First shot on the west coast and it's while I have a panic attack at baggage claim. Every part of me is screaming to get back on the plane and go home. I have no idea what I'm supposed to do now.
Made it out of the airport, and to my Hostel so yay for small blessings. The few people I've met in the city have been very helpful and all seem to have a smile on their faces. Which is weird to me.
It's beautiful out, but I'm scared to leave the hostel. I don't know where to begin and I feel wracked with self doubt. What the hell am I doing out here?
The air smells of salt and warm timber. Waves lap lazily among the ships off of Puget Sound. Mountains frame the bat. I am far from home.
Morning; Kyle was working the front desk at the hostel when I, bedraggled and jet lagged asked where I could find the strongest dark roast in walking distance. Sleep was fleeting last night. He pointed me to a cafe down the street. Rather than that be the end of the conversation he took notice of my Sox cap and asked what I was doing so far from home. I told him about the project, and he listened with interest. He wanted to know where I was off too, and told me I had to go to Cape Flaherty. Narnia, he called it. I asked for his photo since he had influenced my journey. He smiled wide and when I asked him not to cheese it so hard he replied that he didn't know any other way.