Road Trips

Road trips can enliven the soul. They can open our minds, help us breathe a bit. Road trips can help us have (and create) a sense of adventure . . . especially when they are to nowhere in particular.

When I was in graduate school, a friend and I took off on road trips over two consecutive Christmas breaks. We began both trips from Abilene, Texas and had no destination whatsoever in mind. We literally hopped in the truck and drove off. We knew we wanted to go west. But that's about all we knew.

On the first trip, we wound up going through Big Bend country. We really had no idea what to expect from it. But as you can see from the above picture, it is stunning. The picture is from Texas, looking south across the Rio Grande (not so stunning . . . or grand), into Mexico. We were amazed with what we came across during that trip.

That trip opened up our sense of adventure . . . so much so that we wound up at the Grand Canyon the next year. Incredible. We were so adventurous that we decided to try to come back through the Rocky Mountains in Colorado during a snowstorm. That proved to be a bit too adventurous, as we became stranded and then found ourselves creeping back home across ice and snow.

We might have bit off more than we could chew with the second trip. But nonetheless, our experiences opened up our senses of adventure and showed us how worthwhile a true road trip can be.

Creating a Story

One of the most enjoyable things about travel is looking through your pictures once you return. You will always have the memories of your trip(s). And in many cases, your memories are the most prized possessions you will take from your experiences. But your pictures are also a treasure and, in large part, how you share your travel with others.

I took the following picture while on a trip to Boston a few years ago:

It's an innocent enough picture. I was walking along a street in the Back Bay area of Boston, which is, as you can see, a beautiful area. I have no idea who the couple holding hands in the picture is. And I really did not intend to capture them in the picture but rather the row of houses and trees. But my wife and I, especially my wife, has enjoyed making up stories in our heads about who this couple is, what they are doing, etc.

Perhaps they have just returned from a trip to a far-away place and are walking back to their residence, among the beautiful row of houses in the picture. Perhaps they are taking the trip of a lifetime to Boston and just enjoying the day. Perhaps they are mad at each other and always hold hands, so they're just doing it again today (okay, so that is my suggestion, not Lauren's).

Pictures allow us to do that. They allow our imaginations to run wild. And they allow us to capture, in a small way, the experiences we have had in a place so that we can remember them and share them forever.

Doing a Little Digging

I know that I am unlike most people.

That sentence could be taken a few different ways, I suppose. But what I am aiming for is my enjoyment of planning travel. I enjoy planning travel: my travels, others' travels, travels I only dream of doing one day. I enjoy all parts of it. In preparation for our trip to Budapest, I poured through a number of travel books and guides. Rick Steves recommended a book that I picked up by Andres Torok, entitled, Budapest: A Critical Guide.

This is quite an interesting book, particularly because it was written (in the early '90s) not long after the Soviets left Hungary. The Soviets governed the area with an iron fist. And because of that, there weren't too terribly many interesting to see in Budapest when they left. But Torok loved his city and helped tourists find rather interesting spots, even though the air of communism still hung heavy over the area.

This is one such spot:

Underneath the glass windows lay the ruins of the boundary of the Roman Empire. It's quite a stunning site, just from the sheer history that lay underground. But the most amazing thing is how un-marked the site is today. Had I not read Torok's guide, I would have never known about it. Even walking past it, you would have no idea it was here. In fact, I had to come back to the area twice to verify exactly where it is and exactly what it is. There is a small sign laying off to the side of it that is not too terribly descriptive and you have to search to find.

I am not sure why Budapest doesn't do more to let people know the site exists. Perhaps people have not found it to be that interesting over the years. I'm just not sure. But I am glad I found it. And I am glad that I did some extensive research before our trip and knew that it was there.

Now sure, I had lots of time on my hands to travel this trip, more time than most people have before their trips. But if you just do some digging, you can find some incredibly interesting things to see in your travels . . . and your digging will be greatly rewarded.

Sticking With It

Sometimes, things do not meet our expectations. At that point, we are left with two options: either keep on keeping on . . . or give up.

We had that sort of experience a few months ago. We decided to go to the opera on our last night in Budapest. We looked forward to the event all week-long and expected it to be a wonderful wrap-up our stay in that amazing city. I listened to a podcast about experiencing operas before going, as I had never been to one. Actually, I think I went to one in Abilene, while in graduate school, once. But whatever it was thrilled me so much that I looked at my phone all night long, checking sports scores.

The podcast described how wonderful it is to experience an opera that is done in a language foreign to your own because the real treat of opera is being captivated by the emotions of the music and the characters. I was expecting that and then was blown away by the inside of the Budapest Opera House:

I was looking forward to a great evening. However, the first two acts of the opera were a bit of a dud . . . to me, anyway. We debated leaving after the first act. Then I was ready to get out of there after Act Two. But, fortunately, Lauren wanted to stay. So we did. And I am glad we did.

By sticking with it, Act Three wrapped the story of Rigoletto up well. Things finally made sense . . . or sort of. The opera, of course, was sung in Italian. There were subtitles. But since we were in Budapest, the subtitles were in, um, Hungarian. Some English words in the program helped set the scene a bit. But the difficulties in translation made me angry and frustrated.

But something about the third act caused me to chill out, take it in, and enjoy it. I wish I had been more open to the experience earlier in the evening. Nonetheless, I am glad we stuck with it and enjoyed the best part of it.

We were in a situation where we had to decide whether or not to stick with it. We did and were glad we did. We have also had times where we decided to head out, in similar situations. And we are glad we did that, as well, such as trying to see Central Park in NYC. I really, really, really wanted to see it. The day we planned to do that it was pouring. We walked up there, were miserable, and decided to go no farther than the edge of the park. And by doing so, we enjoyed some of the drier, less wet sites of Midtown.

How do you decide? Unfortunately, I don't think there is a one-size-fits-all approach to making decisions with travel, particularly when an experience isn't what you thought it would be. The best thing you can do is follow your instincts, your gut. Often, something deep down within us is trying to tell us what we should do, based upon who we are, what we like, what we don't like. The key is trying to listen to that and then (sorry to be cliche) following your heart.

The Importance of Place

Florida definitely has the best beaches in the USA (in my opinion, anyway). But, that does not mean that other beaches are not good, in their own right, or as special.

I have been to California twice. Awesome place. Can't wait to go again. On both of those trips, I was able to visit Laguna Beach, in between L.A. and San Diego:

Unfortunately, these pictures do not do the place justice. No picture fully captures one's experience in a place. But these pictures were taken on my cell phone, which lags far behind the camera abilities on other phones.

But nonetheless, this is Laguna Beach. It's no wonder that a television show was named after and set in the place. It's amazing. On my first trip through the place, I enjoyed a very tasty brunch with family at a restaurant overlooking the shoreline. That was really nice. On my second trip, I was with two friends on a quick trip through, on the way back up to an Angels/Braves baseball game. We did not have a whole lot of time to spend there. But what we did spend was very nice.

We spent an hour or so on the rocks of the beach doing nothing. And it was fabulous. We had been running around trying to see some sites in the area during our brief stay. We decided to pop down to Laguna Beach. Once we got there, we found it difficult to leave. Being on the beach that day was very peaceful, rather tranquil. I remember leaving the place feeling refreshed and renewed, feeling better about the stresses and challenges going on in my life.

That's the power of place. Often, the exact setting does not matter because simply allowing ourselves the freedom and the opportunity to sit, to rest, to unwind, perhaps meditate and to think deeply can be so enriching. Places like Laguna Beach allow us, or even call us, to do that. I can think of a number of places that have had that effect upon me. Then, when I return there, for whatever reason, I feel the same sense of peace and hope that I originally felt.

It is good, and necessary, for us to find and then continue coming back to those kinds of places, whether they are in the forest behind our house or halfway around the world. Once we find them, we cannot help but realize how important they are to us.

The Choice Is Up to Us

I love going to the beach.

I have been to the beach in Texas, in Louisiana, in Mississippi in South Carolina, in North Carolina, in Massachusetts, in New York, in Illinois (believe it or not, there is one), in California. But without a doubt, my favorite place to go to the beach is in Florida.

White sand, clear sky, clear water (unless you count the summer that we saw tar balls wash up on shore after the oil spill). It's beautiful, peaceful, and calming, until . . .

It's amazing how quickly a storm can come up on the coast. Thirty minutes and things look completely different. It's also amazing how bad things can look and how little damage it does. We thought the above storm was going to wash us away. In the end, it wasn't too bad.

But a storm can completely change your travel plans. What we had hoped was going to be a relaxing day at the beach turned into, well . . . not that at all. It turned into an afternoon inside.

And the most powerful thing about it is there is nothing you can do about it.

That's what happens when we travel. Whether it's a storm or traffic or airline delay or a beautiful sight you want to see suddenly being shut down, change happens. And often, there's nothing you can do about it. In those times, you can either choose to get over it and move on or to be bitter. The choice is always up to us.

Right Under Your Nose

Wonders are truly all around us . . .

This is Callaway Gardens, an absolutely beautiful oasis in west Georgia. For four years, we lived about an hour away from it and, regrettably, only visited it once. But I am glad that we went, when we did.

The Gardens has lots of different things that one might expect from a protected natural area: lodging, golf course, trails and trails and trails, and, well, gardens. We went during the summer, if I remember correctly. I remember it being hot (okay, that's pretty much year-round); and I remember beautiful flowers. But I also remember having just recently missed the breathtaking flowers that bloom in springtime in Georgia.

Beauty really is all around us, sometimes right under our nose. It's a matter of taking the time to get out, looking for it, and doing a little exploring.

When in NYC

New York City is an incredible place. So much to do, so much to see, so many places to go. Where does one begin? . . .

With food. Some of the most incredible experiences in places we go have to do with eating the food, or drinking the drink, of that place, of that region.

I saw some really incredible things in NYC: Empire State Building, 9/11 Memorial, Brooklyn Bridge, Times Square, the restaurant with a marquee in Seinfeld . . . the list can go on and on.

