Paula Brukmüller - Flowers from Greece - The Autobiography of the Journalist Who Turned a Personal Tragedy into an Inspiring World Tour

Julia and Cristiano put a bet on us getting back together.

- I don’t believe it, Julia – I said, looking for some certainty in the horizon – I can’t say it’s impossible, but I’m someone else now. Everything I’ve been in those 14 years with him has changed dramatically.

- Precisely for this. While you were traveling the world, he was spending his time reflecting… You never saw each other again. When you both meet again, it may be so much better – Julia tried to convince me.

- I agree. I think you’ll get back together – Cristiano added to it.

That night I went to bed thinking about it. Was it still possible? Would we be willing to do that? Would he want that? Until I asked myself the correct question: Do I want that?

In Cascais, I decided to use my free time to definitely organize my next steps. And the conversation with Julia made me think about putting Brazil on my list of possibilities. I made another list of pros and cons to end the trip at that time and go back home. The list of pros was much longer and this made me suffer.

I took a shower imagining that the water was taking all my anguish away and went back to the room ready to take the next steps.

I sat on the bed with my legs crossed and meditated for 8 minutes. I didn’t play any music or guided audio. I preferred to focus on the background noises and the sensations of my body. I knew the answer was inside my mind somewhere, and before taking a deep breath for the first time, I asked out loud: what do I want to do?

I was in deep silence, just watching the thoughts that were coming. Morocco, Brazil, Felipe, Oktoberfest in Munich, France, Greece. I let all these thoughts go like clouds. If I wasted too much time on any of these possibilities, I’d look at myself and say: It’s not time to think now, it is time to silence. And then I looked for the sound of a bird singing, the whisper of the wind in the leaves, the engine of a distant car, or the sound of my own breath. I was consciously looking for the feeling of warmth on my skin or the feeling of my body touching the clothes and the bed.

When I finally opened my eyes, I grabbed my laptop and opened the airline tickets website. I researched prices for Bangkok from several different cities in Europe and stopped a few seconds after realizing that Brazil wasn’t in the new searches at all.

I didn’t want to go home, what I wanted was security. I was afraid of going to Asia and all those thoughts about the past connected me to the security I felt when I was still with Felipe. I finally realized I was just afraid of the unknown. I was afraid of the unknown of when I went to Canada and then Europe. Between security and happiness, I finally managed to choose happiness. With Felipe, I know I wouldn’t find that anymore.

I bought a ticket from Istanbul, Turkey, to Thailand. I’d be traveling at the end of the month and now I needed to find a way to get to Turkey before my visa in the Schengen Area expired.

I had applied for some jobs in Greece and I also signed up to a boat ride website suggested by Mika, my German friend. But I had received no response from any of my applications.

So, I chose the same method used to get from Canada to Europe and typed in the search engine “from Portugal to anywhere”. The cheapest ticket out of Portugal was to a small town next to Amsterdam in the Netherlands. I thought I could go from there to the south of France and then take a flight somewhere in eastern Europe before going to Turkey.

I woke up pleased with the changes I had made in my life the night before, but everything changed at a scary speed, even before I could say good morning to Julia and Cristiano.

After meditating, I opened my inbox and the Worldpackers app had sent me a notification from a hostel in Corfu, a Greek island near Albania. They were interested in my expertise with social media management and wanted me to go there the same week.

I told Julia about it at the breakfast table and she said she would go for it without thinking twice. I was also in the mood to go, but the ticket to the Netherlands had already been purchased from a low cost airline, with no refund. Also, I had already checked the prices for tickets from Portugal to Corfu, and they were discouraging. Adding the amount I had already spent in the ticket from the Netherlands, I’d be paying almost 500 reais only on tickets.

I went back to my room and started checking all the routes to Greece. The only option at that time was by plane. I did so much research that I ended up buying a ticket to Corfu from Porto, not Lisbon. That meant I had to find a way to get to Porto before 6 pm the next day and I was about 4 hours away.

I booked a ride through BlaBlaCar and shortened my stay in Cascais. I didn’t understand why I was trying so hard to go to Greece. It wasn’t the job opportunity of my life, it wasn’t an island I dreamed of going to, and economically, it wasn’t that advantageous, especially after I got to the airport and had to pay another 50 euros to check my luggage that was overweight for the cabin.

The good part so far was the opportunity to get to know two cities along the way: Porto in Portugal, where I spent 4 hours exploring the center, and Athens in Greece, where I had a 12-hour connection.

The adventure of this real expedition to arrive on my first exchange job was due to my backpack, which had the two straps broke in Athens centre. To save 10 euros from the airport locker, I had to carry 15 kilos and I felt like I was holding a baby on my walk.

The first day of work at Isadora’s house, the hostel’s partner, had been a quiet one, although I found it a little uncomfortable that she asked me to pick up the toys scattered around the room, tidy up the children’s beds, and fold the pile of scattered clothes, which I couldn’t be sure if they were clean or dirty.

I did the housework in a few minutes, not quite understanding how that could be useful, since the house needed a real cleaning and organizing task force.

I worked more hours than expected on the contract making a new Instagram page for the new guesthouse they were rebuilding and made a photo bank of the island and the new B&B that could be used for future posts.

It was a tiring day, especially after travelling in the last two days. The hostel profile on the volunteer site said free drinks for the volunteers and I was already on my second draft beer.

The main bar was right next to reception. A pink room with white curtains, wooden tables and straw chairs. Luís, a nice Portuguese with beautiful eyes was my company while guests and staff interacted after dinner. Behind the oval counter, a TV on the wall showed Queen clips, and an Australian guy with a funny smile delivered suspicious shots in bright red and fluorescent green.

I was already getting uncomfortable with the way Luis looked at me and was looking for a way out of the corner where he practically isolated me. Everyone talked to each other, toasted and played cards. I also wanted to be part of it.

We were on the wide and leafy balcony, and before I could make an excuse to enter the bar, Luis stared at me and he was more direct than I expected.

- I don’t want to scare you, but I really feel like kissing you.

I smiled nervously, but it wasn’t what I wanted to do. Then I took a deep breath and pulled his hand away from my left arm.

- Look, Luis, I don’t want to kiss anyone, all right? There’s nothing wrong with you. I’m fine on my own and I want to keep being like this – I explained carefully trying not to hurt him.

- Calm down, I’m not talking about a relationship. We can just have fun tonight. We’re getting along right here. – He insisted sounding pretentious because he thought I was talking about a serious relationship.