Human Hangovers

​This is rather embarrassing or it could be interpreted as a huge breakthrough. I suffer from human hangovers. Maybe I’m secretly allergic to humans. I do wish it was that easy, to mock a self diagnosis. But it’s not. I’ll explain in sec. 

Just know that I’ve thought being a hermit could be really cool. Also when watching the film: into the Wild. I thought, this is the life. The book was written in 1996 and the film came out in 2007. Sean Penn directed and the soundtrack is amazing! It’s by Eddie Vedder from Pearl Jam. 

Ok, let’s jet into the human hangover (hopefully you are now reading as you have Eddie in your ears)

I cut out toxic people out of my life a good decade ago. It’s more like 15 years or more. I’ve gone one step further and cut out family too. There are very firm boundaries and I operate within this only. If I don’t maintain these boundaries I suffer the consequences big time. 

I’m going to give real life examples of what human hangover means / feels like in my life. Let’s rewind to May when I had the nose surgery to breathe (I actually see that surgeon next week to check healing progress). So in a May I had the most wonderful friend come stay with me, take care of me, cook for me, tend to me, help me dress is needed. She was amazing. I will always be grateful. Now for the BUT… the pesky BUT. Within the first day where I was kept on the ward and the following 2 day at home, the worst was over. My nose stopped bleeding, I didn’t need pain killers, I was up and about etc. I should have told such friend, that I would assess my needs after 2 days and then let her know if I needed her to stay longer. Remember the housemate was at home too. Sadly I didn’t express myself properly and she left after 5 days. Even then she said I was kicking her out. I was firm in my tone, I was sorry that she felt that way but I was indebted for everything she had done for me. Now I needed to get on with it. ( I also needed my space back).

Now for the hangover part. After she left I was sick for 5 days. Full out, out of action. Sleep and bed was all I could do. Eventually I could watch TV but that was it. I was reliving all the conversations that zap my life force. This includes when I overheard conversations too. 

Fast recap: 

• I the author of this blog, can not do anything about the girls in Afghanistan. I am sorry for what they are dealing with. I can pray for them as I do for all the people in the world. Sure I can sign the occasional petition but unless I become a billionaire, I have little clout in the situation. 
• Yes housemate and I are snobs, we choose to mostly only eat the heads or broccoli and cauliflower. The fact that we don’t eat the cabbage looking leaves or the chunk stalks is our problem. You do you, I do me, don’t judge me in my own home. (Listen! The whole fucking world has their own relationship with money - I’m not here to dissect it for you.) if I eat organic or not. It’s my problem.

Life got very busy since May and I haven’t seen her since, I’ll see her on Friday for the first time. 

More hangover stuff. From the very recent blog entries you see that I visited a friend who’s dealing with adultery. It’s a lot. 

The day before that, I stayed over at friends house, as it was a closer commute to above friend. This single friend has a homeless man sleeping in her garage. She’s given him her only key to the garage. It’s been 10 months and counting. Over dinner I tried to give her tough love but if you know me. I’m blunt and fuck and I fail miserably with this softy softy BS. I have too much passion. One of my many problems. Anyhow, I really really did try and be gentle. If I push my thought and concerns too much, she’ll divorce me as a friend. She’s also my oldest UK friend. 

Then there is Mr.Richmond who’s got kid stuff. The mother of the child has a HUGE amount of issues, problems, trauma etc. None of this is addressed and trust me when I say, the child is being affected. Again I’ve tried hard to signpost and explain what happens to a child’s brain when they are not getting their needs met. 

On the Wednesday, I met another very good friend at the pub for a long overdue catchup. Most of it was fine other than when we discussed a colleague of his,  who is having a 4 year engagement after 10 of dating prior to engagement. I said that odd. (- side note, I am allowed to have my own opinion. I can say what I think. The couple in question weren’t at the table and all I said is, that’s odd. Listen when it comes to these matters - in my opinion. It’s simple. Shit or get off the pot. Fabulous saying) Anyhow, he went off on one saying how judgemental I am etc etc, how I’m so negative etc. listen folks, if you don’t like my company than use your legs. It’s simple. The next day the same friend decided to text me about an instagram repost. It was on Covid. There is no way that I’m going to get into that with him or with anyone to be frank. You either went with the narrative or you didn’t. If he had a problem with what I reposted or wanted to get into it. He could have done that with the actual author of the post. 

