
  • Loup Blanc, a brunch place that’s actual open at an actual normal time, instead of the Parisian normal of noon or one.  Now there’s a bit of a story to this place; you see, a few years back a group of us went bar hopping in Boston.  Daniel’s turn came to pick the next place, and he picked a bar “a block or two away” called Flash Cocktails.
    After almost two miles of walking, we arrive to find that it’s clientele was… definitely not straight.  Don’t get me wrong, I don’t mind… especially since the waiter loved Daniel, Mike and I.  But still.  We gave him crap for it.  I guess he’s been waiting to get back at me for that though….
    Fast-Forward to Paris, and Loup Blanc is, aside from being full of amazing food and drink, very much not straight either.  As in “There are magazines full of very attractive men wearing very small clothings” in the bathroom.  Of course though, this place had been “Ben’s choice”, since Daniel showed me three places and let me choose.  Loup Blanc just so happened to have exactly what I was looking for.  Strange, how only one option was really good…
    Anyways, the food was great, and the waiters were entertaining.  Everyone else ordered one breakfast, I ordered another, and the waiter brought four of the same because he couldn’t be bothered to make different stuff.  I was a bit sad, but everything was tasty so it’s all good.
  • Wow that last line was long.
  • Walk to Notre-Dame Du Paris!  Through a sleeping tourist trap… it was neat to see the stalls and hawkers all rousing themselves – tents being set up, stores opening, and people sipping their coffee trying to decide if it was worth it for them to pretend to care about us.  They decided that it was not worth it.
  • Notre-Dame!
    • This place is huge… a lot bigger than I remember
    • Crowds.  Yep.  Though Paris doesn’t wake up before noon on a Sunday, the tourists sure do.  The square out front is packed full, though thankfully there don’t appear to be any hawkers…
    • Rebecca and I split off from Daniel and Erin when they stop to take a picture and get eaten by the crowds – we head inside to check it out, figuring we’ll all link up at the end
    • This is a monument to what people can build, with their own hands and very few tools, when the willpower is there.  Holy crap.  It’s amazing, and I can’t imagine the architect who originally envisioned this.  It took generations to make, and more stone than most kings have in their castles, I would assume.  Simply put – holy crap.
    • The “Crypts” here are… yeah they’re not crypts.  We go, but it’s actually an old dig site, explaining the history of Paris and what was here before.  Turns out that the island that Nortre-Dame is built on was the original city-site, and was actually expanded unnaturally to make the island big enough for the populations that came along.
  • We link back up with Daniel and Erin, and leave for the one thing I desperately want to see: The Catacombs!
  • We don’t make it to the catacombs… we arrive at 3:30 or so, and the line to get in is roughly an hour long… and the last admittance is at 4:00.  We stay in line anyways.  I get sad.  They close the doors.
  • As a consolation prize, there’s the main Parisian cemetery nearby – we check it out, though in all honesty it’s not super exciting.  Some interesting headstones and mausoleums, but nothing too crazy, or that we couldn’t see back in the States.
  • From here, We move on the Les Invalides (I guess its official name is: L’Hôtel national des Invalides?) – not too much to see, but what there is… it’s impressive.  They treated vets WELL back then
    • Looking back on it, I sort of wish that I had pressed for us to explore a bit more – I guess the cathedral here is full of relics and trophies from past wars; things France collected from past conflicts
    • What we did see, however, were the gardens.  And what we learned in these gardens, is that there is only one entrance / exit from the place… and a large moat protecting it.  We had to walk a long way to get back, while Rebecca waited on the other side…
  • A note walking along the streets of Paris… I am jealous of French kids.  I mean… how much better would highschool have been if we could have brought a picnic basked to an amazing city green, and drank wine & beer?  So much better, that’s how much.
  • Eiffel Tower!
    • Whoa… yep.  Just as many bajillions of people as I remembered.  Literally seven wedding parties all taking pictures at the same time.  Interestingly enough though, all Asian families.  Not like “most of the folks were Asian”… no, this was complete families with their own photographers doing destination weddings.  Dang.
    • Hawkers!
    • Ben – “Hey Daniel!  I could totally climb this!”
      Daniel – “Hey Ben!  Don’t do it!  Look at all the guys with rifles!”
      Ben – “Awww…. Darn you, Terrorism!”
  • I do a little dance with a bachelorette-party girl, as we nearly run into each other trying to take pictures.  My “ahh!” of surprise at nearly walking into her is mirrored as she sings a little tune at me, before waltzing away.  What.  Did that really happen?  Yep – Erin and Rebecca are giving me crap for not dancing with her.  It did, indeed, happen.
  • We find our dinner at a mid-sized place right on the Champs-Elysees… though I couldn’t tell you the name of it for the life of me.
    • More escargot, though again it’s only eaten by Daniel and myself
    • Entree actually means appetizer, FYI
    • Main dish = Lasagna… <drool>.  Just remembering it makes me hungry…
  • The last site of the evening, for Rebecca and I at least, was the Arc de Triomphe (de l’Étoile, technically).  Daniel and Erin headed up to the top, while Rebecca and I explored the bottom a bit.  We were heading back to the apartment for some much needed rest (and a chance to do some writing for me), while Daniel and Erin moved on to more romantic locales…
    It’s pretty, honestly, and a lot like the Cathedral in that the Arc is just a massive monument to what people can do.  I mean, it’s obviously a monument to other stuff too, but I see it more as a “Hey!  Look what we can do!  Ahh lots of stones!”  We haven’t really changed much, have we?
  • Heading home via the metro… I think I’m starting to understand their systems, at least a little bit.

