Lessons Learned While Traveling (Part I)

I’ve always wanted to travel full time. I imagined it would finally happen when I retired. I would live the transient life of adventure and see the world. It was all very romantic in my head.

I’m glad we’re traveling now, because if there’s one thing that the last five weeks have taught me, it’s that there’s a lot of things I won’t want to do when I’m 70. Namely, climbing steep hills and scrambling over wet rocks.

If I hadn’t experimented with traveling this summer, there’s a good chance I would’ve wasted a lot of time and energy stressing over the fact that I wasn’t on the road. I would’ve overlooked the good things about home in favor of dreaming about traveling. It’s the “grass is always greener” syndrome.

I still love to travel, but I feel I should be completely honest about the pros and cons of traveling. With that, here’s four things I learned this summer while dragging around a backpack, washing my sweat-soaked clothes in a sink, and occasionally saying nasty things to my adventure partner.

1. Visiting historic sites is overrated. 

The first thing anyone does when they visit a new place is map out all of the sites of importance and make it their mission to see them. This makes sense. Why go to Athens if you’re not going to see the Parthenon?

I’m not saying that you shouldn’t go and see the leaning tower of Pisa if your heart desires, but here’s the thing: if you find yourself feeling disappointed or underwhelmed, that’s ok. It’s not a sign that you’re not “getting it” or that you’re unable to recognize greatness; it’s that you’re trying to appreciate the past by visiting a place in the present.

The reason we want to visit these amazing places is because they have historical significance. It’s not so much about where it happened as what happened. For centuries, the Roman Forum was the heart of the city. Everything of importance happened at the Forum. You can walk in the footsteps of Cato the Elder, Julius Caesar, Marc Antony, and Marcus Tullius Cicero. That was the past. The footsteps surrounding you today are of less impressive men, and there's going to be lots of them.

Welcome!

If you’re visiting the Parthenon because you want to impress your friends with pictures on your Facebook wall, you’re going to be disappointed. You need to visit these places because they’re important to you, not because they’re important to someone else. If your heart’s not in it, you’ll be doubly pissed as you pour sweat and dodge aggressive salesmen trying to sell you overpriced stuff you don’t want.

Another reason you may find yourself wishing you’d saved your entrance fee for another round at the Irish pub is that we’ve been spoiled by technology. Thanks to the Internet, you’ve already seen every close up shot that any professional photographer could deliver. With a few simple clicks, you can see the individual brush strokes on the ceiling of the Sistine Chapel. You can take an HD virtual tour of some of the greatest monuments on Earth, and you’ll get to see more detail than you’ll ever see in person.

When you visit a monument in person, you’re going to be fighting through crowds of other tourists trying to get a picture that doesn’t have someone’s mullet in it. Additionally, most national treasures are roped off so that you can’t get anywhere near it, in the hopes that you won’t climb on it, write your name on it, or steal a part of it.

Take Stonehenge, for example. You can get an excellent view of Stonehenge from anywhere in the surrounding area. You can also pay £7.80/person (~$12/person) to visit Stonehenge. This visit gives you the chance to stand behind a rope and stare out into the distance at the circle, much like you can do in the parking lot for free. Your entrance fee also gets you an audio recording that explains how they still have no idea why/how it was built. Fascinating.

Some say it was aliens. Others disagree.

Museums are another place that can be a let down. As a nerd, I love a good museum, but I’m going to say the following in all honestly: once you’ve seen an exhibit’s worth of ancient Greek bowls, you really don’t have to see anymore of them. You can cross that one off your bucket list without feeling like an uncultured swine if you don’t want to see anymore.

After the first few hundred, you get the idea.

Everyone has their own personal list of must-see places. For me, it’s cathedrals and on a somewhat creepier note, grave sites. Yup, I like to visit the final resting places of historical figures. I have a weird obsession with pondering how a person can create a masterpiece, discover a scientific principle, or rise to greatness, and yet still end up in the same place that we all eventually find ourselves. It’s that whole “one life to live” concept personified.

