Making our Christmas Day flight from Santiago de Chile to Boston, Massachusetts, USA was tricky. First, we had no idea if Maya’s neck injury — and the side effects of all the drugs — would be cleared in time for the trip.
Then, we were faced with extremely slow and long lines and inefficient officials at Chilean immigration to receive our exit stamp and be able to leave the country. Impatience. Frustration. Running. Sweating. Being the last two people on the plane…
But we made it! And we looked forward to some rest, comfort, and social times in the US.
(As always, click on or hover over photos in galleries to read their captions.)
A red eye flight to the US
The day after our arrival in Massachusetts and the US
Week 1: Fun Times
The day after Christmas (Boxing Day), Mark, Maya, and I arrived at our “home base” (aka official address) in Newburyport. The temperature contrast couldn’t be bigger. We went from 90°F (32°C) to 12°F (-11°C), and the sun set at 4pm! Snow decorated the ground and trees. This would become a theme; our surroundings remained white for the entire time we were there.
Mark’s first job: shoveling snow
Winter walk
Winter scenery
Our daily walk to the park with Maya
Maya’s first snow
Still possible to walk on the sidewalks
After reorganizing our belongings (what stays, what comes to Europe, what gets packed for our next camper, what gets donated), doctors’ visits for Maya and me, and catching up with my mother-in-law, helping where necessary for a handful of days — we already left her again to celebrate the New Year with good friends.
Our home for five weeks
Organizing our belongings
Going through our boxes from the basement, after many years
Memories of our Wirie business, which we ran for eight years
In the middle of September, Mark, Maya, and I returned to Paraguay without a deadline. We would use this landlocked country as a base during the spring until it turned unbearably hot or until we found a buyer for our camper. Neither had happened when we decided to leave.
Yes, two days each week were miserably hot, but it was still manageable. No buyer had appeared, but we felt Chile would be a better location for any prospective buyer to start their journey on this continent. The other reason we changed countries has to do with a concept that’s been emerging over the last few months. I can’t elaborate on that (yet) since all our attempts to reach this goal have been failing so far. But, if you’ve read our previous expense report “between the lines,” you might have gotten a hint about this idea.
Leaving Paraguay at night
Once we decided to head back to Chile — on the opposite side of the continent — we felt an urge to do this as quickly as possible. Like I mentioned in a previous blog: first, we wanted to eat sushi one more time. Over dinner, skipping an alcoholic drink, we decided to cross the border into Argentina that very same evening. We knew of a good camp spot in Posadas on the other side and hoped for a quick and easy crossing that late in the day. It was the middle of October.
(As always, click on or hover over photos in galleries to read their captions.)
Driving in the “wrong lane” and having to back up all the way – The height limit (about 3m?) had not been stated.
Entering Argentina in the good lane
Bella is ready to be scanned. Maya probably not…
Border officials were friendly, passports were checked, our Paraguayan TIP (temporary import permit) for the truck was returned and an Argentinian one obtained, and we had to back out of a narrow lane, because no height limit was indicated for a low arch up ahead…
Then, just when we thought all was fine and nobody had asked about Maya, we were told to exit the car and our camper was scanned by a massive machine! It was loud and intimidating.
Afterwards, the official stepped out of the giant scanner with our paperwork with only one question: “Do you have a dog?” Our “yes” was answered with only a nod. There’s no hiding from this futuristic machine! Luckily, people had told us earlier that nobody checks dog paperwork at this particular post.
A new country, a new truck wreck…
Maya was a bit more at ease on these long rides.
Narrow and bumpy lanes in towns
Lots of road obstacles in South America
Like umpteen potholes
Or poorly filled potholes
Or never-ending patched roads
Or police checkpoints
After one short night in Posadas, we hit the road in an attempt to spend as little time as possible in Argentina. There are a few reasons why we don’t like this country, but I won’t get into that now. Our first day was productive, despite the rain and the mix of road conditions with smooth pavement in the morning and uneven patches, dips, grooves, and bumps in the afternoon. We ended up at a familiar camp spot but had to navigate slippery mud to get there.
Leaving a trail upon arrival at the free campground
“In this camper,” I would say, pointing at our most recent house on wheels.
“Where’s home?” someone else would ask.