***NOTE!  The museum that I next went to after getting home is… unique.  Those with delicate sensibilities may want to assume that I wrote and slept for the rest of the night.***

 

I warned you!
Really I did!
Ok, so we’re near the Moulin Rouge, right?  That means we’re near the red light district.  Well, Paris isn’t ashamed of that stuff… at least not a huge amount.  So they’ve got a museum about it.  Called Le Musee De L’Erotisme De Paris.  And, of course, I just had to check it out.  I mean… how often to you see an actual museum dedicated to sex and its history?  In the city of Love!

As I walked in the door and got myself a ticket (all in French, thankyouverymuch) I started to see exactly what kind of a place this was – The first few floors were dedicated to historic pieces, relics recovered from ancient and not-so-ancient cultures.  Above that was a whole floor dedicated to the history of the sex industry in Paris itself, and above that was a rotating gallery space that was currently occupied by a Japanese Eroticism exhibit.  Interesting.

The “Cultural relics” section was what intrigued me the most, and was definitely where I spent most of the time.  Giggling about ancient dildos aside, it was quite interesting – Ancient pre-columbian statuettes depicting group “activities”, African tribal relics that had been held by the matriarchs, and even “fake pregnancy armor” that said tribes would wear for ceremonies.  Even New Zealand had a few.

I think my favorites though, were the Buddha / Geisha statuettes.  See, they looked normal at first – chaste, in fact.  However, if you flipped them over and looked at the bottoms… well, let’s say that the artists knew exactly what a Chinese emperor wore under his robes.

The rest of the museum was interesting, if a bit excessive.  The section on Paris was informative (At the height, there were 50,000 prostitutes registered in the city), and the Japanese section was strange and confusing.  Though I did enjoy a vintage advertisement for an 1800s Parisian brothel, that contained a review commending the “condoms of perfect quality”.

 

After leaving the museum, I did in fact go to bed.  But not until Daniel and Erin had gotten back home after their excursions, since I was the only one with a Key.  So… Bed happened sometime around 1:00 or so.

 

Monday, 26-May

 

A travel day, without too many interesting stories.  We woke up, we got a cab, we ate a pastry while waiting for said cab, and we arrived at an airport.

We waited in a long line for a long time to get to where we check our bags, and we spent that time napping, reading, and tying Daniel’s bag together with cordolette so that it wouldn’t rip any more than it already had.

Erin got distracted by soureniers in the Duty Free shop.

Ben got distracted by Cognac in the Duty Free shop.  The cognac cost 6,400 €, or roughly $8,700 USD.

There were cute Irish backpackers hanging around near us.  They all had headphones on, so I didn’t get to hear any interesting stories.

We flew.  We relaxed in Dublin and ate some food, and we called Allison back home to beg her to pick us up from the airport, since our previous ride was actually in California.

I napped, wrote, and was happy that the trip had been amazing.  I was also a little sad that it was over…

 

The Great North-Island Adventure: A New Zealand Road Trip – Day 2

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It’s finally time – to pack up my bag again and move on from New Zealand. What calls me onward is not a new country, but instead a return to a home that I haven’t seen in months. I would enjoy staying in New Zealand for another six months, but unfortunately a lack of good job options and my non-infinite bank accounts have conspired together, and the clearest course for me is to return home to rest and rebuild my finances before starting out again on another world trip.

For now, what that means is that I am taking my leave of Christchurch. While the city has been amazing to me, I haven’t had the time to see anything of the North Island as of yet, and so I’ve planned out a road trip in order to remedy this.

