Training notes: Today was a much better day. After battling a virus of some sort I feel back on track. To that end I managed 9000 steps! Yay me. Even with wind and rain and a lot of commitments, I got in the 9k. Feel pretty good about that. Let's see if it can be bested tomorrow. (For the record, pacing your hallway during phone calls is a great way to get in extra steps).
Travel notes: I find myself going back and forth on how real this is. I so want to do this. I so very much want to do this. And yet I worry about everything that can go wrong to derail the trip. The cost of airfare, the cost of lodging and food, who will go, who won't go, what happens if I have to do it alone. Can I even imagine doing it alone?
I don't want to fall into my former mind set of putting trips off until. Untils are deceptive. Until next year. Until I have just a little more money. Until my friend(s) can join me. Until I have a romantic partner to share it with. Until I feel more comfortable. Until things are more settled at work (at home, in the relationship). Untils give you a false security. It won't be that much longer until. Until you realize that first until was five years ago. Until you realize that you lost out an opportunity. Until you are no longer physically able to go. Until you really do have to many commitments.
A few years ago I lost several people in my life. It was spread out over the year. The first was in March, the last was in October. They ranged from my 21 year old nephew to my 90 year old grandmother. In between were a good friend and a mentor. The friend, Roger, made me promise him that I would take a trip. Sooner rather than later. It was the following year that I went to Europe for the first time. It was the first time I had been outside the country, other than two trips to Canada. It was scary and exhilarating and amazing.
The trip wasn't easy. In fact at points it was horrible. Friends who had promised me a place to stay in Paris suddenly decided there was no room for me. After I had landed, after they had picked me up at the airport. I was abandoned to a hotel and told they would fetch me the next day around noon. I was ready to pick up my bag and head straight back to the airport. Then I realized - I'm in Paris! I spent several amazing mornings wandering around the city by myself. I got lost several times and managed to find my way back. It was the most empowering thing that had happened to me in my life.
My point is this. I don't want to wait for perfect moments any longer. There are no perfect moments you can plan for. If you are lucky, you can stumble into them now and again. If you work hard you can find yourself there. But you can't plan for them. So whatever it is that you are telling yourself will wait until - a trip, a career change, a relationship - understand now that you might wait until that moment is past.
Wednesday, March 14, 2012
Monday, March 12, 2012
Local Travels
Training notes: Today was miserable, barely broke 3k today, and the high for the weekend was 6k. Partly because I was on the road for a good part of Saturday (driving, that is), and partly because it was just a wet and yucky few days. Add to it that I am battling something - a virus, or perhaps just a revolt from my body over all the exercise it has been subjected to. But I am painfully aware of just how little movement I get if I don't think about it. Tomorrow, back on track. Literally and figuratively.
Travel notes: For some reason I have this prejudice that travel has to involve some place far, far away. As I commented in my training notes, I did some traveling this weekend. By car, about an hour and a half away; hardly the stuff of epic adventure. Still, it was fun and I was out of town. It was indeed a trip. I have to remind myself of that occasionally because traveling is a chance to get out of your head, a chance to meet people, a chance to learn something, a chance to change your point of view (or perhaps confirm it), a chance to grow. It doesn't matter if it is 50 miles of 1500 miles or 5000 miles, really. As long as you take the opportunity.
What did I get out of this weekend? I got a chance to be out in the beautiful countryside. I got to talk to new people and old friends. I learned a little bit about wine. I had some great conversations. I got to stand in the fresh air and breathe in the smell of spring rain. Was it ground breaking or earth shattering? No. Travel doesn't always have to be ground breaking or earth shattering. It is often a series of small moments that add up to something after the fact. For now, the small trips will hold me, and for that I am grateful.
Travel notes: For some reason I have this prejudice that travel has to involve some place far, far away. As I commented in my training notes, I did some traveling this weekend. By car, about an hour and a half away; hardly the stuff of epic adventure. Still, it was fun and I was out of town. It was indeed a trip. I have to remind myself of that occasionally because traveling is a chance to get out of your head, a chance to meet people, a chance to learn something, a chance to change your point of view (or perhaps confirm it), a chance to grow. It doesn't matter if it is 50 miles of 1500 miles or 5000 miles, really. As long as you take the opportunity.
What did I get out of this weekend? I got a chance to be out in the beautiful countryside. I got to talk to new people and old friends. I learned a little bit about wine. I had some great conversations. I got to stand in the fresh air and breathe in the smell of spring rain. Was it ground breaking or earth shattering? No. Travel doesn't always have to be ground breaking or earth shattering. It is often a series of small moments that add up to something after the fact. For now, the small trips will hold me, and for that I am grateful.
