Too Much of a Good Thing

There really can be too much of a good thing.

When I travel, I find all sorts of things that I enjoy. Something I have learned (about myself, really) through my travels is that I tend to want to gravitate towards what I enjoy, over and over again. For instance . . .

The Bluebird Cafe in Nashville, Tennesse is a wonderful place. I came across it during my first visit to the city while at a conference. A number of conference-go'ers and I went to a concert there one night; and I was immediately hooked. The place brings in artists, many of them well-known, and does very small, intimate concerts. I had always longed to go to a place like this. I'm not really all that big a fan of enjoying concert music with thousands of my closest friends. This was the antedote I had been looking for for years.

I was so hooked that when my wife got to town a couple of days later, I drug her (she wanted to go, too, though) back to the Bluebird. Then we went again the next night.

The place frankly lost some its luster by the third visit. That was not the place's fault. That was my fault. I enjoyed it once. Great. I went back again. Okay, that's enough. But a third time? That is simply wasting time while travelling to a place with so many great sites.

My wife and I have been back again; and we enjoyed it very much. But I learned a valuable lesson during my first trip. Finding something you enjoy, particularly while travelling, is great. But beating it into the ground by trying to squeeze all the enjoyment that you can out of it . . . well, it's just a little silly . . . because you really can get too much of a good thing.

Borders

I have always been fascinated by borders between countries, states, etc. It may be due to spending my childhood in the center of a state that is large enough to be considered a country in most areas of the world. Because of this, I rarely crossed into another state. So when I did, it was pretty remarkable.

While living in Georgia, we crossed state lines many times. In fact, we lived so close to the Alabama border that our cell phones were often confused which time zone it was in. On one day trip, I came across a restaurant that actually has a state line running right through the middle of it:

I remember the food being not all that tasty. But I also remember being able to almost straddle the state line while using the restroom.

State lines are interesting.

Keeping the Dream Alive

Something I love about travel is dreaming . . . 

For instance, I have a dream trip: fly into Rome, spend a couple of days, take a bus over to the eastern coast of Italy, ferry over to the Croatian coastal city of Dubrovnick, and then up to the city of Korcula.

It's a dream trip. Not sure if I'll ever make it. But, really, that's not the point. Having the dream is what keeps the energy and passion going.

Here's another dream:

While on a boat in Port Aransas, Texas last summer, I saw this island (in the foreground). Throughsome  research, I found out the island is uninhabited. A boat goes from the mainland to the island a couple of times a day. But no lives there. There are no restaurants, no hotels. Nothing. Just land.

My dream is to go spend a day on the island. Sounds like a wonderful way to spend the day.

Not sure if I'll ever make it. I'd like to. I hope to. But simply having that dream, researching it, having a passion for it . . . that seems to be enough to make the dream worthwhile.

Places We Never Forget

In the midst of all of the traveling we do, so many places and faces, sights and food, really everything that we do can get sort of lost in the midst. We can journal and take pictures as we go. But there is no way to remember all that we do in our travels.

But, there are some places that stand out, that sort of stand above others. These are often places that we cannot help but remember because of some type of powerful experience we had there.

This was such a place for me:

This is the 18th teebox at Augusta National. Words cannot describe the experience I had attending the Masters Golf Tournament in Augusta, Georgia a couple of years ago. So I will not even try to put to words what the experience meant to me.

The above picture was taken on Wednesday of tournament week, one of the days that cameras are allowed onto the course. I also attended the Thursday round, the first round of tournament play, when cameras are not allowed.

I remember being at this exact same place on Thursday, taking it all in. Something about the place, its magic, its charm caused me to slow down. If you know me, you know that I am notorious for being in a hurry, whether working, traveling, or whatever it may be that I am doing. I had been taking that same approach to my time in Augusta. I was scurrying around, trying to pack as many things into the time I had, trying get to every nook and cranny of the course during my time there.

But for some reason, on that Thursday morning, looking down the fairway on hole number eighteen, I realized that I needed to stop, to smell the roses, if you will, and enjoy the moment. I truly look to that experience, to that particular moment, as a turning point. I think back about that moment and that day and my being forced to slow down and enjoy each moment for what it had to offer as I go about life now.

To truly enjoy the Masters, one must take it all in and be open to what each new moment and each new experience has to offer. Augusta National demands that you calm yourself while on its hallowed grounds. It's the same with life. When we travel, if we listen . . . if we listen to the places we go, if we listen to the people we encounter, if we listen to ourselves, we can learn all sorts of life-changing lessons.