I love cathedrals for a few reasons. They’re quiet, they’re usually the perfect mix of imposing yet beautiful, and the work that went into their construction is simply awe-inspiring. There’s nothing like standing in the echoing grandeur of a 12th-century building and marveling at how mere mortals were able to create such a massive, intricate structure without the aid of modern technology.

For me, nothing will be the same as visiting a grave or a cathedral in person. It’s up to you to define your own list, and that list might not include the Louvre or the Colosseum.  The important thing is that when you do visit your must-see places, you’ll know you’re visiting because they’re meaningful to you, and not just because they’re in a tourist guide.

To be continued…

The Long Trip Home

The final days of our European Adventure were spent in Dubrovnik and Montenegro. I’d been looking forward to Dubrovnik as I had heard nothing but good things about the city. I loved everything about Croatia, so I didn’t think there was any way that this city could be disappointing. Our arrival was everything I had hoped it would be. The walled city looked amazing and I loved watching the cruise ships pull into the harbor.

The main street in the Old City

I was over my love of the city by the second day. It didn’t occur to me how many tourists were on each of those cruise ships until they swarmed into Old City. I’m not a fan of crowds to begin with, and there were two massive ships each day. The overpriced kitsch mixed with hoards of people and hot, sticky air was overwhelming. Our landlord asked what I thought of the city and when I responded that it was “ok,” he laughed and said that he won’t go anywhere near the Old City unless it’s the off-season.

On the fourth day, we hopped on a bus and headed south. Our bus was a few hours late, which wasn’t a big deal, but then we blew a tire on the Croatia-Montenegro border. Changing a tire on a bus is much more difficult than our crew expected, but luckily a truck driver helped out and it only took a few hours. Meanwhile, the border guards were trying to contain 60 people from various countries, none of whom wanted to stay in the designated space. Herding cats is an understatement.

We made it to Hercig-Novi, were we found a driver who was happy to take us the rest of the way to Tivat. He started the engine of his glorified van, moved two parking spots to the left, and then walked away. Not a good start…

Eventually he came back and took us an hour further down the road. Air conditioning consisted of leaving the door open. Then he parked on the side of the road and gestured for us to join him in another van, which we did because really, what other option did we have?

We finally made it to Tivat and began the long hike to our hostel, which did not have the AC we so desperately needed at that point. After spending 9 hours traveling 65 miles, I was in no mood for a rickety fan, wasps, and a flooded bathroom. Surprisingly, we ended up meeting some great people and had a really good time that night, even with the less-than-stellar accommodations.

We booked into a different hotel that advertised AC the next day. They warned us that the hotel was still “under construction” but we underestimated what they meant by that. We literally stayed on a construction site.

Four stars?

Always an adventure, but at least they had AC! Their work ethic was insane; they ran that jackhammer from 7 am until 9 pm.

We flew home the following day. I have never been so relieved to drop a bag down on my kitchen floor. I’ve always thought that I wanted to travel full time, but I had no idea how exhausting traveling can be. After a month of lugging a 45 pound bag around the Mediterranean, I was done for awhile. By “awhile” I mean 2 days, because that’s how long we had before our next big adventure: flying home to visit the family for a week!

The Best Thing Since Sliced Bread

No one in Croatia says “the best thing since sliced bread.” This is because they don’t have sliced bread. K says that we could make a fortune by bringing over sliced bread, fitted sheets, brooms, and peanut butter.

Tell me a swiffer wouldn't blow their minds.

It’s not that we’re bashing on Croatia, because we love this place. However, if there’s one thing traveling will do, it’s remind you of everything you miss from home.

I should start by saying that I’m suffering from some overwhelming homesickness at the moment, as I missed an important family event last weekend. Additionally, I’m taking an upcoming trip to my adventure partner’s home of origin, and the excitement of seeing our friends and family is about to kill me.

I feel incredibly blessed to have the opportunity to travel and see the world through the lens of other cultures. There’s nothing quite as cool as experiencing the way another country navigates through life.  I can also appreciate the things that other countries have embraced that I wish America had (roundabouts, open air markets, and free healthcare, anyone?) However, that doesn’t mean I’ve forgotten all of things that make my home special.

With that in mind, I dedicate this post to things that I miss about America.

