Gypsy Adventures: Part 1

I hope everyone had a fantastic holiday weekend! I know I did. And just as promised, prepare yourselves for awesome details from my quasi-spontaneous adventure this past weekend (which I will have to break up into multiple parts or it will become a novel). For those of you who don't know (and I think most of you don't), I took a trip with P.Bear to Hocking Hills State Park in southern Ohio. Now I know what you're probably thinking...."Ohio?! Why the hell would you take a trip to Ohio unless you're going to Cedar Point?!" Well, I can sum it up in two words- Gypsy Wagon. Yes. I made (more like asked nicely and thanked him a billion times) P.Bear drive 7 hours so that I can stay in a Gypsy Wagon. P.Bear's reaction was probably similar to what you're thinking right now...

"Ummm...what exactly is a Gypsy Wagon, you crazy hippie?" followed by "Let's just grab a tent and sleep outside."

Now, I'm the kind of gal who prefers sleeping outside to sleeping in my own bed, but there was no way to talk me out of this one. My thought process was along the lines of-

"Gypsy Wagon.  I WANT TO STAY IN A GYPSY WAGON. We will stay in a Gypsy Wagon or I will make this the most miserable weekend of your life." But in reality, my response went something like this-

"Well, camping out would be great, but wouldn't it be awesome to try something different and stay in a Gypsy Wagon?"

As I posed that question, I knew that even if I had to go by myself, I was going. And once I make up my mind about something, there's no stopping me. I blame the Taurean stubbornness. Others blame other things that I will not talk about because they're not true (denial? maybe.).  Either way, I was sleeping in that Gypsy Wagon. In fact, the whole time this conversation was occurring I was daydreaming of myself in headscarves dancing inside the Gypsy Wagon in a long brightly colored skirt to acoustic gypsy music. And I may or may not have acted out this daydream in P.Bear's living room while making reservations online, which may or may not have confirmed to P. that I meant business. So, we were going. And we were staying in the Gypsy Wagon. And I was in gypsy bliss.

You may be wondering, "how did you find this Gypsy Wagon that sent you into a maddening obsessive gypsy craze?" Simple, I googled gypsy wagon and saw this (don't ask why i randomly google things like gypsy wagon, but i do) -

...and the rest is history. And I'm not ashamed to say that the only reason we ended up in Hocking Hills (which is BEAUTIFUL by the way), is because of the picture above. And I'm sure that by this point you are so sick of hearing the words 'Gypsy Wagon' in your head that you're ready to stop reading. Or bash your head against a wall. Either one would be an unfavorable outcome, so I will stop with the Gypsy Wagon craziness. However, I decided that when I settle down I'm building a Gypsy Wagon on my property. Right next to the ceremonial tipi and behind the medicine wheel garden.

Our adventure started on Friday when P. and I got off work. We packed up Shaemus (his crazy awesome truck) and headed over to my parents house for the night. It wouldn't make sense for us to head to Ohio that day since we wouldn't get there until midnight at the earliest, so we decided a night with my parents would be a great way to start off our trip. And it was. We ate, we drank, we laughed, we talked, we danced, and we were merry. I think that P.Bear really enjoyed himself and I know that my family was grateful to have us there. It was a great night.

The next morning we got our hungover tushies out of bed, had a quick breakfast, said our goodbyes, and got on the road. P. took a little detour and gave me a tour of his hometown including the house he grew up in. I wish I had pictures to share, but I was so caught up in the moment I didn't think to take any. When we finally got on the highway, we were roughly two hours behind schedule. Actually, we didn't have a schedule. But we did spent two hours maneuvering around construction and fake detour signs while trying to find a place to use the restroom that didn't smell like STD's and dead bodies (we weren't exactly in the safest or cleanest part of town). Well, we succeeded in both and were finally on our way to my heavenly Gypsy Wagon abode.

About an hour into the car ride, P. glances over at the GPS and "Oh, shit." gently slips out. I pretend that I don't hear and continue singing along to the "road trip" mix P. so graciously put together for us. I sense him reaching for the sound knob, but pretend I don't notice.

"Ummm...baby?"
"Yes?"
"I think I missed the exit we were supposed to take."
"Oh really? Okay."

I stick my foot back out the window and continue to sing. You see, I'm the kind of person who likes adventure. I don't get stressed out traveling very easily, and missing an exit just adds excitement to the journey. But I didn't know how P. would react, and I was very curious to see what he would do. So what does he do? He takes the next exit, reroutes the GPS, and we end up taking back roads all the way to Hocking Hills. Granted, it added about an hour to our trip but it was so worth it! And at that moment, I knew that this would be the best car ride of my life. And it was. We rapped to some old school jams, we talked about our future(s), we made random pit stops, we shared stories, we rode in silence taking in the serenity of the rolling hills, and we just blissfully coexisted.

This is what the majority of our car ride looked like. Beautiful, right? Now let me tell you a little bit about this picture. P. really loves his music, and sometimes he thinks of a perfect song that would be perfect for a given moment and he must find that song and play it at that moment. Literally, at that moment. I took this picture when P. pulled off on the side of the road to find a particular song in his IPOD that has over 10 days of music on it. It took roughly 10 minutes to find the song. Now, I'm a very patient person, but pulling off on the side of the road to find a song can stir mixed feelings. And I think P. felt this because the next stop was this-

Dairy Queen. A Dairy Queen that had a DRIVE-THROUGH! A vanilla cone dipped in chocolate from Dairy Queen.  At that moment, I was willing to pull over on the side of the road every half an hour to find a song. See? It's all about balance. Harmony. Co-existence. P. pulls over to find a song, I sacrifice 10 minutes. P. pulls over at a Dairy Queen, he sacrifices 10 minutes. Partnership.

After the best 7 hour car ride of my life, we arrived at the wagon of my dreams. And I was not disappointed.  Actually, I ran out of the car and jumped around like a little kid with a perma-grin on my face. P. was pretty stoked too. He even complemented me on my destination selection skills. I let it get to my head and said that we are gonna stay at every single gypsy wagon on the face of this Earth. Actually, I didn't say that, but that's what I was thinking (P. just doesn't know it yet).

 

 P. checking out the wagon.

Inside of wagon with all our crap everywhere. The picture is a little blurry, but you get the sense of it. We had a mini-fridge, a microwave, a little counter, a breakfast area, and a loft. 

See that blowup mattress on the loft? Yes, that wasn't there when we arrived. I "misread" the website and thought that the wagon came with a mattress. Well, that was not the case. However, P. was very understanding and after 7 hours of driving, drove for another hour to a store where we bought an air mattress. And some hummus. And stopped for dinner where they fed us an excessive amount of coleslaw and corn muffins. They even gave us a take out box filled with corn muffins. I will never eat coleslaw or corn muffins again. I think I'm traumatized.

On the way back, filled with foods I cannot speak of due to a gagging reflex, we encountered this little man.

P. said hello while I was trying to figure out what kind of sound a deer makes. I'm pretty sure I failed miserably because on my second attempt the deer gently trotted away. Actually, he ran for his life from the crazy woman making screeching noises at him. As he drove away, P. told me that I would never be the deer whisperer and maybe I should try again with squirrels.

We got back to the Gypsy Wagon and enjoyed a crisp glass of wine on the front porch. It was lovely. Even with the hundreds of moths swarming around the porch light and occasionally landing on P.'s shoulder. But he took it like a champ, and managed to look quite adorable. How could he not with those polar bear eyes?

A few drinks and some magical conversations later, we curled up in our Gypsy abode and slept like a bear and a wolf should, happily snoring for 12 long, deep hours.