Comparing

While living in Georgia for a few years, we made a couple of trips up to the Smoky Mountains in North Carolina. To be honest, at first, I was not all that impressed with the Smokies. Upon seeing them, I would always compare them with the Rocky Mountains that I had seen in Colorado. And I would immediately criticize what we found in North Carolina for being substandard to what we found hundreds of miles to the west.

That's unfortunate. I think it's probably part in our DNA, though. The need to compare things is probably what makes us human. But it also keeps us from enjoying, or at least appreciating, what we witness.

As you can see, the Smokies are quite amazing. The way they roll off into the fog in the distance makes them look like . . . well, like they disappear into the smoke (hence, the name).

The reality is that they are nothing like the Rocky Mountains. But then again, the Rockies are nothing like the Smokies. They are apples and oranges, both amazing, in and of themselves.

I realized this while hiking to the top of Grandfather Mountain, close to Boone, as seen in the picture above. We need to fight, or at least acknowledge, the instinct that is deep within each of us to be constantly comparing our surroundings with other things or with what we know best. The world is made up of lots of amazing things, each different and unique from each other. We need not always compare them. We would be better off to take in and enjoy what is in front of us for what it is.

Eating Your Way Through Boston

Boston is a great city. Lots of interesting things to do. Historical sites there go back hundreds of years. I recommend any number of things to see and do while you are there.

But if you go, please, please, please make sure you visit the North End section of town. This is where the most amazing Italian restaurants are found.

Regina Pizzeria (top picture) is, well . . . I'm not going to put a lot of words together to describe it. Words fail. Best pizza I've ever had. Not going to say anymore (it wouldn't do any good).

The next pic is from another restaurant in the North End. Unfortunately, I have no idea what the name of the restaurant. Since our Boston trip, I have began keeping very detailed journals of our trips, to remember things. But I have no idea what this is called. I know it is on a major road going through that area, so I'm guessing it's on Hanover St.

I came across it while walking by. I wanted seafood; and this seemed to fit the bill. And if I remember correctly, a local on the street recommended it (that's usually a great way to find good food). What you see in the pic is the entire size of the restaurant. That's it: one room. All the cooking, serving, eating, everything is done in that tiny room. There is one more table besides what you can see in the pic; and that's all the seats.

I was looking for good service that day. Unfortunately, that's not what you find here. Seats are limited, so they try to get you in and get you out. The food was good. But unfortunately, I, without realizing it, ordered octupus. Not much they can do with an octupus. There was, however, other sides that came along with it. And they were very tasty. Another interesting thing about this place is that you eat out of what they cook the food in. I ate my food in the very same pan it was cooked in. As you can imagine, all the juices and seasonings that were found in the pan also made it into my mouth. Very nice.

As you will find in so many other places, what goes hand-in-hand with food in making a place memorable is the people. For example, I remember looking for a particular restaurant during our stay and having a difficult time. We were walking down a side street, feeling very lost. A construction worker across the road was really giving it to a fellow worker, cussing him and up and down. As soon as he finished his profanity-laced rant, he looked up and saw us, asked if we needed help, and proceeded to give us the most welcoming and friendly directions you could imagine.

Interesting people and amazing food: quite a combination.

Pictures Cannot Describe

Cameras are a wonderful thing. We can capture so much of our experiences through snapping a photo here and there. That gives us something that we will always remember and is often a window through which we can share our experiences with others.

But there is much cameras cannot capture.

I learned that, especially, on a trip to Hilton Head Island, South Carolina. Hilton Head is an island that has been as protected as possible from development. That's not to say that trees have not been cleared or that nature has not been displaced. That has happened. But the original developers had a mission that they would leave the land as undisturbed as possible. And that mission continues today.

The result is a place that is as ecologically-sound as possible. That also means the place is beautiful. I found that snapping pictures simply did not do the place justice. I felt as if I were literally staying in a forest. But I could not describe it, with pictures. You simply have to experience it.

When that is the case, we should take some pictures to help us remember the place. But we should not spend all of our time to trying to capture the essence the place. We need to enjoy the time we have there. And that is, really, a lesson for all of our travels. We do not need to spend so much time and energy attempting to capture our experiences on film that we miss out on actually experiencing what it is that we are trying to enjoy.

A key is what you do when you first come upon a site, an attraction, or something that is worth seeing or experiencing. If your first reaction is to get some great pictures of it, then to spend some time trying to experience what it is you have come to see, that's not good. On the other hand, if try to experience it and enjoy it, then take a little time to try to capture it on film, then move on, that's the way to do it. I have found myself too often trying to do the former rather than the latter. When I do that, I rob myself of the joy of experiencing something new and the thrill of surprise when what you have come to see is different than what you expected.

