Our first night we made it to Twin Falls, had the first shower in about a week – it was amazing – and checked out the falls. The next morning we were off to Oregon where we purchased some legal marijuana (can I say that?) It was very surreal, just walking into a store and seeing shelves full of all different types. Obviously we didn’t actually do it…

Day three of the roady was Portland. We had stayed just outside of the city the night before so headed in to start 24 hours of pretty much just eating. We had donuts at two different places (Blue Star is the best), the best pork crackling sandwich from a British food truck, insane Indian streetfood style for dinner and four scoops of ice cream from Salt and Straw – an amazing ice cream shop. We AirBnB’d the night with a sweet couple who we never really saw but were lovely nonetheless. We woke the next morning, lazily walked down Alberta Street, got breakfast, did a little vintage shopping and begun the next leg to San Fran.

We spent that night in a cool beach side campsite and continued the next day down the Oregon Coast which is one of the most beautiful stretches of road I’ve ever driven. It is very rugged, a bit like NZ’s West Coast, with dramatic cloud rolling through and sharp jagged rocks jutting out of the sand. That afternoon we reached just outside the Redwoods and spent the night in a funny little deserted campsite.

The next day was our last day of driving 😦 so we had a massive clean out of the van because we couldn’t really do it in central San Fran and left our camping neighbours with an eclectic mix of leftovers including camping chairs, everything you need for s’mores, and a cigar. The first few hours of the drive was spent cruising through the Redwood forest which was quite breathtaking. It was still morning and the light coming through the mist in the trees was other-worldy. Seeing this forest has been something I wanted to do for a long time so I was very excited.

We stopped for lunch in a day campsite in Sonoma Valley using up the last of our cheese toastie ingredients, and headed in to the big smoke.

The next two nights in San Fran we spent with Soph, Tom, Rob, and Kate, friends of ours from home. Kate and Rob live in San Fran in a beautiful apartment and took us to the baseball and out for literally the best pizza I have had in my life. I’m not being dramatic. I do not say this lightly. There is one guy cooking the pizzas and there are five to choose from. Apparently him and another guy had been vying it out for best pizza in New York for the last 10ish years and one day he couldn’t be bothered with all the drama so he packed up and moved to San Fran. Seriously, the pizza is unbelievable. It’s called Una Pizza Napoletana. We also ate at Tartine and walked the lovely waterfront, but honestly, the pizza. Both nights we slept in our van on one of the few flat roads we could find and early on the second morning we drove to the Jucy depot, did one last clean out, said goodbye to our trusty van (Bruiser), and Uber’d to the airport for our flight to New York.

We chose to make our journey to Guatemala with the Tika Bus Company, and spent the night before our first leg at their bus terminal hotel in Nicaragua’s capital, Managua. We were up at 4am and on the road by 5am for a 12 hour bus ride that would take us all the way through Honduras and to El Salvador for the night.

The bus ride itself was comfy and pretty uneventful, which is kind of what you want for this part of the world! When we got to San Salvador, we settled into the Tika Bus hotel and asked the receptionist if it was legit to walk and get some dinner. San Salvador is, afterall, the third most dangerous city in the world, with 108 people murdered every year for every 100,000 people, that’s 6 a day. He told us we were in a safe part and that there were restaurants realy close so we ventured out. We had intended to go to a semi-fancy Italian place but on our way we walked past some food trucks in a carpak surrounded by plastic chairs and locals all eating and chatting together, so we decided to join them. It ended up being the best meal we had had in about a month; insanely juicy ribs and an epic pulled pork sandwich that was to die for. So good, and so cheap.

The next morning we were up at 5am and on the road by six for our last 6-hour leg to Guatemala which was once again delightfully mundane. We had heard about another traveller who drove into Guatemala and saw two bodies hanging from an over bridge, soooooo yeh, uneventful is good.

Tika Bus are probably the most common company to use for this crossing, and after going through four countries with them, it was obvious why. Crossing three borders can be a mission but they took our passports from us and pretty much did all the customs stuff. We only had to get off once. They were so friendly and really efficient (which is not something you see often in this part of the world.) Yay for Tika Bus.

This year I had my birthday in Ecuador.

I have spent the last nearly two months travelling through South America with 16kg on my back, bouts of homesickness, and an increasing sense of gratitude.

If time is the most precious commodity, why do we feel sad each year we are given more of it? We always get told it’s á year closer to death’, like we’re losing something with each birthday. But we’re not. It’s about gaining one more year of life.

It’s a truth that getting old is a luxury denied to many. So while New Years might be about looking forward, for me I think I’m going to make birthdays a celebration of the years gone, and how lucky I was to have had them. So this year I celebrate 28 years of everything. Of having a body that works. Of having eyes (though they look like peeholes in the snow) that I can see babies, and puppies, and nature, and the faces of my friends and family through. Of having ears (even though one sticks out way more than the other) that hear music, and storms outside when i’m cosy, and the thoughts and knowledge of other people in the world…and the words ‘ I love you.’ Of having a mouth that can talk and create relationships with people, and say what I think and create my own identity. And that can eat burgers, obviously. Of having a nose that can smell butter and garlic cooking, babies heads, and the nape of my love’s neck.

Of having a family I am obsessed with. Of having friends who I don’t feel worthy of. Of being in love.

Of cheese, and negronis, and good books, and fresh sheets, and sashimi, and pizza, and words, and fries with aioli, and ideas, and travel.

Of making mistakes, and learning, and making mistakes again. Of the word ricochet. Of nights being the perfect amount of drunk, and the dumplings the next day. Of post-exercise endorphins. Of live music. Of dappled sunlight on water. Of art. Of fresh flowers. Of jumping off cliffs into rivers. Of feeling safe. Of trees.

Of a beer after a day of skiing. Of fresh air. Of good duvets and good movies and good red wine. Of doing things i’m scared of. Of crisp white shirts. Of opportunity.

Of boozy dancing, sun on skin, and nice sunglasses. Of 6pm on a Friday. Of seeing people I love smile.

Of freedom. Of crayfish. Of singing in my car. Of slightly underdone brownie. Of the smell of washing that dried in the sun. Of prosecco and warm bread with butter. Of choice. Of writing. Of dad as my emergency contact. Of mum as my best friend. Of cuddling both of them. Of Christmas. Of laughing.

Of 28 years of life.