1. Convenience. This doesn’t just mean the convenience of being able to buy ammo, a pregnancy test, bacon, and a lawn mower at two in the morning. Convenience is an all-encompassing phenomenon in the states. I can get anything I need, at any time, and I can probably get it from a drive-thru.

The biggest convenience I miss at this point is a washer and dryer. A full-size washer and dryer, not that 2-gallon combination piece of shit that Europe has embraced. I don’t want to say that I’m tired of washing my clothes in a mop bucket and stringing them around the room, but there’s probably more artistic ways to decorate a kitchen.

2. Grocery stores. Yes, every country has grocery stores, but not in the way that we know and love. This goes along with my comments on convenience. Grocery stores are not open at a time that would be conducive to anyone with a job. Even the ones that boast “24 hours” are only open from 10 a.m. to 4 p.m. on Sundays. This means that everyone is trying to cram into the dairy aisle on Saturdays, and no one is enjoying themselves. Tesco is the most hostile place I’ve ever been.

Additionally, each country organizes their store in a different way, and it never makes sense. For example, you would think that cinnamon sticks would be in the aisle with the rest of the spices, right? No. Cinnamon sticks are located next to the flour, which is near the bakery, which is on the other side of the store.

Eggs should be in the refrigerated section next to the milk and butter, but instead you’ll find them on the shelf next to the canned hot dogs, because why the hell not? As an aside, canned hot dogs are surprisingly delicious. Desperation is an ugly animal.

3. Street signs. The first step to getting where you need to go is knowing where you are right now. I’m not even trying to be cute and metaphorical there; I seriously have no idea where the hell I am most of the time. You know those green signs with clearly printed white letters that tell you what street you’re on? Yeah, no one else does that.

Roads that are wide enough to accommodate two cars simultaneously are also a bit of an oddity. It’s much easier to build one lane, label it as 60 mph, and then put up a warning sign. Problem solved!

I could probably create an entirely separate blog about roads and all things automotive related, so I’ll limit this rant to one more thing: grid patterned streets. Miss your turn? That’s cool! Take the next one.

I understand that most of the roads in England are older than my country, so it makes sense that they would follow whatever plan was laid out centuries ago. However, they continue their eclectic patterns of squiggles and loops in their new developments, presumably so that it will blend with the rest of the area.

4. Familiar foods. I can’t belittle the culinary delights of the places I’ve visited. Every country has its own amazing dishes, from sushi in Japan to fresh feta in Greece. I love food, LOVE it, and the variety of flavors has been one of the most rewarding things about living and traveling abroad.

I wouldn’t trade the delicious food experiences I’ve had for anything, but everyone has their favorite foods from home. I make a list of specific things I have to eat each time I visit the states, and none of them could be considered culinary masterpieces. Red Lobster cheesy biscuits, Dairy Queen’s chicken strip basket (God help you if doesn’t have the country gravy), eggs benedict, and that bowl thing from KFC that has their entire menu swimming in mashed potatoes. Don’t act like you don’t know which one I’m talking about! None of these things could hold a candle to the homemade ricotta and balsamic vinegar I had in Italy, but I still miss them!

I miss them because they taste like home. They taste like happy memories at familiar places, and no amount of moussaka in Crete can make up for that (although God knows I’ve tried!) Which brings me to the most important thing I miss about home…

5. Friends and family (and friends that ARE family). It doesn’t matter how many wonderful people I meet on my travels, no one will compare to my friends and family back home. Yes, you make look around at your family and think they’re all bat shit crazy (because they probably are) but they made you who you are today. They’re irreplaceable.

One of the driving forces behind a love of travel is the fact that you can be anyone you want during your trip. No one knows who you are. They don’t know your history or the fact that you still sucked your thumb all the way through kindergarten and are hopelessly uncoordinated. For all they know, you’re whoever (and whatever) you say you are.

At home, there are people who watched you puke all over your desk in Mr. B’s freshman science class, and they love you just the same. As cool as it is to be whoever you want to be for a week, there’s nothing quite the same as knowing that there’s people out there who love you unconditionally. No matter how much I see and how far I travel, these are the people that make me want to come home.