And remember surgery recovery friend. She wrote a long text about the family car being broken into in germany while on a road trip holiday. This is terrible, but she also explained how they took her suitcase and she had to wear the same clothing. Also they drove the 17 hours back to the UK a week later without having the window repaired. Folks… my brain does not compute. It’s a lotus dos failure ( please google lotus dos - yes I’m that old). Why am I feeling sorry for someone who is CHOOSING to wear the same clothes when there are millions of stores in the country where she is in. AND the car German. Why would you not get the window repaired there. More importantly… why I care!!! This is none of my business. Everybody else’s life is not my problem.

Now for me and my hangover. I think the problem is, I Love these people. I do, I really do. BUT they are on their own path. I need to care less, I need to detach. I have wanted a personality transplant but that doesn’t actually exit. 

I was back at home on Saturday, away from everyone, just sitting on my sofa getting ill. Firstly I stupidly googled the squatter in the garage. As 6 months have passed now, he has legal rights, she’s also supplied him with electricity. Her word for the situation is: I’m an empath. Oh and she’s super close to her siblings and she hasn’t told them. She is aware that they will worry. 

The other friends listed above will just carry on. 

I need to stop caring or I need to no longer have close relationships with humans. 

I hate transactional small talk but then important big talk gets me sick. 

I have to figure this out. The detox everything and everyone will help loads. Maybe I just need to see who I am in December. 

The English Patient is one of my favourite films! Glad it won a load of Oscars. There is a scene where metaphorically talks about cutting out his heart and in the morning it is full again. 

God is that me too! I just don’t know how to not love and care. 

Coach Renee will say, I just need to observe.

I also need to stop getting ill. The illness is real. For the last 3 days, I have slept when I can, I’ve coughed, sneezed, had a fever and felt like shit. 

Am I fucked? Maybe

Guess who is seeing humans again 

Friday, Saturday and Sunday!

Fuck me!!!

Detox plan & detach from Everything

Here is plan for the rest of year. 

This is going to be sooo boring for you the reader but I’ll try and make it snappy. 

Coach Renee has suggested I go on a 3 month detox. Do almost nothing other than my employment for September, October and November.

The rest of August and December I can go wild, see people, do things etc. 

Now for September. There were a few things already in the calendar so I’ll enjoy that but nothing else. My mom will be in town for a few days in October so that’s going to be another blip. 

However, the rest of the plan. Will look like: Staying at home, cooking, trying to loose this f’ing weight, not seeing people, just quieting the soul. 

Today I had a lightbulb moment. What if I gave up TV and film for those 3 months? And even better, what if I got off of social media too. Imagine. I can hardly imagine.

I could read my ten million books, I could blog more, maybe daily. Time to walk, time to meditate. Maybe I would even do some yoga. 

Maybe I might even like cooking. I mean I have been cooking for decades, I just don’t get anything out of it. No joy, just a chore. 

What if I went into the office daily too. That would be huge change. I mean I could, but that maybe a push too far. Even as a type, the office part sounds tough. Think I’ll stick to the mandatory requirements only. 

Also my homeopathy 3 year program starts in October so I could start my academic year with lots of time to focus and learn. 

I’m going to chew on this and let’s see. I wish we could all bet on me. Maybe it’s high time that I bet on me. 

I have to stop filling my time with action. 

The last 5 days

Sorry that I didn’t post as planned. I was basing this on the cruise where I had time to myself every night in the cabin to unwind before bed. 

New York was not that. I was out walking daily and ended my evenings almost comatose. I waked about between 20 to 40 thoughts steps a day. That’s a lot for these teeny tiny size 36 feet (35 in heels 👠 in case anyone is shopping of me) PS. Girls and boys, learn your European shoe size. Stay cool. 

So I’ve been back from the big apple for 5 full days. Maybe this delay integration has been necessary. Before i get into New York magic, let’s talk about the other regular characters in my life. 

Housemate is good and home life continues to be smooth sailing. He continues to cook for me and feed me! I continue to do a bunch of the pink jobs and he does the blue ones. Remember there is very little conversation here, it’s just working. You would hope so after living together for 8 years. He’s also got better at saying thank you. Unfortunately too many people in my life forget these words but it’s getting better.  Tonight I fixed his fire stick. This man was born in the 70’s and tech is not his thing. Additionally he can build a house with his hands. This is hot. And no! I have no, I mean no feels for him. He’s my annoying brother if anything.