Day 2

Drizzle… why does it always have to drizzle and spit when I try to sleep out under the stars? Seriously, I love the idea of sleeping out without a tent or anything, but its starting to get silly how often it rains on me just enough to be annoying. I actually ended up moving into the car to sleep off the final bits of the morning when the rain started coming down enough to worry me, which wasn’t nearly as cramped as I expected it to be… but still not anywhere near as comfortable as the nice soft grass I had been in earlier.

After a bit of stretching and popping of joints, I finally roused myself for action. After paying for the campsite I took to the road nearly immediately, not wanting to waste any time that I could be spending exploring the awesome city of Wellington. I had gotten more than a few recommendations on things I should see and places I should go, and so after a quick trip to the i-site to get a city map I started off to find myself something delicious to eat for breakfast/lunch.

And what food there was to be had… Wellington reminds me of the artists section of New York City, in that it’s full of neat creativity and amazing small coffee and lunch shops. While wandering around I saw some amazing murals and art installations, but I think what caught my mind more was the simple Feel of the city; the fact that creativity and invention was simply in the air surrounding you. Forgive my hyperbole; I know that sounds corny, but its the best way to describe what walking around Wellington actually felt like, without actually taking someone there.

After a rather nice little lunch of Nachos (Ed Note: Finally a city with actual fake-Mexican food!) I moved on the the national museum – Te Papa. The outside of the museum was impressive, to say the least, but inside it actually reminded me a huge amount of the Museum of Science back in Boston – A large open center lead out to each of the main exhibits, with amazing shapes and lights peaking out from each of the exhibit halls. My main goal for the museum was to check out two of the biggest shows that Te Papa’s known for – its Colossal Squid and its Earthquake / Maori history.

The squid itself was gigantic and more than a bit intimidating, though it was quite different from the giant squid that I’d seen in the Smithsonian in Washington DC… Colossal Squid are the heaviest squid in the world (that we know of), but Giant Squid are the longest. A small difference it seems, but it means that the Colossal squid is nearly a meter in diameter, ten meters long, and weighing in at nearly 500 kg (over 1100lbs). However, a Giant Squid is nearly 20meters long, while only weighing in at 275kg (600lbs). And yes, I do feel that this information is quite relevant to my roadtrip to Auckland.

The Earthquake and Maori history section of the museum was quite interesting as well, but didn’t really have anything that I hadn’t seen before, so I worked my way through it fairly quickly, wanting to head onwards to my next stop in Wellington – The Weta Cave! Weta is the group that does props and special effects for many of the biggest Holywood movies – notably Lord of the Rings and Chronicles of Narnia. Since so many people kept coming to their complex asking for tours, the folks at Weta put together “the cave”, or a place to showcase some of their best works and show a short film about what they’ve done and how they do it. I got to see the original statue of Lurtz (the Uruk-Hai Captain from Lord of the Rings), Narsil in its broken state, and many other props from many other movies… And even a few video games as well. The video that they showed was quite interesting as well, and did a great job of showcasing the extent of Weta’s work, and some of the New Zealand film industry too.

After the Weta Cave, I jumped back into the car and got on the highway again, heading up towards the town of Taupo. Most of the way up the highway was just what I had expected – small winding roads traveling through amazing scenery and landscapes. I did have a few fun moments and frightening situations though – I took a turnoff to explore the “Adrenaline Forest”, what I thought was a cool woodland that I could check out. Not so – it was a kids camp. Disappointment.

The rest of the drive was quick and simple, but it took forever. For every kilometer that I had to go, it seemed that I had to drive three or four, and I found myself averaging just about 30kpm… or just about 17mph. On a main highway. I seriously do not understand how that held true, but this evening was just not happening for me. My original plan had been to camp out in Taupo so that I could hit the thermal pools that night, or maybe early in the morning. When 10:00 rolled around and I had been tearing away at the last 100km for an hour, I finally gave up on the fight and pulled off at a picnic spot to set up camp.

At first, it seemed like a near-perfect spot to set up my sleeping pad and just lay out in my sleeping bag. But then the bugs started showing up. I seriously don’t know where they came from, or what they eat when I’m not around, but I found thousands of sandflys literally coating my headlamp and the light in the car. It became so bad that I could barely see the light from the car, there were so many bugs. But it was nearly 11:00 at this point, so I set up the tent in the dark, and somehow was able to keep it out of the bug-radar until I was snugly inside with the screen zipped up and my sleeping bag snuggly around my neck.

The Great North-Island Adventure: A New Zealand Road Trip – Day 1

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It’s finally time – to pack up my bag again and move on from New Zealand. What calls me onward is not a new country, but instead a return to a home that I haven’t seen in months. I would enjoy staying in New Zealand for another six months, but unfortunately a lack of good job options and my non-infinite bank accounts have conspired together, and the clearest course for me is to return home to rest and rebuild my finances before starting out again on another world trip.