Friday, March 9, 2012
Anticipation
Training notes: did a half day today, only 5200 steps total. Tendonitis in the left foot kept me from doing more. Finding that I am getting restless for movement which is, I think, progress!
Travel notes: I am starting to think about this trip in real terms now. I've thought about gear, I've thought about places to stay and researched the route. But it hasn't felt real. It is over a year away and that is part of the problem. I still don't have all the logistics worked out, I don't even have the actual dates yet. There is a lot to be done. Like find the money to pay for the thing for starters.
And yet somehow, the last couple of days, it has begun to feel like a reality. Maybe it is writing about it here. Maybe it is the tracking of my fitness progress. Maybe it is a combination of the two. But whatever the reason, I am beginning to think about this as something that will happen rather than just a nebulous plan, a dream, an idea.
Trip planning is often that way for me. I remember my first trip overseas. It didn't feel real to me for a very long time. I did lots of research, talked to a lot of people about it, even bought the ticket, and still doubted I was going. I booked hotels, made plans to meet up with friends in two different places, and bought a new suitcase, and it still didn't feel real to me.
I literally stood in the airport and thought I was insane for doing this. It couldn't be real. I wasn't seriously going to get on a plane and go all the way over there - was I? In fact that whole flight, and most of the first day, there was a pervasive sense that it all wasn't really happening. My second trip, which really wasn't that much later, had a similar feel to it.
Now the reality generally hits the moment I purchase the plane ticket. There is nothing like putting out roughly the same amount of money you pay in monthly rent for a plane ticket to bring reality crashing down around you. And yet, even with that, I still get that lovely sense of anticipation, of the dream coming true, each time I step on a plane to go somewhere. A little voice whispers to me 'you really are doing this!'
And here it is, starting again. I am really going to do this.
Travel notes: I am starting to think about this trip in real terms now. I've thought about gear, I've thought about places to stay and researched the route. But it hasn't felt real. It is over a year away and that is part of the problem. I still don't have all the logistics worked out, I don't even have the actual dates yet. There is a lot to be done. Like find the money to pay for the thing for starters.
And yet somehow, the last couple of days, it has begun to feel like a reality. Maybe it is writing about it here. Maybe it is the tracking of my fitness progress. Maybe it is a combination of the two. But whatever the reason, I am beginning to think about this as something that will happen rather than just a nebulous plan, a dream, an idea.
Trip planning is often that way for me. I remember my first trip overseas. It didn't feel real to me for a very long time. I did lots of research, talked to a lot of people about it, even bought the ticket, and still doubted I was going. I booked hotels, made plans to meet up with friends in two different places, and bought a new suitcase, and it still didn't feel real to me.
I literally stood in the airport and thought I was insane for doing this. It couldn't be real. I wasn't seriously going to get on a plane and go all the way over there - was I? In fact that whole flight, and most of the first day, there was a pervasive sense that it all wasn't really happening. My second trip, which really wasn't that much later, had a similar feel to it.
Now the reality generally hits the moment I purchase the plane ticket. There is nothing like putting out roughly the same amount of money you pay in monthly rent for a plane ticket to bring reality crashing down around you. And yet, even with that, I still get that lovely sense of anticipation, of the dream coming true, each time I step on a plane to go somewhere. A little voice whispers to me 'you really are doing this!'
And here it is, starting again. I am really going to do this.
Thursday, March 8, 2012
It's Your Thing...
Training notes: 8526 steps today. It was a gorgeous day and it made for great walking. I'm tired tonight, but at least not as stiff as I have been the last two nights. Stretching has helped! I look forward to a week or so from now, hoping that it will have gotten at least marginally easier.
Travel notes: Doing some travel planning for a friend as I undertake my own trip creation. The plan is for them to start in Milan, Italy and then go to Greece. To my surprise I originally heard myself trying to talk them out of this. Milan is in Northwest Italy; Greece sits off the south east coast. Madness! Thankfully, he was persistent and I stopped being a know it all for a few moments to really listen to what he wanted to do.
Turns out, this isn't that hard. There are inexpensive (i.e., EasyJet) flights from Milan to several places in Greece. What's the big deal? Where's the problem? The problem, sadly, was with me. My idea of the trip was that if he was going to be in Northern Italy, he needed to stay in that region. It would take too long, I reasoned, to get from point A to point B. Except that it doesn't. It is, in fact, relatively easy.