Had the monthly family call. Yes 60 minutes is all I can handle for the people that gave me life. As I write this, I do feel the pain but I also know that I’ve been working my whole entire life to heal from deep trauma. It’s all down to the cards. In some respects the deck I have been dealt with is not great, but I am able to play for the long game. This just means, 1 family holiday a year and 1 x 1 hour call a month. 2026 Holiday was a cruise. Quite cheap too? Under £1500 including flights. 2027 Holiday is going to be a bank buster! Claude Ai said it would be £6500. It’s Kenya / Tanzania safari resort holiday. Yikes!!! This is also because I refuse to share. Unless you are allowed in me (spouse or husband to be) then I rather have my own room. Single exception is Oxford friend, as we have been friends for 22 years and can share tents. (Glastonbury - the home of my soul) (take a look 2015 blog about the last time I was in Africa)

So! On this months call, it was better than last months when my dad couldn’t get the camera to work, he then looses his cool and leave the call. Dementia dad is not easy, but because I’m so lax about it, I just go with it. I don’t say, remember when, or remember you said. I mostly just say, I think you should write this down. My dad has been writing things down for ever. He just has a million books, diaries and calandars. The sibs (siblings) have made even more calendars for him. The only small talk that my dad can make is about money. If he lived in his big empty house it would be cheaper than his old people apartment block. We all had to tell him it’s a bad idea. Then he asked about going on holiday, then he asked if either sib could accompany him to see me. That’s was another no. I told him family trips are better for everyone. Then my brother tried to remind him that he needs to be in remission first and that an ambulance has been called out to bring him to hospital twice this month. He needs to get better first. My dad listens to me, sometimes for his sake I need to be really really blunt. I think it helps because he’s really on the spectrum. I told him that if he is abroad or in India where he would like to go, that is anything happened to him. I would not be in a position to go see him. I told him that dying alone is probably not what he wants. Guys!! I know I sound like a totally bitch but the bro and sis want him to stay out and get better. So my comments help towards that. 

There was some conversation on the trip. Mom was born in Kenya, Dad was born in Freddy Mercury town. That’s the reason to visit these places. My mom hasn’t been there since she was 7. Looking at google maps, it’s a whole lot of dirt. This trip is open to the wider family and I’m opening it up to all of you. The more the merrier. Safari is amazing, that was the best part of the 2015 trip. The other great part was sleeping in a tree house with no electricity. Loved that too. I have 14 months to prepare my nervous system. 

There was a part on the call where my sis and dad were going back and forth about a medical appointment, day, time, place. I asked if they could sort that after the call amongst the 2 of them. My sister then threw a tantrum, huffed and puffed and left the call. Folks it’s safe to say her mental health has not improved at all. She’s been off with depression since April and I have no idea when she’s going back. I hope she has a job to go back to. PS. She continues to holiday. Yes you heard that. Most of us do well on a holiday. Just don’t forget it’s an escape from  your real life. Sometimes a trip is reset but I fear her whole life is an escape. (Same as my mom)

Remember I told you in a recent entry of my friend whose husband has been cheating. I spent most of the day with her and her girls. Lots of talk on marriage. Now I’ve not been in either of their shoes but we are the same age and I have seen a whole lot in my life. I’m not saying any of it is easy. But this is what I know. 

You can’t drop the ball, you can’t become complacent. Know the adultry stats. Here is a cut from the internet. However, relationship research and data from family therapists indicate that pregnancy and the first year postpartum represent a high-risk window for marital strain and infidelity. 

I think if my “one day” marriage all the time. Not everything is pink and blue jobs. In her case. All and I mean all jobs were hers. He brought home the bacon in a stressful demanding job. 

What was really nice about the 2 of us meeting is we could have honest conversations without judging. On paper and assists her life is amazing. I told her that I would be happy with so much less but a partner that was present. She understood. Also you need to have date night, you can let that slip. Staying together for the kids never works. There needs to be more. I know so many people that split when the kids went off to university or when they retired. They just don’t know why they are together etc. 

Whilst yapping away I came up with a new analogy. Her and her husband had a garden forest. Then there was a terrible storm, hurricane style. Now they are planting seeds (starting monthly date night after a decade) BUT they need to get external help. Clean up crew to remove the fallen trees. Aka. Couples therapy. I really hope they choose therapy. I’m wishing her lots of luck. 