“Wherever our camper is parked,” I would say. (Or “Wherever our boat is anchored,” in the previous decade.)
“Where are you from?” yet another would ask, undoubtedly noticing an accent.
“From here, at the moment,” I would answer. Easy does it and simple is what I like.
Our current truck camper and home
Of course, the reality is a bit more complicated. I was born and raised and worked and lived in Belgium until the summer of 2003 arrived and a plane to the US was boarded and I “never looked back.” The harsh truth of this decision on a social, emotional, relational, and roots level only dawns on others when I mention that all my longtime friends and all my family members still live in Belgium. This nomadic lifestyle is not for anyone with homesickness or tight-knit family needs.
(As always, click on or hover over photos in galleries to see their captions.)
Having lunch with my parents – the dish is a favorite of children here: mashed potatoes with meat balls and hot cherries
Sharing a drink and lots of stories with my cousin Griet
Belgian girlfriends
Lenn and Lena pose in front of the butterfly garden.
Ever since I met Mark, the end of 2004, my (second) residency address is in Newburyport, Massachusetts. While we never actually lived there other than short visits back from further afield and those two Covid springs and summers, I am extremely familiar with this town, our room above the garage, friends, acquaintances, and Mark’s family.
The waterfront in Newburyport
And then there’s our actual home. No matter in what form it comes, floating, driving, or being carried by a truck, it’s where I live fulltime and where my companions wait for me – whether this is in the United States or another country. It’s where my heart sings, what my soul craves, where my body relaxes, and where life makes sense. It’s my chosen lifestyle; it’s where I belong.
When Mark and I met Jon and Gail on a remote, gorgeous beach in Baja California, Mexico, this past spring, we hit it off immediately. Jon Crane is a renowned, accomplished, and outstanding painter and his lovely wife, Gail, had just published her book Mystic Travelers around the same time I released Plunge. The four of us had a lot to share – stories, food, drinks, and art.
Jon and Gail (who travel with their cat, Cosme) in front of their truck camper
Gail and Jon sign our copy of her book.
“Mystic Travelers” by Gail Crane
The couple spends half a year on the Baja peninsula in their truck camper and the other six months in the Black Hills of South Dakota, where they built an incredible home based on Jon’s vision and skills. Ever since I read about their place in Mystic and saw a photo of their unique house in Gail’s book, I’ve wanted to visit. So, when we found ourselves in the Badlands, two hours east of the Black Hills, we got in touch with our friends. Would they still be home mid-October or had they already left for Baja?
Exploring Badlands National Park with TT
Mark and Liesbet in the Badlands
We were in luck. Jon and Gail were still around for a couple of weeks and more than happy to see and host us. But there was one problem… They live in the middle of nowhere, deep into the black hills, and the first snowfall of the season had arrived when it rained in our neck of the woods. No worries. We’d amuse ourselves for a couple more days and assumed the snow would be melted when we ventured into the hills.
We stopped in Rapid City to do some shopping and say hi to a bunch of presidents.
(As always, hover over or click on images in galleries to read the captions.)
Mark looks for the president route on his phone.
President Barack Obama and one of his daughters
President George W. Bush
President Thomas Jefferson
President Franklin Roosevelt
President Harry Truman
President Martin Van Buren
Then, we left civilization and were greeted by this. Yikes.
Entering the Black Hills
What just happened?
Mark and I are warm-blooded humans. We don’t do well in cold weather and we certainly didn’t plan on seeing any of that white stuff when driving across the country, except, maybe, if and when crossing the mountain passes in Colorado!
The road condition deteriorated the further we drove.
What is considered a vacation? Getting on a plane? Traveling to a tropical destination? Crossing the border? Visiting friends and family? Taking a road trip to the other side of the country? Staying at a hotel?
I have done all these things and I can guarantee that none of them resulted in a vacation. Mark and I have been together since December of 2004; that’s almost seventeen years. Even though we have lived a life less ordinary, in many different countries, the two of us have NEVER been on a typical vacation together (or apart) since we met. I know this is hard to believe and/or grasp by people who don’t know us well…
My plane from Boston to Reykjavik
The closest we have come to anything like a medley of peace, exploration, and relaxation without worries is a three-day city trip to Budapest in 2017 and two months of “living off the grid” in Baja last winter (this one still involved work, book promo, and the necessary stress that we seem to incur).