All it took was a little planning. Thinking outside the box? Not really. Just paying attention and digging a little deeper. Oh, and listening - really listening - to what he wanted for this trip.
It got me to thinking though, about how many people probably end up modifying their trip because someone else thinks they need to change it. I know I have. No one died, sure; but more than once I changed significant portions of a trip because someone else thought I needed to do something different. A good travel planner, a good friend, should ask questions and listen to the answers.
I am now applying that to my own trip. Where do I want to go? What do I want to accomplish? What do I want to see? Where do I want to stay? I have been trying to create a trip that will please everyone, a trip that will be irresistible to the people I invite to join me. And yet all that gets me is a trip that pleases few people, most of all me. It comes from statements like "that sounds...interesting. But you know what I would like to do?" or "well, if you were going to this place instead, that I would be up for."
Trips are personal and individual, make them your own. Don't let people talk you out of your ideas - unless of course, they really are dangerous or un-doable. I am taking that advice to heart.
Travel notes: Doing some travel planning for a friend as I undertake my own trip creation. The plan is for them to start in Milan, Italy and then go to Greece. To my surprise I originally heard myself trying to talk them out of this. Milan is in Northwest Italy; Greece sits off the south east coast. Madness! Thankfully, he was persistent and I stopped being a know it all for a few moments to really listen to what he wanted to do.
Turns out, this isn't that hard. There are inexpensive (i.e., EasyJet) flights from Milan to several places in Greece. What's the big deal? Where's the problem? The problem, sadly, was with me. My idea of the trip was that if he was going to be in Northern Italy, he needed to stay in that region. It would take too long, I reasoned, to get from point A to point B. Except that it doesn't. It is, in fact, relatively easy.
All it took was a little planning. Thinking outside the box? Not really. Just paying attention and digging a little deeper. Oh, and listening - really listening - to what he wanted for this trip.
It got me to thinking though, about how many people probably end up modifying their trip because someone else thinks they need to change it. I know I have. No one died, sure; but more than once I changed significant portions of a trip because someone else thought I needed to do something different. A good travel planner, a good friend, should ask questions and listen to the answers.
I am now applying that to my own trip. Where do I want to go? What do I want to accomplish? What do I want to see? Where do I want to stay? I have been trying to create a trip that will please everyone, a trip that will be irresistible to the people I invite to join me. And yet all that gets me is a trip that pleases few people, most of all me. It comes from statements like "that sounds...interesting. But you know what I would like to do?" or "well, if you were going to this place instead, that I would be up for."
Trips are personal and individual, make them your own. Don't let people talk you out of your ideas - unless of course, they really are dangerous or un-doable. I am taking that advice to heart.
Wednesday, March 7, 2012
Getting Past Scary
Training notes: dismal day, only reached 7300 steps. I did get in my 2.5 mile walk, but it felt like I was tethered to the computer for most of the day. Tomorrow we shall do better! I am stiff and sore and my body is in full rebellion at being made to move. I keep telling myself it will get better. That it is better now to be a bit stiff and sore with the knowledge that soon it won't be this hard than it is to keep on the way I have been and be like this from just getting out of bed in the morning. The big picture is keeping me moving. I hope.
Travel notes: Today I got to thinking about gear. It may be a bit premature, but as I was walking across a grassy field, I started to think about how for the most part, the trek takes you over fields and such. Not nice, even, paved roads. Boots are in order. Boots for stability and to keep the ankle strong. Boots that can handle some muck and mud, get you over the wobbly ground. So I will need to get boots, which are expensive. For something like this you don't want to go with the cheap special at the odd name brand shoe store. For this you want to go to the places that employ people who know about trekking. This is not a place to cut corners.
While perusing some sites for just that item, I began to look at things like clothes. Is this a trek to be made in jeans? Do I want something lighter? Being Scotland, being fields, I probably want long pants because there will be brambles and probably midges and other biting pests. Then it was walking sticks and backpacks and all the rest of it. This could cost some serious coin!
It isn't a deterrent, though I suspect there is a part of my brain - the part that is tired and stiff - that is desperately trying to sabotage my efforts. "oh, yeah, see? Too expensive! You should take that money and find a really nice spa to spend the week at." I suspect there is a part of me that is still not convinced I can do this and is looking for excuses. "had this great trip planned, but wow, it was so expensive I just stayed home." Maybe part of it is fear of failing at it, that I will get a quarter or a third of the way and have to give up and thus is trying to short circuit the whole thing.