For now, what that means is that I am taking my leave of Christchurch. While the city has been amazing to me, I haven’t had the time to see anything of the North Island as of yet, and so I’ve planned out a road trip in order to remedy this.

Day 1

They key to this road trip of mine was a car. I obviously don’t own one, and I can’t afford to rent one, so what could I do? Car relocation was the solution that I came up with; a service where I volenteer to drive a rental car from one airport to another in a specific time frame. I don’t pay for the rental, and in return I make sure to deliver the car by a certain date and time. Not a bad deal, when I just need a way to get from one city to another, but want to actually see the space in between instead of simply flying over it.

So Sunday morning found me dragging myself out of bed before 8:00 so that Mike and I could drive out to the Christchurch Airport to pick up this car. It took us a while to find the renal agency, since it wasn’t one that we had dealt with before, but once we found it everything about the pickup went smoothly… though not quickly I’m afraid. I waited for over an hour and a half before I was finally given the keys to the car, but since I wasn’t paying for the rental I couldn’t really find a reason to complain too loudly. And so, after a quick overview of the car and a damage-check to make sure I would be getting my security deposit back, I headed out with a fancy new Sirion Daihatsu.

Mike and I met up again to have a quick going-away breakfast at a small place I had found earlier called Drexel’s (Yes, I think this is actually related to the school my sister goes to, Drexel University, since from what I can tell their both named after the same guy) where we chatted for a short bit and ate ourselves an amazing Breakfast… I really don’t know what it is, specifically, that draws me to Pancakes to strongly. But whatever it is, there is honestly no breakfast better than a tall stack of pancakes with Bacon and Eggs on the side.

After saying my final (for now) goodbyes to Mike, I headed out again to do a final round of goodbyes to the other folks that I had promised I’d see before leaving – Oliva, Spanish, Storm, and Rachel. In all my visiting took a bit longer than I planned, but I’m quite happy that I did take the time; these people (and many others that I didn’t get to see that Sunday) had touched my lives in so many ways, and I was, and still am, very sorry that I had to take my leave of them. But, either fortunately or unfortunately, the world continues to turn and I had to continue one with my adventures on the open road.

And that open road was… boring. Right outside of Christchurch I got trapped in almost an hour and a half of traffic caused by some accident that required the services of not one, but three fire trucks. The only consolation for me was afterwards when I got to really stretch the cars legs on the coastal highway… I had honestly forgotten how much I love driving manual-transmission cars, and driving this one around was reminding me how amazingly better it is than driving a normal automatic transmission.

But no matter how quickly I drove, or how much fun I had shifting gears to tear around the corners, I couldn’t shake the knowledge that I was going to miss my ferry. You see, I was on the south island, and the only way across is via an inter-island ferry that goes from the town of Picton to the city of Wellington. And it was set to board at 5:05… significantly before I was going to make it there. Thankfully I was able to rebook the ferry passage without trouble when I did finally arrive (nearly two hours late, but thats neither here nor there), and so I went from being two hours late, to having nearly two hours to kill before the ferry started boarding.

I burned up this time by visiting a small pub called the “Toot n’ Whistle” for a quick bite to eat, and then sitting and taking a nap in the car, since I had a feeling I wouldn’t be getting much sleep on the ferry. Unfortunately I was right, and the ferry ride ran into more than a few waves on its three-hour tour to Wellington. Yes, seriously, a “three hour tour”… not a cursed time-frame at all, no one’s ever been shipwrecked for decades from one of those… Has anyone rescued Gilligan yet? I don’t know.

The ferry ride itself was slow and long, and found me starting to understand how ancient sailors could have believed in sea monsters so easily. It was pitch-black outside, even with the running lights of the ship lit on the decks, but every once in a while you’d notice something in the water, some small reflection of the light that would catch the eye and cause the brain to go into conniptions trying to figure out what it could possibly be. And the result was always “something big and scary that wants to eat you”. The fact that the ship would be creaking and moaning around me didn’t help any, let me tell you. Even with my headphones and movies playing on the laptop, I was unconvinced that we’d ever make landfall, and doubly convinced that some sort of sea-serpent was waiting for us just below the waterline.

Once the ferry did finally arrive, I quickly made my way back to the car, and onto the highway looking for a place to stay. At the rental place I had commandeered a whole book of accommodations, and so I had found a cheap place that I was planning on staying that night – just a small campground about 20min outside of the city. It took a bit of searching to finally find it, thanks to the horrendously early hour, but soon enough I was laying out my sleeping bag and pad on the grass, and dozing off to sleep under the stars.