This blog entry was supposed to be all about NYC. 

Guess that will be the next one. 

If I could have anything

​If someone / god / universe were to ask me if I could have anything right now, guess what it would be?

Not millions, not a husband, not children (which I desperately want), not a homes is multiple locations.

It would be a healthy, calm, regulated nervous system. 

Yes I want all those other things too but my first wish is for my nervous system. Unless you know what dysregulation is, you may not understand what I’m taking about. Or me to be frank. 

Let’s start with life recently. I’ve been very stressed and I haven’t dealt with it that well. Though I have dealt with it. 

I’ve been up at all hours and take a nap during my lunch break. Up at 2am, and all sorts of bizarre times. 

The housemate was not impressed with my 4am bath the other day. I tried ti be quiet but I suppose in a house that was built in 1897, you can hear the plumbing. 

I’ve also been soothing myself with the adult pacifier, this is known as scrolling on instagram and watching YouTube. Amongst this bad habit, I have enough awareness to choose the lesser of the online evils. I mostly watch reels of couples fixing up homes in their own as well as gardeners who clean up neighbourhoods. I think I’ve been numbing to fear / overwhelm and disappointment. 

So life has been giving me a load of lemons, then in the last few days I’ve received some sugar. Now it’s time to make some lemonade. 

There was an ongoing work drama that’s lasted 3 months, finally this week I got resolution that it’s all done and dusted. 

Then my health has been wild and I’ve had a trillion appointments whilst waiting for the important one, gastroenterology. When I asked to see someone in May, the appointment I got was for February 2027. (The NHS is on its knees)! My digestion stuff is painful and annoying. I’ve spoken to the GP about getting a specific test privately, but even then, he can’t prescribe the medication. So I just have to wait. Well this week, I also got a call that they can see me in early September! Way better that February. 

Can you see the sugar that’s come recently. 

I’ve also been stressed with my NYC trip. This is annoying too because I bloody know better. I’m the one reminding friends that you don’t have to keep up with the Jones. Just do you, live your life, do what makes you happy. The end

I seem to have had a brain fart and forgotten all of this. I’ve spent hours having internal debates on should I book 10 thousand things and fill every free second of my trip to then report back to the Joneses that I saw it all. This would also result in me being very ill afterwards. On top of that, I have been known to judge other people’s holidays on how busy they have been. I’ve actually thought it was quite sad and did they even have a minute to absorb. I don’t like travelling like that. I won’t travel like that. It’s also the final reason of why I travel on my own, I don’t have the energy or strength to take other people’s considerations. I’ve spent my whole life taking care of other people. Nobody’s taken care of me. Now it’s high time that I do that for myself. 

The final conclusion on NYC planning is simple. 1 set appointment at the jewellers, 1 brunch, 3 day tickets to hop on and off the bus, 1 cruise. Oh and let’s not forget the main purpose of this trip, a concert to see The Red Clay Strays. The rest of the trip I will just wing, and the beauty of my life and this existence is that I can come back to NYC whenever I want. 

Let’s circle back to this shit show of dysregulation. In a few words. I’m fucked!

Even though I had finished packing 2 full dates before the trip I didn’t sleep. (I should even sleep now on this flight ✈️ but I’m talking to you).

Housemate had to have a very early start for his job so he was leaving the house at 5:20 am. This was ideal timing for me as he could drop me off at the tube, and it’s just a single tube to the airport.

As I walk down the short drive to the road, I notice that the main bin has gone missing. We have 3, garden waste, recycling ♻️, and the main bin for waste.  I’m running late (or that’s what I tell me head) so I very quickly walked up and down about 2 houses in each direction to see if I can find the bin. I bought these snazzy customised stickers on Amazon that have the name of my road and door number. It’s very easy to spot my bin. 

I tell housemate and now he’s looking for it, not ideal when I have a plane to catch. The entire short car journey conversation is about the bin. Please tell me that there is some sort of metaphor to this story. I tell him that I’m going to message the street WhatsApp group to see if they have seen it and also ask them to check their door bell cameras for suspicious behaviour. 

Now my seriously fucked screwed up brain thinks that a crime has taken place. I shit you not, I’m not joking. In my head,  my bin has been stolen in the night and is being used for a crime. Bodies have been cut up and are being disposed. I’m also panicked my finger prints are on the bin and you can’t deny it’s mine due to the stickers. Fucked brain then jumps to the fact that I’ll do an online police incident with the Metropolitan Police Service. I then panic and wonder if I can successfully do this in New York with phone location settings etc. 

If anyone is offering a brain transplant, I would like one. 

Fast forward 3 hours and I’m having a breakfast after I passed security. The streets WhatsApp has seen the message, and here is the reply:

Just down past my house 

It happens they just pop them wear ever 

It’s outside yours now.

And that’s it. Done. Bin found. My brain is still scrambled but I don’t have to worry about my fingerprints and a murder. If you are into these types to things. I highly recommend the show called The Cleaning Lady. 

Ok, I’m on a roll. Let’s talk about more drama. If seems my mother has found me on instagram and is following my posts. I follow this 80’s account that makes me very nostalgic, not only is it 80’s but it’s the 80’s in North America which differs from 80’s UK. The post is about this doll called Cabbage Patch Kids. It’s a doll with a big head, and it’s special because when you get one, you get the adoption / birth certificate with it. I don’t know why the doll or the certificate is so important but it was. Maybe it was heavy marketing. We also can’t forget that I was raised by a television. 📺 Well behaved children in my home got ignored. 

Ok, so the post. I re posted this post and added some text at the top. It was something along the lines of “Oh more trauma when your childhood has been binned.” I it was something like that. 

My moms text to me: 

Hi , your cabbage patch was not binned. I’m sure it’s in one of the boxes in my garage. 

My response:

One day I’ll have the means to ship all of my belongings and see then. Your other children were ruthless with my possessions. The lack of care is a constant in my life. 

There is no point in ever discussing my past. I still actively work on healing

She gave me a thumbs up. 

Let’s move onto other things. I’m actually depressing myself and that’s not the point of this blog. 

So Mr.Richmond is friends with a British Airways pilot. From time to time, he will reach out to pilot friend and get an upgrade. 

Now dear readers. I’ve been wanting / manifesting an upgrade for eternity. Every time I check in at the desk I ask in a lighthearted way, never pushy etc. 

Last night I asked Mr.Richmond if he had any luck with his friend and he explained on this circumstance he couldn’t ask. He had already asked for himself very recently. So that was that. It’s the classic “I would if I could, but I can’t so I won’t.” Honestly it’s fine, Mr. Richmond shows me love in other ways. He always feeds me and food is love. 

Now into airports and flying. Can we bring back the 80’s where flying is a real thing and you wear your Sunday best. When did this casual garb become such a thing. Shorts and flip flops. Are you serious?

I’m fully emerged in my dresses phase, I bought 3 on the day I sorted out my iPhone. I was going to tell you about the dresses but never got around to it. 

Here are the 3 dresses all from Nobody’s Child. 

I’m chose to wear the gingham and black one for my flight ✈️. Along with a dupe of Pedro Garcia’s slip on moccasins. Oh how I want the real thing. Nonetheless, the universe found me a super comfortable pair from M&S. To recap. I look the part, hair, makeup, dress, cool shoes. 

Now Brits need an ESTA to enter the USA while Canadians don’t. I’m a smart cookie when it comes to these matters (if only I could be smart with all matters like missing bins). So to save the agro and time, I leave the UK as a Canadian. Last night when I was doing my check in I got a message that my passport would need to be checked, I was still able to check in my seat 30. So this morning when I was checking in, I needed human assistance. I mention this as you can do almost all parts without a person. (Sad times). 

After simply explaining the situation the BA lady asked me to remain where I was, and she would be right back. She proceeded to the computer with my Canadian passport. She returned with a printed boarding pass placed in my passport. 

Recollecting from check in instructions the night before, I’m boarding group 6. AKA, the back of the plane. 

I’m sitting at checkin watching the number go by, once they called group 5, I thought, fuck it. Five Six, it’s the same thing, the’ll let me on. I approach the lady and show her my passport and boarding pass. I open it so that it’s visible to her. I never once looked at it.

The first things she says is, oh we’ve met! And I say really 🤔 Oh (and I smile). (Guys! My last flight was in May, I don’t remember her). She then proceeds to say, you’ve been upgraded. 

Hello! What! WTF! (That’s a good WTF incase you didn’t know). All of this was said silently in my head. The only thing I said to her was thank you. 

(Folks, don’t forget it’s the attitude of gratitude) She then directs to a queue of passengers and I make my merry way to the flight. It’s now at this point that I decide to look at my printed boarding pass. Guess what! Seat 20A window, Group 3. Something very wonderful happened in the last 24 hours. 

Ok, let’s talk about real manifestation, how does it really work, what do the experts say about it etc. What does the film The Secret say etc. 

Are you ready for the magic answer…. Well they all say exactly the same thing. You need to feel like you have already received it. You need to live, actually live in the way you want your future to look like. It’s not about dreaming, it’s about feeling it, living it. 

So the entire time I’m at the airport, I’m carrying myself like an important person. Like a person who doesn’t fly economy. I also went to look at pretty diamonds. 

Can we take a diamond pause. When did diamonds become my best friend? I must have been very little and I’m guessing it’s the sparkle. I have always loved jewellery and I only ever feel naked when I’m not wearing jewellery. I need and want all of it. Ear’s, wrist and neck. All of this needs 18ct gold as a basic and diamonds if possible. 

I can’t remember if I mentioned this is the May posts, but I’m wearing my dowery in my ears. They are absolutely stunning and I love them. My earrings have elevated my face,  my mood, my look and they make me sooo happy! 

So folks, tomorrow at 10am I have an appointment at the Cartier Mansion on 5th avenue to look at getting the necklace to match my earrings. I can’t not wait, I’ll be wearing my new green frock. (See images above for a reminder).

I’m really hoping to write ✍️ blog daily, and I’m also hoping for improvements in my brains reactions to events around me. 

Before I sign off, here is another thing that I need to work on. Firstly I need to stop thinking that I’m being judged all the time, secondly even if I am being judged, I need to not fucking care. 

Let’s move onto pasta… there is relevance to this story. Now I grew up in an Italian neighbourhood which means there are a whole lot of Italians about. This also means that the local grocery stores had a huge selection of pastes. I’m itching right now to list the names of different pasta shapes that I know, but I’m going to resist and you’re going to believe me. 

Side detour - I don’t like being dumb, I don’t like not knowing the definition of a word, or not knowing what something is. Moments pass me everyday, depending on where I am or who I’m with will establish the outcome. If I’m on my own and my phone or computer are near, I’ll google the word. If I feel very safe with you, I’ll say, I don’t know what that word is, please explain. Sometimes I’ll totally get the gist of the word and want to hear it in different sentences. If I’ve ever been with you and asked this, again this deeply means I feel safe with you. I don’t feel judged.

Here is my menu. Yes you heard that right! I got a menu. Folks I know I sound like I’ve never been on a plane before. Trust me I have, I’ve been flying since I was 3 months old. I’ve just never had an upgrade. (Saying that I flew business class to Athens but on smaller planes with shorter flight times, you almost can’t tell. Plus no main meal)

Ok the menu. 

 

As the waiter / flight attendant came to me, I asked, what is: cappellaccio. My guess was it was a pasta or a meat. 

Unfortunately the waiter didn’t get to answer, the lady next to me did. Now she’s posh. I actually don’t care about that, I’m way more fussed in with the tone of her voice. It was that “oh how funny that you don’t know this. Oh you peasant child” - That’s what my nervous system felt. Uber amounts of judgement. You know what’s sad, I LET this lady make me feel small, inferior and not worthy. Guys!!! I know better. I know that she is nobody in my life. She has no significance to my existence, to my wellbeing, to my future, to anything at all. She doesn’t even have the ability to say the basic hi. 

Guess what folks. When you sit down on any seat in a plane you always say hello. This applies even if you want to sleep the entire time, you say hello. 

Obviously as I’m writing this, I’m good again. Everything is ok. But for the last 3 hours when I was sitting in shame my body was not good. I physically can no longer hold any stress or big emotions, I have to run to the loo. I went 3 times. Sorry about this extra info, but this is life right now. Additionally going back to the NHS appointment in September, I may have SIBO small intestinal bacterial overgrowth! (Oh sexy!)

I’m happy, scared and excited about this solo holiday. It’s been a long while since I’ve done something like this where I don’t know anyone. It’s just me. Many of my previous trips have been retreats where you meet others or the Camino in 2024 where you really meet loads. I think that last trip was my 2 day Cunard cruise in May 2025.