Travel is fun, travel is exciting and broadening and wonderful. It is all the things that make those glossy brochures so enticing. But travel is also a bit scary. It is going someplace far away, someplace that is really different from wherever your particular here is. That's the truth of it. I have butterflies every single time a trip takes shape for me. There is always a part of me that is looking for the exit, that frets over the price, that wants to convince me that you can only look at so many museums and churches, that reminds me of narrow and uncomfortable beds, of bad food and bad experiences. Because it would just be easier to stay home.
So half the triumph for me is just getting there. Getting past the voices and the excuses and arriving. It is like climbing a mountain every single time, but the view from the top is always might fine. So yes, I will need boots and a pack and probably some new clothes. I'll cross that bridge when I get to it. Because I'm going to walk the Hadrian's Wall Path.
Travel notes: Today I got to thinking about gear. It may be a bit premature, but as I was walking across a grassy field, I started to think about how for the most part, the trek takes you over fields and such. Not nice, even, paved roads. Boots are in order. Boots for stability and to keep the ankle strong. Boots that can handle some muck and mud, get you over the wobbly ground. So I will need to get boots, which are expensive. For something like this you don't want to go with the cheap special at the odd name brand shoe store. For this you want to go to the places that employ people who know about trekking. This is not a place to cut corners.
While perusing some sites for just that item, I began to look at things like clothes. Is this a trek to be made in jeans? Do I want something lighter? Being Scotland, being fields, I probably want long pants because there will be brambles and probably midges and other biting pests. Then it was walking sticks and backpacks and all the rest of it. This could cost some serious coin!
It isn't a deterrent, though I suspect there is a part of my brain - the part that is tired and stiff - that is desperately trying to sabotage my efforts. "oh, yeah, see? Too expensive! You should take that money and find a really nice spa to spend the week at." I suspect there is a part of me that is still not convinced I can do this and is looking for excuses. "had this great trip planned, but wow, it was so expensive I just stayed home." Maybe part of it is fear of failing at it, that I will get a quarter or a third of the way and have to give up and thus is trying to short circuit the whole thing.
Travel is fun, travel is exciting and broadening and wonderful. It is all the things that make those glossy brochures so enticing. But travel is also a bit scary. It is going someplace far away, someplace that is really different from wherever your particular here is. That's the truth of it. I have butterflies every single time a trip takes shape for me. There is always a part of me that is looking for the exit, that frets over the price, that wants to convince me that you can only look at so many museums and churches, that reminds me of narrow and uncomfortable beds, of bad food and bad experiences. Because it would just be easier to stay home.
So half the triumph for me is just getting there. Getting past the voices and the excuses and arriving. It is like climbing a mountain every single time, but the view from the top is always might fine. So yes, I will need boots and a pack and probably some new clothes. I'll cross that bridge when I get to it. Because I'm going to walk the Hadrian's Wall Path.
Tuesday, March 6, 2012
Not a Cruise Line Kind of Girl
Training update: Broke the 8500 step threshold today. 8544 to be exact. And am I tired! These 2.5 mile walks are hard - or more precisely, sitting at a computer and doing very little for the last year and a half have made getting moving again hard. Food has been good, healthy and in moderation. So yay me. But I am looking forward to the day when the 2.5 mile walk feels a bit too easy and I decide to up it. A glutton for punishment, I suppose!
Travel update:I was looking at a cruise line site today. River cruising. It sounds lovely, doesn't it? A river cruise. A romantic voyage down the Danube or the Volga or the Rhone. I love to look at the deck plans and the pictures. The people always look like they are having a great time. It is usually a couple of indeterminate middle age sitting at a table, on deck chairs, in a small cabin with a large window or balcony. In the case of balconies, one is always outside looking shoreward while the other reads a book in a chair or pours coffee.
It looks idyllic. And it sounds like a great idea. Unpack once, but see a dozen cities in a week or two. Have a traveling hotel room, have a traveling dining room. Have shore excursions with the nice, English speaking crew. I'm not being mean about this. It sounds nice. I know a number of people who would love to do this. Maybe someday I will find myself on one of these cruises.
But for now? For the forseeable future? I'm not a cruise line kind of girl. It is just another way to do the seven planets in five days trip. It is a way to see the major sites of major cities without ever having to talk to a local, ever have to worry about getting lost, ever have to think about anything. And I understand the appeal, but it feels like cheating.