Based on all that, I have decided that the best way for me to describe “a vacation” is when I am able to leave my computer behind. Yep, that’s right. Not take my computer on a trip. How is that possible? I have a monthly editing job, receive occasional translation assignments, need to promote Plunge, write blogs on my laptop, save photos in folders on my computer, and have my important information (including passwords which I could never remember) stored on its hard drive. I actually considered this drastic act for my recent three-week visit to Belgium. (I really craved a vacation.) And … decided against it. That’s just too long without my most important electronic buddy.
(As always, hover over or click on the photos to read the captions.)
Ready for a visit “home” after three years
Quiet at the gate
The last week of June, the airport in Boston was still relatively quiet and everyone wore masks.
Quick stop in Iceland
Pretty mural in the airport of Reykjavik
Every time I have a stop-over in Iceland, I happily refill my water bottle with some of the best and purest water in the world!
My good friend Duwan, a fellow nomad, adventurer, vanlifer, ex-sailor, and frugal spender, wrote a touching and compelling post about me and my travel memoir, Plunge, on her informative and entertaining blog Make Like An Ape Man. I have linked to her posts before, as we’ve been on a similar path and traveled together in the past, but this story of hers had me truly amazed.
Her prose is humbling and flattering and provides a different, more personal side to anything else being published about me (except for my memoir itself :-)). Plus, it has some funny photos! Check it out here. You won’t regret it!
Saguaro cactus in the Ironwood Forest National Monument
November 25 – December 1, 2020.
Towards the end of November three couples and the lovely canine, Maya, converged in Tucson. All ex sailors (except for Maya). All now wandering around on the hard. We had met one of the couples, Scamper Squad, years and years ago after reading their blog and discovering they were working on their boat in the same marina as us in Indiantown, Florida. We were introduced to the other couple, Mark and Liesbet, through their blog after my friend from Scamper Squad suggested that I check it out. Like us, they had sailed, had house sat, and were traveling the country in a van. We eventually met them in person in Arizona a couple of years ago. Now the three wandering couples were in the same place at the same time, and we had big plans.
Gilded Flicker in the Ironwood Forest
We all left Tucson for the Ironwood Forest National Monument – about 25 miles out of the city – and set up camp. Thanksgiving was coming up, and even though it isn’t a holiday Greg and I normally celebrate, we thought it’d be fun to share some good food with our friends. After all, this would be the first Thanksgiving that Liesbet, who is Belgium born, would celebrate as an American citizen. But even better than that, two days later Liesbet would celebrate her 45th birthday and the publication of a project five years in the making, a memoir of her traveling and sailing life during her 30s.
Our camp in the Ironwood Forest National Monument
When Greg and I first set sail a few people told me we should write a book. I thought, OK, but we really hadn’t done anything yet. Any wannabe adventurer can buy a boat and think that they are going to be sailors – lots do. And then after we got on the water there seemed to be so many people doing it. And there were already so many people who’d already written books. I wasn’t sure what I could add to the canon of nautical memoirs.
And at first, I wondered this about Liesbet’s book too. But Liesbet has had a much more interesting traveling life than we have. Since falling in love with travel in her teens, she has hitchhiked in Europe, backpacked in Asia, traveled North America in a truck camper, and sailed through the Caribbean and the South Pacific. She has only lived a few years of her adult life in a traditional dwelling, has traveled in six out of the seven continents (planning to tick that last one, Antarctica, off her list in the coming years), and has visited over 60 countries.
I’ve mentioned it before, 2020 couldn’t have been off to a better start for us – at which point, it did cross my mind that it could only go downhill from there. But the first week of January comprised good times with our old boating friends Tom and Karmen, who finished renovating a new-to-them catamaran. We met many years ago sailing in the Bahamas and stayed in touch, crossing paths throughout the country. They swung by twice in their converted camper van while we house sat (in Santa Fe, NM and San Diego, CA) and we visited them in Monmouth, Oregon to learn first-hand – and with all our senses – how they created the successful and innovative pizza restaurant, Yeasty Beasty. Don’t you love that name?
Beach walk in the town of Marineland
Mark hauls Tom up the mast of his catamaran – reminiscing old times.
Our friend Karmen is creative, and not only with her camera.
Game night on SV Sauvage
Giving Karmen and Tom a ride into St. Augustine – Maya happily shares her space
Happy hour with the pizza girls!
Sailing friends reunited!
We also met up with communal sailing friends Dan and Jaye.
Going out for drinks and tacos with sailing friends Dan and Jaye
Marian and Cliff in Jacksonville
Also in January, I finally met blogging and memoirist friend Marian Beaman. She and her husband Cliff graciously invited us into their home for a yummy chili lunch and hours of conversation. Marian, a Mennonite until age 24, blogs at Plain and Fancy and recently published her heartfelt, well-written memoir Mennonite Daughter – The Story of a Plain Girl, which offers a glimpse into 20th century Mennonite life and documents her experiences and life-altering decisions as Marian Longenecker.
Cliff and Marian in front of their comfortable home
Marian and I honoring the hibiscus flowers in her yard
For the last month, Mark, Maya, and I stayed with my in-laws in Newburyport, Massachusetts, where we have a comfortable room above their garage. The summer is the time for us to deal with doctor’s visits, catch up with friends and family, and get work done. Here are a few glimpses of our recent “sedentary” life.
Maya feels right at home on the porch
Visits from the twins – playing with grandma and her hose on a hot day
Having a new dog – with anxiety issues – means you have to take it slow, so the dog gets used to different situations. In our camper, Maya seemed OK alone for up to three hours… that one evening in Iowa, pre-fireworks. During subsequent tries, she always got in trouble, somehow.
When we arrived at “our room above the garage” in Newburyport, Massachusetts a few weeks ago, it was another new situation for our dog. Leaving her downstairs on the porch while we ate three meals a day and cooked dinner, proved to be a non-issue after a few days. Once she was comfortable with the bedroom as our base, Mark and I increasingly left her alone, filming her behavior in real time with Skype. Whenever she jumped on the cabinet or scratched the door, we corrected her behavior, remotely.
While we saw improvement, we didn’t feel comfortable leaving her for longer than a couple of hours. That was an issue, as we had a fun evening with friends planned at a restaurant, two-hours away; four hours of just sitting in the car, without counting our social time. For days, we contemplated what to do. It would be too hot to leave her in the camper van on the parking lot and check in every hour or so. We’d be gone way too long to leave her home…
A Pet Sitter We Know
The solution: the three of us would drive to a friend’s place, join them to the gathering on Friday evening, and have teenagers (their responsible son and three friends) watch Maya. I even happened on a translation project that day, to tip our dog sitter. Before we left, we took Maya for a walk around the block and gave the kids instructions. I worried. Our small group of friends left to join the others. The plan was a good one… in theory.
Disclaimer: This post contains a lot of photographs!
Mark and I left San Diego – and our last (short) house sit – on February 1st. It’s been quite the 9-week adventure! The first month, we focused on work and staying warm in Southern California. Both with mixed results. Early March, we dipped into Mexico for a few days, after biking and hiking in Organ Pipe Cactus National Monument (Southern Arizona), which I hope to post a photo gallery of this Saturday.
Organ pipe and saguaro cacti
By then, our list of chores had grown out of proportion. We chose Phoenix as the city to take care of laundry, a van problem, shopping, collecting packages, and catching up on internet chores. Our attractive boondocking spot on BLM land north of Phoenix offered views and hiking trails. (To enlarge photos and read captions, click on the images – or hover over them.)
Not a bad place to camp
Spring in the desert
Hiking on BLM land near Phoenix
Three different cacti in one photo: a barrel cactus, a teddy bear cholla cactus, and a saguaro.
Roaming About – Liesbet Collaert & Mark Kilty & Maya
We have been perpetual nomads as RVers, sailors, house and pet sitters, and overlanders since 2003. Currently, the three of us are roaming about Western Europe, searching for our next camper.
As lifetime adventurers, we are self-employed and maintain a tight budget. This blog is about all that – and more – to inspire a life less ordinary. Don’t dream but do! 🙂
This Daily Travelogue is a labor of love for our families and friends at home and around the world. Prior to 2020, all our trips were documented on yearly blogs which can be accessed below. THIS WORDPRESS BLOG IS A COPY OF OUR MAIN BLOG WHICH ALSO CAN BE ACCESSED BELOW. Be safe, stay healthy, and stay connected.
