Bucharest, Romania

"Let me help you with that," my guy friends offer as we unload our backpacks from the bus. I snicker to myself - by now, I know that these offers of help are quickly followed by extended groans of, "Aaargh, what have you got in there?!?!"

In my time, I've traveled with bigger packs, and heavier packs, but I do admit that this is probably the densest pack I've ever traveled with. For the most part it doesn't bother me - the load is evenly balanced with the computer and travel pamphlets I carry in the backpack on the front of my body. Which isn't saying much - both are a load and a half, and as I'm wandering around Vilnius or Sofia, tired and lost, believe me, I am asking myself what the hell I have in there too.

Only the barest of travel necessities, of course. The yoga mat. My cafeteria from Giulie, that makes the most delicious cup of coffee. My mini-speakers, so that when I am in my room I can play some tunes.

In my family we used to have a joke about traveling with the kitchen sink. I guess with me it's not all that funny.

But I'm proud. In all these years of travel, what I have not learned about traveling light, or traveling cheaply (I have too much of a salad addiction to do so), I have learned to make up for in class. Back in New Zealand, Miss Ty and I had a rule - if you packed it, you could enjoy it. Which meant, if you hauled the can of chili and the can opener up to the top of Mt. Owen, you deserve a kick-ass dinner.

Sure, it's a haul. But when I get an empty room with a place to roll out my yoga mat, or a strong cup of coffee on an early morning before a day of travel, well, it's all worth it.

Sorry it took me a while to write about this place. I didn't want to communicate back to home until I could think of something positive to say about my surroundings. Finally, tonight I found something I could say.

I'm leaving tomorrow.

They say that Bucharest is not the real Romania. Man, I hope not, cause seriously, this place sucks. The old town is a ripped-up nightmare, the buildings are either gigantic Communist blocks or crumbling historic establishments.

On the one hand, there are a couple of good places to run in this city. On the other, this is the first place I've come to where I seriously advise skipping the run and getting on a train to the next destination.

Which I will do tomorrow.

I can still travel without access to a cash line. I just can't be creative with my travels. I had been pumped about a day trip to Brasov tomorrow, but upon finding out that the train ticket cost twice as much as I had originally thought, I am now bummed by the realization that I literally can't afford to go. So it's off to Moldova tomorrow - the last leg of a long journey.