city view of Cannes

We hiked up a really steep alleyway to a castle that overlooks the city and saw a panoramic view of the whole coastline. Very beautiful. We hung up there for a few hours: Ryan wrote a few blog posts while I was slowly consumed by The Paris Wife. The castle itself wasn’t really worth capturing.

view of the main boulevard

This is the beach down the street from our apartment. We spent a lot of time here, sunbathing, people watching, and otherwise goofing around.

the lively Croisette shopping area (where we stayed)

The area we stayed in is the ritziest part of town (little did we know that when we reserved it). There were shops for blocks and blocks, and we had a great time checking them all out and testing the bakeries on every corner. We spent a few hours looking for a coat for Ryan (this has been a regular task in every city we’ve visited thus far), but without success. (He’s a bit picky. lol)

restaurants, restaurants everywhere

There really were restaurants lining every street. It kind of added to the character, though things got a bit crazy on weekend nights. We didn’t really frequent any restaurants here, though (and we preferred it that way). We had a small kitchenette in our apartment that we used regularly.

delicious ham-wrapped veggies by Ryan

Case in point. Ryan had the idea to wrap our sauteed veggies in ham, and it was a hit!

isn't my hair getting long?

Yay, a pic of me. (Ha. Don’t pay too much attention to my [wrinkled] shirt. I guess I care less about certain things after 3 months living out of a suitcase–particularly on exploration days.)

beautiful twilight

One night, the sun went down and the temperature outside was perfect. We grabbed a wool blanket in our room and headed out to a beach chair, where we listened to the waves hit the beach and watched the lights twinkling on the water. It was perfect.

Audi R8 in matte black (!)

I have the best husband in the whole world! He gave me a sexy Audi R8, just out of the blue!

…Of course that’s a lie, but we did have fun admiring the many (MANY) expensive cars in the area. Ryan took lots of pics, but I only wanted to show my fav. (In matte black! I hadn’t seen that before.)

I think I’ve done a good job. I’ve brought in several corporate clients and made a fair amount of money (enough to support us, at least). I’ve learned a ton about the types of companies I like to work for and those that I don’t. I’m more confident in my skin as a freelancer. I’m not as ready to take those penny projects–I know they aren’t worth my time.

Sacrificing for the Future

I started this journey with a ton of grand goals in mind, and I’ve gotten to where I am now with only a few of those goals realized, but that’s okay. The goals were too lofty to be comfortable, and that’s another lesson in itself.

There came a time at the start of my business when I had to choose where to focus my attention and energy. I couldn’t do it all, particularly when I was so new to the freelancing lifestyle. I ultimately felt compelled to focus the past year on corporate projects rather than art-based projects (e.g., blogging, magazines, fiction).

It makes sense that I would do this: I had to support myself first and foremost, and the easiest way to do that was to lean on the foundation I’d created during my in-house life. Many of my clients have come–directly or indirectly–from the connections I had when I worked in the corporate world, so that just shows how important your network can be over time.

Over the year, I often resented focusing on copywriting and was easily distracted by the appeal of my other goals. But honestly, I wasn’t yet ready to tackle creative projects, and I must have known that on a certain level.

Writing a novel, becoming a magazine writer–those are pretty demanding projects that require risk, patience, and self-direction. I needed time to adjust to the idea of jumping into something so big and scary. I also needed experience: in life and in my craft.

I may not have been ready to tackle them last year, but I’m much more ready now, and that says something to me: I’ve spent time focusing on the right things in order to prepare myself for the things I truly want, and the sacrifice has paid off.

Defining Your Own Success

If I didn’t have so many goals for myself, do I think I’d be further along in my business than I am now? Probably. If I enjoyed copywriting more, I know I would have collected clients like fireflies in a jar and reaped the monetary rewards.

I tend to go after things that I want with my whole heart, but copywriting isn’t and never was what I want. It isn’t my love. I quit my job for freedom AND for the chance to work on projects that more closely resemble art.

The transition from corporate to true creative was bound to be a tough, time-consuming one, but I’m headed down the right road. Money isn’t really important to me (within reason, of course), but I hope as I work toward the projects I really care about, success (in whatever form) will find me. What I really want is fulfillment, and I already get that on a daily basis.

I’m a naturally impatient person, but my business has taught me patience. It has also taught me to look at time from all angles and understand that the present won’t last long, the future will be here before I know it. The most important thing I can do on any given day is SOMETHING. If I can make even the smallest part of my projects happen regularly, I will progress.

I’m pleased to see that I’ve worked at a pace that is fitting for me. I had to learn to focus my attention on stability first, and I’ve done that. Now I can feel a bit more comfortable taking on new experiences and tackling those less certain but ultimately more meaningful projects.

I can feel myself taking the leap.

We purchased the pack specifically for this trip, for $99 per bag. Kind of a hefty expense, but we knew we needed a pack that would work for us. Overall, we’ve been pleased.

Wheels or No Wheels?