It cheats me out of the experiences I like most. The getting lost on side streets, the discovering of hidden gems of places, the chance to talk to the people at the next table and find out where they had dinner last night, the chance to talk to the waiter who is thrilled to talk to someone from somewhere else. It cheats me out of the chance to get to know the couple who run the place I go to get my morning coffee, to make friends with the cat who lives in the gift shop across from it. It cheats me out of great conversations in laundromats, on trains, over lunch.
I think of the people I have met - the young man who told me about how his family was rescued by an American soldier, the globe trotting ladies whose husbands hate to travel so they see the world while the boys stay home and watch sports, the Chinese college students who were traveling for the first time ever outside their country, the man who decided he couldn't rent me a scooter because there were too many Italians on the road and he didn't think it was safe for me. Even the guy at the security checkpoint in the Split Airport who took my corkscrew - 'was souvenir, now is trash.'
There wouldn't have been pomegranates, still warm from the sun of my landlady's garden. There wouldn't have been the chance to learn about Belgian beers and the different glasses they come in on a slow afternoon in Bruges. There probably wouldn't have been a chance to see the annual ordination of priests at Notre Dame that I stumbled upon, or the chat with the Scottish farmer.
I'm sure there are their own opportunities on a cruise ship. One day I may decide to see for myself. But for now, I'm not a cruise line kind of girl. And I'm okay with that.
Travel update:I was looking at a cruise line site today. River cruising. It sounds lovely, doesn't it? A river cruise. A romantic voyage down the Danube or the Volga or the Rhone. I love to look at the deck plans and the pictures. The people always look like they are having a great time. It is usually a couple of indeterminate middle age sitting at a table, on deck chairs, in a small cabin with a large window or balcony. In the case of balconies, one is always outside looking shoreward while the other reads a book in a chair or pours coffee.
It looks idyllic. And it sounds like a great idea. Unpack once, but see a dozen cities in a week or two. Have a traveling hotel room, have a traveling dining room. Have shore excursions with the nice, English speaking crew. I'm not being mean about this. It sounds nice. I know a number of people who would love to do this. Maybe someday I will find myself on one of these cruises.
But for now? For the forseeable future? I'm not a cruise line kind of girl. It is just another way to do the seven planets in five days trip. It is a way to see the major sites of major cities without ever having to talk to a local, ever have to worry about getting lost, ever have to think about anything. And I understand the appeal, but it feels like cheating.
It cheats me out of the experiences I like most. The getting lost on side streets, the discovering of hidden gems of places, the chance to talk to the people at the next table and find out where they had dinner last night, the chance to talk to the waiter who is thrilled to talk to someone from somewhere else. It cheats me out of the chance to get to know the couple who run the place I go to get my morning coffee, to make friends with the cat who lives in the gift shop across from it. It cheats me out of great conversations in laundromats, on trains, over lunch.
I think of the people I have met - the young man who told me about how his family was rescued by an American soldier, the globe trotting ladies whose husbands hate to travel so they see the world while the boys stay home and watch sports, the Chinese college students who were traveling for the first time ever outside their country, the man who decided he couldn't rent me a scooter because there were too many Italians on the road and he didn't think it was safe for me. Even the guy at the security checkpoint in the Split Airport who took my corkscrew - 'was souvenir, now is trash.'
There wouldn't have been pomegranates, still warm from the sun of my landlady's garden. There wouldn't have been the chance to learn about Belgian beers and the different glasses they come in on a slow afternoon in Bruges. There probably wouldn't have been a chance to see the annual ordination of priests at Notre Dame that I stumbled upon, or the chat with the Scottish farmer.
I'm sure there are their own opportunities on a cruise ship. One day I may decide to see for myself. But for now, I'm not a cruise line kind of girl. And I'm okay with that.
Monday, March 5, 2012
84 Miles of History
Training notes: 8019 steps today, made all the sweeter by the fact that two of my walks were in really awful weather. I wanted to stay inside, but hey - I'm planning a walk in the borderlands! Weather may not be fabulous all the time. So I look at it as good experience. Need to up the step number. Tomorrow I shoot for 8500. A small goal, but a goal.
Travel notes: I note from the Hadrian's Wall Path website that the entire path is 84 miles long. It sounded like a decently long walk and I guess that it still is. Then again, I watched "The Way" last night and after doing a bit of reading I find that the Pilgrimage to Santiago de Compostela is about 485 miles. So comparatively speaking, my trip is a walk in the park (which it literally is as parts of it cross through the Northumberland National Park).
While people have been making the pilgrimage for hundreds, if not thousands, of years; my path was opened in 2003. Why all the comparisons? I'm not sure. I suppose that I am wondering why any of us choose to undertake long walks. Do we have some hard wiring that makes us want to journey? I think maybe we do. As my brother Erik has often said, there is a wanderlust that allowed us to spread out across the globe.
So is this trip a pilgrimage for me? I think in a way it is. I love history. I love travel. I am attracted to the idea of walking across the island that is the UK. Maybe it is a way to feel like I am not yet old. Then again, I am pretty sure that when I am 70 (which is still a couple of decades away) I will be planning my next walking trip. Or at the very least, my next trip. Just because I can. Just to do it.
The reality, the heart of the matter I think, is that I feel we are overly programmed to stay on the road. Color within the lines. We see our world from windows - from a car, a train, a bus, a plane. I was always the kid who looked out the window at those mysterious side roads that wound their way off the freeway or the highway and wondered what was there, where they led to. In my travels I am often sidetracked by the side roads. It doesn't matter where I am, I am always looking down the road and wondering what's that way.
It's been a wonderful obsession, I have found some really cool stuff. A side road in Lyon led to a great little eatery. A side road in London led to bookstore that was incredible (I tried to find it again, to no avail). A side road in Dubrovnik led to a posh bar with the best mojito I have ever had; and in Sarajevo it led to a nightclub in a basement with rock walls (literally, a basement that seemed carved out of the rock around it) where we drank too many gin and tonics and danced like no one was looking.
Yes, it is a path. But it is a path that is without cars, where the only traffic is other walkers, some sheep and maybe a cow or two. It is walking a path that was patrolled by Roman soldiers. A chance to see something without a pane of glass between me and it. To be able to literally touch history, to have that wonderful sensation of the weight of history washing over you; to be awash in it.
And there, right there in that last sentence is the answer to the question. This is a pilgrimage. An unorthodox one, perhaps. but I am compelled to do it. That alone rocks me back on my heels a bit.
Travel notes: I note from the Hadrian's Wall Path website that the entire path is 84 miles long. It sounded like a decently long walk and I guess that it still is. Then again, I watched "The Way" last night and after doing a bit of reading I find that the Pilgrimage to Santiago de Compostela is about 485 miles. So comparatively speaking, my trip is a walk in the park (which it literally is as parts of it cross through the Northumberland National Park).
While people have been making the pilgrimage for hundreds, if not thousands, of years; my path was opened in 2003. Why all the comparisons? I'm not sure. I suppose that I am wondering why any of us choose to undertake long walks. Do we have some hard wiring that makes us want to journey? I think maybe we do. As my brother Erik has often said, there is a wanderlust that allowed us to spread out across the globe.
So is this trip a pilgrimage for me? I think in a way it is. I love history. I love travel. I am attracted to the idea of walking across the island that is the UK. Maybe it is a way to feel like I am not yet old. Then again, I am pretty sure that when I am 70 (which is still a couple of decades away) I will be planning my next walking trip. Or at the very least, my next trip. Just because I can. Just to do it.
The reality, the heart of the matter I think, is that I feel we are overly programmed to stay on the road. Color within the lines. We see our world from windows - from a car, a train, a bus, a plane. I was always the kid who looked out the window at those mysterious side roads that wound their way off the freeway or the highway and wondered what was there, where they led to. In my travels I am often sidetracked by the side roads. It doesn't matter where I am, I am always looking down the road and wondering what's that way.
It's been a wonderful obsession, I have found some really cool stuff. A side road in Lyon led to a great little eatery. A side road in London led to bookstore that was incredible (I tried to find it again, to no avail). A side road in Dubrovnik led to a posh bar with the best mojito I have ever had; and in Sarajevo it led to a nightclub in a basement with rock walls (literally, a basement that seemed carved out of the rock around it) where we drank too many gin and tonics and danced like no one was looking.
Yes, it is a path. But it is a path that is without cars, where the only traffic is other walkers, some sheep and maybe a cow or two. It is walking a path that was patrolled by Roman soldiers. A chance to see something without a pane of glass between me and it. To be able to literally touch history, to have that wonderful sensation of the weight of history washing over you; to be awash in it.
And there, right there in that last sentence is the answer to the question. This is a pilgrimage. An unorthodox one, perhaps. but I am compelled to do it. That alone rocks me back on my heels a bit.
Sunday, March 4, 2012
When I Win the Lottery
Training note: Today is Sunday. My knee hurts, my back hurts, and I am stiff. Exercise, what a concept. Today I am giving myself leave to not put the pedometer on, just walk as much as I can and not think about it. Three days of this and I was obsessing, so a break is in order. Sundays will be my day of rest.
Travel thoughts: If I won the lottery, I would spend a year or so - maybe more - traveling. I love to travel. Not in a five planets in seven days kind of way; all that is is check-listing. The Louvre? Check. Big Ben? Check. Sydney Opera House? Check. It becomes rush, rush, rush - take a look, take a photo, what's next? My kind of travel is to plant myself in a city for five or six days and really take it in. The least I'm comfortable with is two nights, and I tend to reserve that for places I've been before.
But if I won the lottery? I would stretch each of those stays into two weeks, a month. Set up a base and roam around it. Rent a little apartment - it doesn't have to be huge, a studio is fine, a place with a kitchen and a bed and a bathroom and I'm good - and see all I can see, then head out into the surrounding area and see that. Sure, I would probably pop back here every little bit. Sometimes you just need your own bed, your posse, your family, to keep your equilibrium. But mostly I would travel.
I would send my friends tickets to meet me places. Erik and Bob would get tickets to London most likely. Sharon and Mitch would meet me in France. Geoff and I would hang out in Australia. Kent would end up in wine country somewhere. Marilee would come to Ireland. In between I would just go where I wanted. The best trips to me are that nice mixture of traveling alone interspersed with meeting up with friends.
You can do things when you travel alone that you can't in a group. For one thing you can do what you want to do without negotiation. That alone is worth the price of admission since most of us (especially women) tend to not negotiate as much as cave. You can change your mind on a whim or a tip, totally change what it was you were going to do just because.
Examples - I was walking by a theater in London a few years ago having spent a wonderful morning exploring all the little back streets around Covent Garden and the environs. I had planned to have a nice dinner and go to bed early because I had something (I forget what) lined up for the next morning. The theater was advertising a play by Tom Stoppard, who I adore. I stood out front for a moment, then ducked into the ticket office and got a great deal on a seat for that night. It was a great play (Arcadia) and I had a great time. No one to confer with, I just did it. On a previous trip in Croatia I stayed an extra three nights on the island of Hvar because I was having such a great time. Harder to do with a travel partner (unless they are very like minded).
In any case, for me the best trips are a combination of friends and alone time. I suspect this Hadrian's Wall trip will fall out that way. I'll go over and spend some time alone in Edinburgh or Glasgow, we'll all meet up in Newcastle, head out on our walk (I think we will start the actual trek at Haddon-on-Wall - isn't that a great place name?) and maybe spend a celebratory night or two in London before again scattering on our separate ways.
Maybe I'll have won the lottery by then. If so, I will go to Italy. Or France. Or maybe Germany. If I time it right, I can be there just before grape harvest. Okay, I have to go now. I need to buy a ticket.
Travel thoughts: If I won the lottery, I would spend a year or so - maybe more - traveling. I love to travel. Not in a five planets in seven days kind of way; all that is is check-listing. The Louvre? Check. Big Ben? Check. Sydney Opera House? Check. It becomes rush, rush, rush - take a look, take a photo, what's next? My kind of travel is to plant myself in a city for five or six days and really take it in. The least I'm comfortable with is two nights, and I tend to reserve that for places I've been before.
But if I won the lottery? I would stretch each of those stays into two weeks, a month. Set up a base and roam around it. Rent a little apartment - it doesn't have to be huge, a studio is fine, a place with a kitchen and a bed and a bathroom and I'm good - and see all I can see, then head out into the surrounding area and see that. Sure, I would probably pop back here every little bit. Sometimes you just need your own bed, your posse, your family, to keep your equilibrium. But mostly I would travel.
I would send my friends tickets to meet me places. Erik and Bob would get tickets to London most likely. Sharon and Mitch would meet me in France. Geoff and I would hang out in Australia. Kent would end up in wine country somewhere. Marilee would come to Ireland. In between I would just go where I wanted. The best trips to me are that nice mixture of traveling alone interspersed with meeting up with friends.
You can do things when you travel alone that you can't in a group. For one thing you can do what you want to do without negotiation. That alone is worth the price of admission since most of us (especially women) tend to not negotiate as much as cave. You can change your mind on a whim or a tip, totally change what it was you were going to do just because.
Examples - I was walking by a theater in London a few years ago having spent a wonderful morning exploring all the little back streets around Covent Garden and the environs. I had planned to have a nice dinner and go to bed early because I had something (I forget what) lined up for the next morning. The theater was advertising a play by Tom Stoppard, who I adore. I stood out front for a moment, then ducked into the ticket office and got a great deal on a seat for that night. It was a great play (Arcadia) and I had a great time. No one to confer with, I just did it. On a previous trip in Croatia I stayed an extra three nights on the island of Hvar because I was having such a great time. Harder to do with a travel partner (unless they are very like minded).
In any case, for me the best trips are a combination of friends and alone time. I suspect this Hadrian's Wall trip will fall out that way. I'll go over and spend some time alone in Edinburgh or Glasgow, we'll all meet up in Newcastle, head out on our walk (I think we will start the actual trek at Haddon-on-Wall - isn't that a great place name?) and maybe spend a celebratory night or two in London before again scattering on our separate ways.
Maybe I'll have won the lottery by then. If so, I will go to Italy. Or France. Or maybe Germany. If I time it right, I can be there just before grape harvest. Okay, I have to go now. I need to buy a ticket.
Saturday, March 3, 2012
A Step in a New Direction
I've let this languish for better than a year, having spent my time in the trenches looking for work, mostly unsuccessfully, then realizing that the work I was looking for was not what I wanted to do. I have reinvented myself as a freelancer. It is a frightening, exhilarating, frustrating and incredibly rewarding experience and while it is not the most lucrative job, I'm doing okay and having fun.
But what brings me back here is the chance to make this about my next big adventure. I am going to walk the Hadrian's Wall trail in the borderlands of Northumberland. I will be doing this a year from this coming July and I needed a place to keep track of my progress. Because, you see, I need to get in shape for this. It has been a hit or miss project for the last three months; the whole project hasn't seemed real. A nice dream, a great idea, really someone should do this someday; just not real to me.
So as I was out walking yesterday I thought of this spot. The name fits, the very next step, sounds like something to do with walking, right? It has served as a travel blog in many ways - travel to Europe, travel through the landscape of job hunting, now it will see my journey to fighting form and hopefully through the journey along the ancient wall.
In that spirit - info on Hadrian's Wall from the UK National Trails:
National Trails UK
And some information on the region:
Hadrian's Wall Country
And now on to my walking program.
My first goal is to hit the 10,000 steps a day that we are all supposed to get. For the last week I have been averaging about 8000, so I am a bit short. By March 10th I want to have hit the 10k mark consistently for four days. A modest goal, but it is the equivalent of five miles a day. Most of the itineraries for this walk average about nine miles of country walking - across fields, over stiles (those lovely little steps up and over field fencing), with a variety of changes in elevation. But for now, for March, 10k or five miles is the goal. I intend on updating this every evening with my step count. I also will be talking about the other preparations - who is going, what tour companies I am looking at or if I will try to put my super travel powers to the test and arrange it all myself.
Comments are appreciated, especially if you have done this walk or have your own adventure in the making!
Update 11:04 pm: step count for the day reached 8378. Getting closer!
But what brings me back here is the chance to make this about my next big adventure. I am going to walk the Hadrian's Wall trail in the borderlands of Northumberland. I will be doing this a year from this coming July and I needed a place to keep track of my progress. Because, you see, I need to get in shape for this. It has been a hit or miss project for the last three months; the whole project hasn't seemed real. A nice dream, a great idea, really someone should do this someday; just not real to me.
So as I was out walking yesterday I thought of this spot. The name fits, the very next step, sounds like something to do with walking, right? It has served as a travel blog in many ways - travel to Europe, travel through the landscape of job hunting, now it will see my journey to fighting form and hopefully through the journey along the ancient wall.
In that spirit - info on Hadrian's Wall from the UK National Trails:
National Trails UK
And some information on the region:
Hadrian's Wall Country
And now on to my walking program.
My first goal is to hit the 10,000 steps a day that we are all supposed to get. For the last week I have been averaging about 8000, so I am a bit short. By March 10th I want to have hit the 10k mark consistently for four days. A modest goal, but it is the equivalent of five miles a day. Most of the itineraries for this walk average about nine miles of country walking - across fields, over stiles (those lovely little steps up and over field fencing), with a variety of changes in elevation. But for now, for March, 10k or five miles is the goal. I intend on updating this every evening with my step count. I also will be talking about the other preparations - who is going, what tour companies I am looking at or if I will try to put my super travel powers to the test and arrange it all myself.
Comments are appreciated, especially if you have done this walk or have your own adventure in the making!
Update 11:04 pm: step count for the day reached 8378. Getting closer!
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