Watch Me Turn 30, by Holly C.
I'm a 29-year-old New Yorker who inherited this site from my pal, Holly P., to document the final year of my twenties. Right up until I turn the big 3-0 next January, I'll use this blog to indulge my inner-narcissist by voicing the good (I can date men anywhere from ages 21 to 50 without it being scandalous) the bad (I keep getting ma'amed) and the ugly (is it possible to get cellulite on your stomach?!). Here's to waving goodbye to my youth, accepting adulthood and remembering that every ending is really just a new beginning.
the photo for May 12, 2007
DAY 103  |  May 12, 2007
We’re staying in a trailer park. Hunter Valley is a pretty big region encompassing lots of towns, so we decided to stop in Singleton for the night because it had a campground with powered sites. Turns out, most of the trailers are home to permanent residents. One such resident, named Makalah, introduced herself to me in the bathroom and invited me to her trailer to look at her pictures of Australia. I obliged and listened to her advice on places to see (Alice Springs! Cairns! The Blue Mountains!).

When I mentioned we were on our way to visit the Singleton Information Center to figure out which wineries to visit, she laughed out loud. “The Information Center is about as useful as tits on a bull!” I felt like a silly tourist, which, of course, I am. But we decided to hit up the bigger Hunter Valley Information Center anyway, which was only a twenty-minute drive. The place was stocked with maps and the staff guided us in drafting an itinerary for the next four days, including wine tours, wine school, chocolate factory tastings and hot air balloon rides. Information is more than power—having it on a road trip makes everything more manageable.

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