We flipflopped back and forth for awhile about whether we wanted a bag with wheels or not. We almost got the Osprey Meridian or Rick Steves’ wheeled backpack (each of my family members have one of these), but we ultimately decided against the wheels. We were flying to Europe via Iceland Express, which has a 20-lb weight limit for carry-ons. We needed to save all the weight we could. (We ended up checking one bag anyway, but that’s a different story…)

Ryan has told me there have been times when he’s wished we had wheels, but honestly, I can’t think of a time wheels have crossed my mind. I know I have total control over my bag: if it is too heavy, I can toss out more stuff.

If the wheels didn’t add so much weight, I would go for them in heartbeat, but as it stands right now, no wheeled backpack is light enough to justify the feature on a trip like this.

Our One Major Complaint

The one complaint we’ve both had about our backpacks is the waist belt–a pretty serious complaint, in my eyes.

Our packs do have a waist-belt feature, but it is nothing more than a strip of fabric–no padding whatsoever. This means that even with the waist belt cinched tight around your hips, there is still weight pushing on your shoulders. It’s an ineffective system, make no mistake. (We’ve been trying to figure out who in their right mind would fashion such a great pack and then put a faulty waist belt on it. Someone wasn’t thinking.)

If you keep your pack at a reasonable weight, however, the waist belt works well enough to make everything okay. After a travel day, I can usually feel tension in my back and neck for a day or two afterward, but this is mainly because I need to lighten my pack by at least 5 pounds.

Pros

Other than that one complaint, the packs are fantastic:

• Standard size for international carry-ons (22 x 14 x 9 inches), which means less bulk and more options when you travel.
• Super lightweight (about 3 pounds), which gives you more weight to work with when you fly.
• A nice, open square of space to store items. I’m continually amazed at how much I can fit into my bag.
• Several large pockets–mesh and otherwise–to hold smaller items or dirty laundry.
• Durable fabric. Our packs look pretty much the same now as when we got them 4 months ago, and we haven’t babied them.
• Strong, lockable zippers. My bag has been so full at times that I’ve had to sit on it to close it. The zippers still held like magic.
• Strong, well-placed handles. There are large ones on the top and side and two thinner straps on the front, so you can pick up the bag from almost any angle.
• Distribution straps. Two buckle straps wrap around the front of your bag and pull tight to distribute weight more evenly and diminish the pack’s width.
• Appealing design: There isn’t anything tacky or unusual about them, although they do look different than your traditional backpacking pack.

If I were to do it again, I’d buy this pack in a heartbeat. It’s true that the waist belt limits its usefulness–for future US backpacking/hiking trips, I’ll definitely choose my traditional pack over this one–but it has served us well for our current circumstances.

With such limited space, I continually find myself making value judgments about my possessions. Some things fall out of my favor after awhile and get left behind. I can even name them: 2 frumpy button-up sweaters in Ascot; my travel pillow in London; a too-short shirt and a large bottle of sunscreen in Bristol; my Cetaphil lotion (I miss you!) in Marham.

I’ve also picked up new things along the way: two dress shirts and a pair of stilettos in Ascot (so I could work with my Dad in London), nail polish and a yoga mat in Bristol, hair cream in Marham.

Whether I abandon it or adopt it, the same concept holds true: every item becomes a part of my memory of that location.

Living with such tight constraints can get tedious if you let it. The trick is to think long and hard about the value of something in your life before you give it up or buy it. I’ve found myself missing my expensive sunscreen and lotion (didn’t think those through well enough, I guess), but the clothes I tossed hardly ever cross my mind. I should have thrown them away long ago.

Traveling provides great lessons about the amount of energy things take to keep. We sold most of our possessions to get here, and that took a change in habits and perspective. We’ve then been living out of a suitcase for 3 months, which also takes certain habits and perspective. I no longer have a closet full of clothes to wear, so I’ve had to be really careful/creative about the clothes I keep. I have a long way to go to reach my perfect traveling wardrobe ($$$ is the main factor there), but I’m slowly getting there.

No matter what your lifestyle, possessions always demand some level of your emotional attention (even if you don’t notice you’re giving it). And it is 10 times worse on the road. If I am stubborn enough to keep something pointless (and I have many things like this at the moment), then I am forced to carry that weight on my back until I can no longer justify keeping it. If I see something I really want to buy, the same is true–will I be able to carry it feasibly? Okay then.

Sometimes I’m amazed at how long I keep black-listed items around before I chuck them. I’m on another continent, living a completely different lifestyle, and I’m STILL fending off ridiculous attachments to illogical or unnecessary possessions?! Ugh. When will I learn?

I guess it shows that old habits die hard, but the good news is, I am progressing. I can now recognize which items are worthless to me, what these silly items are taking from me, and then relinquish their control over me at any time.

We humans really don’t need that much stuff to live happily. (Our travels are evidence of this; we don’t have much and yet it usually seems like enough.) It just pays to be smarter about the things we buy and the things we keep.

“Do I surprise you?” I think.

I should get a picture of me with my backpack on a some point; it really is half as big as I am.

The nice thing about carting that kind of luggage around is that my legs are stronger–which makes running easier–and my arms are slowly getting back their definition from my gymnastics days.

I guess it’s all that lugging, lifting, and shoving into tight places in trains, planes, and automobiles.