A little explanation for those wondering how it was I came to Fort Bragg, California for my first stop...
Looking for a cheaper, non-vacation way to travel, I had found a site online called Workaway which was created to 'promote fair exchange between budget travelers, language learners or culture seekers who can stay with families, individuals or organizations that are looking for help with a range of varied and interesting activities.' It is a network of people from around the world (including Hawaii..yay!) who set up profiles of themselves (hosts and travelers/workers) then connect via emails and/or Skype to decide if what the host needs and has available for accommodations is a good fit with what the worker (me) has to offer and is comfortable with. I tried to be smart and careful about my choices, making sure to apply to places that had many reviews by travelers who had positive experiences with the hosts they had recently worked for. It's quite pitiful the amount of hours I spent poring over profiles in search of a perfect match.
The bus (CC Rider #65) from Santa Rosa to Fort Bragg was driven by a portly Italian man who revealed occasionally that he could double as a plumber (ugh) and had a love of Italian music which blared from speakers the entire trip. The first hour and a half of my ride was shared with a gorgeous young and in love backpacking couple from Italy. As they reclined back and propped up their feet clad in hip, well worn Italian shoes (did they hike in those shoes?), I absorbed myself in a fantasy of their journey, avoiding the dread taking up space in my gut about the one I had just begun as a middle aged woman traveling alone. My fantasy couple got off at the Ukiah stop and with the new riders boarding, my imaginings switched to what homelessness in Northern California must be like. The dread in my gut made space for some gratitude as we continued on toward Fort Bragg. The winding, hilly Redwood-lined roads were traveled in fog and rain and the sun went down without notice. I was dropped off at The Weller House Inn around 6:30. Hungry, tired and cold but ready to begin my assignment. I was anxious to meet Vivien the owner, who was expecting me.
To follow, is a detailed description of the part of the house in which I was to spend the next three weeks. All my posts won't be so exhaustive as this, but I didn't have the presence of mind to take pictures that first night and it's not easy to describe in just a few words so that you get the whole picture. Even though I won't soon forget that house, that room, those people, it seems important for me to document it and share it with you, dear readers. Please bear with me:)
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