Hilton Head helped me learn to fully take new experiences and surroundings in and, then and only then, to concern myself with capturing it on film because pictures simply did not do the place justice. I did, however, get a few very interested, and good, pictures in, such as this one:

And, by the way, seeing the sun rise over the Atlantic Ocean is spectacular.

Anticipation

A seminary professor once told a class that I was a part of, "Anticipation is over 50% of the fun of an event."

He was referring to events and projects that churches put on. If you plan and promote an event well, he said, people will really anticipate it and look forward to it, so much so that over half of the joy they receive from the event will be from their preparation for the event.

I think that's true in the context that he spoke of it. I think it's also true with so many other things in life. If we plan and prepare our travels well, the same can be said of travelling. Preparing ourselves, both our plans and mentally, for a trip can help us enjoy the entire experience much more than simply showing up and hoping good things will happen. As Rick Steves says, "Anyone who equips themselves with good information and expects themselves to travel smart, can."

For example, my wife and I recently found out that we have conferences at roughly the same time in Wisconsin. Because of this, we will be able to enjoy travelling to and then around that state together, as we experience the wonderful conferences that are in store for us. Though the trip is still months away, we spent last week looking at travel plans and opportunities that are available to us. As an aside, it's a good thing that we did because lodging and other logistics were almost booked to capacity. That's why making plans and reservations early always pays off.

By looking at possibilities, both separately and together, we were able to begin thinking and even dreaming about our travel, what it will be like, and what we hope to gain from the experience. One must keep things in balance, though. I have planned travel before and, in a sense, got myself so worked up with all of the good things that I just knew were going to happen, only to be disappointed when certain things did not pan out the way I thought they would. Good preparations can help build our expectations up and can even help us go into a trip with a good attitude. But we must always balance that with reality and know that, just like in our day-to-day lives, things do not always go as we plan. When that occurs, we have to be open to new possibilities and keep our heads up, always looking out for new possibilities of how we can enjoy and learn from our experiences.

But key to making that happen is anticipation: anticipating the great possibilities that travel can bring us and anticipating that we will react well to surprising situations that arise along the way.

Mountaintops

There is something about being up high, on top of a mountain that really makes me feel good. Being up, high above it all, gives you a different view, a different perspective.

Cloudland Canyon State Park is a little gem, in northwest Georgia. Not particularly close to any cities of size, you have to know where you are going to get there. But once you do, you are rewarded with views like this:

There are parallels with views like this and life. When my wife and I visited the park, our trip took us a few hours. I can remember nearing the park but still being quite a distance from it, wondering if the trip would be worth it. As you can see, it was most definitely worth it.

Getting up high gives you a different perspective. We need to view life through different lenses, through different perspectives, at times. Not that we always want or need to stay in that perspective. But looking at things differently keeps us from getting stuck in a rut, from thinking there is only one way to tackle an issue or a particular challenge.

That helps us to live our lives differently, better. We are able to see things differently when we travel, to be transformed, if you will. That's what travel can do . . . it can transform us.

What Makes Up a Place

When we think about a place, we most likelly think about its natural beauty, its historical landmarks, perhaps the architecture that makes it unique from other places. But one thing that we do not consciously think about much is the type of business that make up a place (though I would suggest we do think about it, unconsciously, almost all the time).

For example, if you were looking through pictures, you would never mistake small-town Alabama for New York City. Small towns have certain types of business that one would never find in New York City, such as a geographically-based dollar store . . . and vice versa, such as street vendors selling thin-crust pizza.

Where would you expect to see this?:

That's definitely not New York City. I was surprised to see this business a few years ago while travelling through Alabama. We had one of these dollar stores in the town I grew up in. But I had not seen one for many years.
Same with this:

This was also in a small town in Alabama. Made me laugh because I used to work at one of these in high school.

Pictures like this cause you to think of a certain type of place, one that would never be mistaken for a different type of place. That does not make one type of place necessarily better than another type; it simply distinguishes it, makes it unique, makes it different. That is what's wonderful about travelling, being exposed to all kinds of different places. At worst, travel can bring out the ethnocentricity in all of us, causing us to feel superior to others who might be a bit different than us, who live in a different setting, with different circumstances. But at best, it can help us see that we are all part of one big family, here on Planet Earth, with many similarities . . . and also a few differences sprinkled in to give life some flavor.

The following photo does not really do much . . . except show an Alabama restaurant chain that has really good food: