I’ve been in Beijing for over 48 hours and I still haven’t had a full conversation with another human being.

Instead, I’ve been roaming the Hutongs (alleyways, or what I like to think of as the Chinese version of my last name) and waiting patiently for my tour to start. Similar to last year in Africa, I’ve opted for a 2-week guided tour to give me a little Chinese taster without all the fuss of organizing it myself. Because, yes, comfort and convenience have become good travel companions in my 30s.

In fact, I’m eating an American breakfast as we speak.

Relax, people, I’m sure I’ll eat my weight in dumplings before this trip is over.

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It turns out China’s internet game is not strong.

Of course, if I had done my homework, I would have remembered that the Great “Firewall” of China is as mighty as ever. Google, WhatsApp, Instagram…they are all my ostracized friends that are not welcomed here. As a result, I have plenty of time to read, write and practice what I preach to my students – “I will not die without the internet!”

So, today is a writing day. Or, what I like to call catching up on the last 8 months of my life, since turning 32.

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Tuk Tuk Tom came to visit me for my birthday.

And, even though my real world Miami life-with its 6:00 am wake-up calls and $20 cocktails- would be a far cry from our African adventure, I wasn’t going to pass up a sweet birthday treat in the form of a handsome British man.

Tom’s trip kicked off with a week-long classic Florida tour, complete with gator-hunting, manatee-watching and mermaid-creeping. He even got to spend his first American thanksgiving with my family!

Unfortunately, the last British boy I brought home left my family slightly skeptical. But, Tom did a great job charming them with his cello-playing, mom-flattering, dish-washing ways.

Back in Miami, I gathered my crew, threw on some shoulder pads and white pumps, and rang in my 32nd year with a Miami Vice-themed birthday party.

Everyone was on top form, especially Crockett-obsessed Tom who really got into the Vice City groove. It was a memorable night, indeed.

 

Two weeks later, Tom was gone.

But, it was ok. I was ok. I had managed my expectations, understood the different paths we both were on and enjoyed our time together for what it was. I guess that’s 32.

And, yeah, maybe I still like to tell our epic “how we met” tale. Can you blame me?!

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I took a trip to Spain for Christmas.

It was an impulse purchase based on plans that all fell through. And just before I thought I’d be walking the Camino on a solo journey to Catholic conversion, my friend Alex impulsively booked a ticket too.

Phew, that was a close one.

Flash forward to New Year’s Eve. Standing on the rooftop of our random hostel in the small Medieval town of Toledo, I heard someone shout, “Ms. Hutton!”

“Oh Dear God,” I said. “Why? How?! Not on my vacation!”

Turned out to be the lunch lady at my school, which, still is a lottery-odds chance of happening. But at least I wasn’t caught by a student in the throws of my NYE’s champagne merriment.

Phew, another close one!

From there, we proceeded to eat and drink our way through Madrid, Toledo, Sevilla and Lisbon. Along the way, we met friends and tour guides like Javi and Oscar, partook in magical moments like sleeping in Portuguese castles, and indulged in instantly regrettable decisions like dying my hair dark.

YOLO does not apply to your hair, Holly. Remember that.

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One morning in March, I woke up to what sounded like the collective buzz of a million bees.

But before I could contemplate a My Girl demise, I realized that these little buzzing creatures wanted only to feast on the cacti blossoms that surrounded the romantic retreat I had booked for myself somewhere in the mountains of Mexico.

The next day, I found myself shotgun in a beat up truck, hitching a ride with some hombres (presumably the “good” kind) to a private members club in the middle of the desert where I threw back mescal with a famous Mexican movie director and a best-selling American author.

Back at my retreat, I sat with my Modelo and a million-dollar view…

…just me, the bees and my reflections on how random and wonderful my life continues to be.

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And now, it’s summer again. And Asia is my home for the next two months.

Perhaps, I’ll have another random summer romance. Or, I’ll simply enjoy the company of my Asia-residing friends. Either way, one thing is for certain…another adventure awaits and a new blog post is already starting to brew.

Stay tuned…