But the memories that probably cross my mind more than any other breathtaking sight or beautifully-designed building or famous site is the food I ate while I was there. The same goes for the other trips I have made, all around. Savoring and enjoying the food of the places we go can tell us more about a place than any building or sight, if we listen. Food gets us closer to knowing the people of a place. We interact with the waitstaff or vendor. We discuss where the food or drink came from, how it's made, how people of that area prepare it differently, why they do what they do. We talk with people sitting around us, how they like the food, where they come from, what they do for a living, how they are enjoying the same experience you are having.

Guess what the food is in the above picture? Nah, you're probably wrong. If you guessed ham, like I imagine I probably would, that's not it. It's bacon. Yep, that's a piece of bacon. The most unique piece of bacon I have ever had, at Peter Luger Steak House in Brooklyn. Describing the meal itself could fill three or four blog posts. Suffice it to say, wow. Before we went, we were encouraged by friends to try a piece of bacon or two as an appetizer. We were not disappointed.

While there, we talked to the waiter about the bacon and why it, well, doesn't look like bacon. That discussion opened up all kinds of avenues: where we are all from, what we are doing, why we are in that particular location at that particular time.

A wonderful experience . . . centered around bacon (eat your heart out, Jim Gaffigan).

What We Can Control

Sometimes things do not go the way we want them to go.

That's simply part of travel . . . it's also part of life.

On a trip to Chicago last year, I had all sorts of good stuff planned out, including baseball. I had a ticket to a Cubs game at Wrigley (which, by the way, was incredible). Tickets to the only White Sox game going on during our stay were incredibly expensive on Stubhub, as it was the home opener. I did not want to pay the prices that were offered on Stubhub. So I thought that surely I could buy a ticket from someone outside the gates for much cheaper. I have done that at a number of sporting events. And I figured I would definitely be able to do it there.

Wrong.

The tickets being offered outside the gates were much more expensive than what I could have gotten a ticket for on Stubhub. If I really wanted to get inside the gates of U.S. Cellular Field, the home of the White Sox, I should have just paid the prices that were being offered on Stubhub. Instead, this is as close as I got to the action that day:

I was deflated, defeated, and just, overall, unhappy. My plan simply did not work out. And I was left out in the cold (literally, it was freezing).

At that point, I had two options: either get mad about it and let it ruin my day or move on and enjoy Chicago through another avenue. Admittedly, I did a little bit of both. I stewed around for a while, muttering to myself. Then I tried to move on and do the next thing on my list: Chinatown. However, it was kind of a stinker, too:

Chicago's Chinatown is nothing like NYC's or Boston's . . . it's just kind of there . . . full of tourists in awkward hats. After walking it a few blocks, I decided to hop back on the subway and see other parts of Chicago.

The experience was, actually, a good travel experience. With travel, our best laid plans sometimes do not unfold like we want them to or, many times, like they should have. These experiences, though, are often the best travel experiences we can have. Travel mirrors life in so many ways. Life is full of lots of ups. It's also full of plenty of downs. We cannot always control our experiences and how things turn out for us. What we can control is how we react to and deal with life . . . and travel.

The Beauty of Travel

One of my favorite TV shows is, An Idiot Abroad. The show takes a man named Karl Pilkington around the world. The genius of it is in the idiot, Karl. Karl is like so many of us. He has funny quirks, things annoy him, and everything is better where he is from. In other words, he is not a good traveler. Or, he is the world's best traveler.

The producers of the show, Ricky Gervais and Stephen Merchant, place Karl in some very exotic places around the world, doing very exotic things, seeing some of the world's great wonders. Along the way, viewers are treated to amazing sites, places, food, etc. The true beauty of the show is that one gets to watch Karl, an idiot, do travel. The irony is it shows how Karl is like each of us. We are all idiots, thinking that our own way and our culture's way of doing things is best. Sociologists call it: "ethnocentrism." Gervais and Merchant prefer to term it: "idiot."

Amazingly, there are some breakthroughs. Karl has some wonderful travel moments, in which he realizes that there is more to life than what he knows in his tiny circle, at home. On one such breakthrough, Karl is in Mexico, to see Chichen Itza. At the end of the show, Karl reflects that the people of Mexico really know what they are doing. He notes that they go through their lives, doing what they want to do, not concerned about what other people think. He believes that makes people in Mexico happier than people where he comes from. He was particularly intrigued by people in a small village who work in the field all day long, then come home and "do nothing," as he put it. They just mill around town all day, doing nothing in particular. But he noted they were the happiest people he had ever seen.

That's what travel can do . . . if we allow it to. Travel can expose us to things that do not make sense to us. But upon reflection, we realize there is more than one way to do something, more than one way to do life than what we see with our normal, everyday surroundings.

Travel can do this with things as simple as a pickle on a hot dog (I had never considered until I went to Chicago):

Or as interesting as pay-to-use public toilets in Budapest (something I still have not wrapped my head around but am intrigued by):

But that's the beauty of travel.