But I seriously need a washer and dryer.

When Life Gives You Lemons

…buy a liter of vodka. Wait, is that not how the saying goes? I guess I should start at the beginning.

We made it to Croatia! This is a feat to be celebrated, as we took a ferry across the Adriatic. The walls were so thin that when our neighboring cabin turned on their lights, our room had a nice ambient glow as well. In the end, the ship stayed afloat and we landed at Zadar.

The most exciting thing we did in Zadar was visit the sea organ. The sea organ is basically a musical instrument that crafts sounds based on the way the waves pump air into its pipes. It’s a massive concrete structure with holes drilled into it, each set to different notes. As the tides and waves change, the air blows through in different ways and creates a variety of sounds. It’s one of those things you have to see to believe. I sat and believed for quite some time, as can be evidenced by my sunburn.

We spent four lovely days at our apartment in Bibinje (Ba-bin-ya), which is just south of Zadar. Bibinje was a quiet village, but very laid-back and hospitable. I’ve never met such a welcoming group of people. Our landlady was kind enough to make us two different types of cake: one chocolate banana cream, and one cherry cheese. If there’s a way into my skeptical heart, it’s probably cake. In fact, her cake is the reason we’ll be leaving such a high review of her apartment.

The apartment itself was a bit lacking. To start, I chose that particular place because it boasted laundry facilities. “Facilities” simply met that she had a line strung in the front lawn, and a tub for hand washing our clothes. This really wasn’t much of a problem, since we’ve been hand washing our clothes for the last few weeks. Oh the things I would do for a full size washer and dryer!!

The real downside was that the place didn’t offer air conditioning. As I’ve mentioned before, this isn’t that uncommon. However, there wasn’t even a fan. We spent four fairly miserable, sticky nights with the windows open. Opening the windows meant we invited in a variety of critters, from bugs to lizards, and we also got to experience the sounds of the Croatian nightlife. I learned that a cat fight and a chorus of barking dogs sound the same in every country, and that midnight is the best time to use a table saw.

That being said, Croatia is my new favorite country. It is the most beautiful place I’ve ever visited, as well as being the most friendly.  Everyone is willing to lend a hand, whether it be directions to the beach or the best way to get from one island to another.

We’re currently staying in an awesome apartment on the Croatian island of Brac. It has lemon, orange, and olive trees growing right outside our door. Our landlord said he only grows them so his guests can enjoy them, and we have definitely obliged his request. I’ve never seen a lemon tree, let alone picked fresh lemons with my own hands. They are amazing! They’re sun ripened and warm, and they have this incredibly sweet yet tangy scent.

I picked that with my bare hands!

The first time my adventure partner set one in my palm, I thought “vodka tonic,” and we walked straight to the corner store. I don’t want to say too readily that I’ve found heaven, but if it exists on earth, it might just be in Croatia.

Coffee!!

I had planned on seeing the sights of Rome today but I can’t because I’m HOPPED THE FUCK UP on caffeine. I just want to jump around and dance and I’m pretty sure that’s frowned upon at the Vatican.

So how did this happen?

First, a little background on me. I need coffee. NEED it. Before coffee I’m a pleasant mix of stupid and bitchy. I would like to take this opportunity to apologize to all of my fellow commuters. I stand by my point that you shouldn’t have a license, but all of the things I said about your mother were uncalled for.

Anyway, I woke this morning and wandered in to see my adventure partner staring at an odd contraption that was supposed to be our coffee maker. I only know it was for coffee because the night before our helpful landlady pointed to it and said, “For coffee.”

He was deep into his CSI investigative mode, staring at various bits and pieces and saying things like, “I think this part goes on a fire, due to the burn marks,” and “This bit smells like coffee. I think the grounds go in here.” Then we remembered that we have the Internet, and quickly solved the case.

The contraption we’re dealing with is called a moka pot. Wikipedia taught us how to make coffee in it, and we sampled what may be the most delicious beverage we’ve ever made. It is FANTASTIC! I thought to myself, “When in Rome,” and we had a cup or six. (Side note, I’m using the phrase “When in Rome” every time it could remotely make sense for the next four days.) Later, my adventure partner pointed out that this method of preparation results in a much higher caffeine content than the normal drip style.

It was about this time that all of the coffee caught up to me and my brain did something like this:

I intend to ride this high for as long as possible and then crash for an afternoon nap. Meanwhile, my adventure partner will write a guest post, sharing all of his research in the various types of coffee preparation. The man is nothing if not well researched. Peace out for now, I’m going to go run a few laps around the apartment.

Finding Our Way

A few years ago, my adventure partner decided to surprise me with a TomTom. To be perfectly honest, I thought it was a pointless piece of technology. I had happily road tripped through multiple countries by looking for road signs and reading my maps, so I didn’t need a GPS. Two months later as we were driving through Denver, I discovered that having a soft-spoken voice tell me when to turn left made for a much healthier marriage than using my husband as a navigator. My love affair with the GPS was born! 

The TomTom became one of those arbitrary markers: life before the GPS and life after the GPS. Pre-GPS, some of my favorite afternoons started out by driving with no set destination in mind. One random Wednesday, I woke up and decided to drive to the English coast. I turned left on a whim after seeing a sign for a tourist route. Thanks to that detour, I visited two castles, had some amazing homemade black currant jam, and discovered one of my favorite vineyards.

Driving without a GPS was not without its fair share of problems though. One night when I was still very new to England, I volunteered to drop a friend off at Gatwick airport, and then headed home to Cambridge. At some point I took a wrong turn, and after an hour or so the road just ended at a large body of water. I found this to be strange because I didn’t remember crossing an ocean on the way down. I backtracked to the nearest gas station and asked the attendant where I was.

Attendant:     You’re in Brighton.

Me:               Where the hell is that?

Attendant:    (Points to a city on the southern tip of England).

Me:               You’re shitting me, right?

The attendant burst out laughing when I explained where I needed to go. I rested my head on the counter, regrouped, and said, “All right. I’m gonna need a map, a pack of smokes, and some Red Bull. This is going to be a long night.”

North and south were lost on me that night.

I arrived back home just in time to change clothes and go to work. In that instance, I really wish I’d had a TomTom.

I can’t argue the fact that the GPS has made my life infinitely easier, but sometimes I wonder if it’s simultaneously taking away my ability to navigate without it. In 2011, researchers at Columbia University, led by Betsy Sparrow, found that we’re more likely to forget facts that we can easily look up. This finding was dubbed the “Google effect.” Similarly, I don’t remember directions to places that I visit now, because I know the TomTom will get me there. Am I sacrificing part of my intellectual abilities for the sake of convenience?

When I’m lost, the journey is part of the adventure. I have to figure out where I am and where I need to be. Getting lost has given me the chance to see places I never would have visited otherwise, and has introduced me to a lot of interesting people. Whenever I turn on my GPS the thought lingers in the back of my mind: How will I ever find myself if I never get lost?

I’ve been attempting to use my GPS less in an effort to regain some of my navigational skills. It’s been simple trips recently, such as finding the community center in a country village I’d never been to before. I imagine I could’ve found the community center faster had my trusty TomTom guided me down every street, but I took the time to read the road signs, look around, and take in this tiny village.
In addition to a deep sense of satisfaction in knowing that I could find my destination without any outside assistance, I found myself appreciating all of the little details of English villages that I’m going to miss: the old men sitting outside the pub, the grassy views of the Cambridgeshire countryside, and the tiny co-op grocery stores. Everything seems slower in the villages.

In the summer, I experiment with various ways of getting home GPS free, just to experience life away from the highway. I’ll take a tractor and a railway crossing any day over rows of semis and pissed off commuters. This simple change to my daily routine saved countless lives when I was quitting smoking. When the farmers plant their fields, I like to roll the windows down so I can smell the scent of freshly tilled earth. This plan has a tendency to backfire near the pig farms, but it’s the risk you take.

The many scents of England.

I keep the GPS in my glove box so it’s there if I need it, but the convenience of the TomTom pales in comparison to the satisfaction I get from finding my own way. Much like life, I appreciate my journey more when I know I’ve created it myself, no matter how many twists and turns I may take.