Category Archives: world

a beautiful day…(and a room with a view)

When I travel, the one blessing of jetlag is that some days just seem to last forever and it’s possible (with a few catnaps) to just keep going and going and going…This last trip to Europe I had one of those days…

It began with breakfast in the hotel dining room (why oh why is European yogurt always better than anything I can find here in the States) and with a hour’s lounging at the sauna, with an amazing view (above).

And then we went to the station to book tickets on the historic Bernina Express train route through the Alps. Without a doubt that train ride was the most scenic that I’ve ever experienced, and we lucked out to have an entire panorama car to ourselves because of it being off-season in the region. Here’s the train station, just before we left (note: click on any of these photos below for a larger view):

swiss trains in St. Moritz

And here are a handful of photos from the trip, as we made our way up and over the Alps (where I learned that swiss green is greener-than-green):

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It was raining and snowing a bit that morning. I loved how the clouds hovered around the tops of the mountains…

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Our views out the windows looked like this (i.e. amazing, there was so much to see):

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Twelve hours in Paris

I loved Clotilde’s post about her proposed “Twelve Hours in Paris” trip and thought I’d play along and tell the story of what I did last summer in the twelve hours that I spent in Paris…

A bit of context first:  Paris wasn’t our main destination, it was a mere ‘stopping point’ on our way from Avignon to London via the TGV.   I’d always wanted to see Montmarte and it was a good excuse for a short stay to accomplish that goal…

We arrived in Paris at around 4pm and rushed to the hotel that we’d booked right next to the train station so we could drop our luggage, change out of our grimy travel clothes, and get on to the city.

Note: if you book a hotwire.com hotel the day before your Paris arrival.  And if you decide to go with the one closest to Montmarte to ease your plan of getting to see the sun set from Sacre Coeur.  And if you just close your eyes to the awful reviews and book that $99 hotel.  Well, maybe you’ll understand what happened next…

We arrived at our hotel, only to be told by the proprietor that we’d been moved to another ‘nearby’ hotel because they were overbooked.  In some broken French he explained that our new hotel was “just around the corner” and gestured randomly towards the door.

I didn’t care.  Because I was in Paris. 

We started walking and consulting our phone GPS.  It was not “just around the corner.”  It was a mile away.  But, wow, we arrive and find we are closer to Sacre Coeur than before.  A good omen, to be sure.

Our room was on the sixth floor.  No elevator, of course.  And every step of those staircases was a different height and a different angle.  The handrails were…not much better than the stairs.  Our room was, of course, the highest and most remote.

The rooftops of Paris!  What could be more exciting!

Though most of the windows looked out onto some dreary brick walls, the view from the window in the bathroom was perfectly spectacular if you were sitting on the toilet and looking up.

We changed our clothes and set out to see the sunset.  I wore my favorite “little black dress,” stockings and ballet flats, in anticipation of a nice dinner in Paris and because I also knew that I wanted whatever photos we took to look nice (not wearing the same grungy travel clothes that I’d been wearing through humid Provence).

And success.  Stairs climbed, city seen from above.
Me and Paris, Paris and Me.Perhaps due to the long day of travel or due to any manner of something-else, my prosthetic leg kept twisting around sidewards as we walked the streets of Paris.  It was the strangest thing to look down and see my toes pointing at my other foot rather than straight ahead.  Added to that was the difficulty in walking I was having because of spraining two of my left toes the day before.  It made for the strangest loping gait.  I affected my best-possible imitation of a tipsy American walking the streets of Paris and just kept plowing forward.  And we headed towards the canals to find a place for dinner.

Jana Takes Europe 448We settled on a small bistro on a charming street and ordered some classic French fare, starting with escargots (yum!).

Shortly after we ordered out dinner, the power went out in the restaurant.  It soon became clear that it wasn’t an entirely uncommon happening–waiters wandering around opening various wall panels in an attempt to re-set the appropriate set of ancient fuses to bring power back to the kitchen.

By the time we finished eating and talking, it was nearly midnite.  We wandered the streets for a few miles before returning to the hotel, making that climb to the top floor in the dark.

Morning came all-too-early as we left the hotel at 4:30am to catch the TGV to London.  A brisk walk with luggage in tow and we made it just in time to buy a latte and a chocolate croissant for the train.

We didn’t see any of my Paris favorites while were in town.  I didn’t nosh a macaron or wander in my favorite shops.  And it didn’t turn out anything like the ‘fantasy’ Paris trips that one would read about in a novel (more mishaps than dreams-come-true, I’d say).

But I didn’t care, I was in Paris.

easter

Last Easter weekend was momentous for me–during my long drive to northern California I did a lot of important thinking, and made some significant decisions about what I wanted from my future.  To see the consequences of decisions made that weekend play out in the year since, is a remarkable thing.

Though I no longer celebrate a Christian holiday at this time of year, it remains an important time for renewal for me.  A time for daffodils and decision-making and peace.

Image above is of the Pysanky eggs that Catgirl creates each year while at the Quaker Easter retreat.  That she spends her Easter holiday among F/friends makes me happy, even if it’s a time that she spends with her father and not with me.

My Top-10 clothing-packing tips

Inspired by this Profhacker post, here are my Top 10 clothing-packing tips.  I believe in keeping things simple, and developed the strategies below so I can minimize the worries that I have before an upcoming trip, and so I can prepare at a moment’s notice.*  For me, that means carrying on one small roll-aboard suitcase with my clothing/toiletries and a shoulder bag with my travel documents and electronics.  For long trips with many transfers, I’ll carry it all in one backpack.

1) Travel light.  If in doubt, don’t bring it. (I can’t emphasize this enough–one can definitely travel in Europe for two weeks and wear the same clothes everyday)

2) Related to #1, Carry on.  If you carry on your bags, you’ll be forced to travel light and can make smoother transfers, and can get where you’re going without needing an assistant or a trolley to get you there.  But egads, don’t be that carry-on person with the too-large expandable-zipper suitcase.  If you can’t lift it over your head and into the bin easily, it’s too much.

3) Make a universal packing list and then customize it for each trip.  I keep my universal packing list in a googledoc (so I can access it from work or phone or home), and then create a new list for a specific trip using the universal list as a template.  Or if my travel is so last-minute that I don’t have time for a custom list, I just use the universal one.

4) Include an outfit list with your packing list.  I print out this list and put it in the inside mesh-zipper pocket of my roll-aboard, where it’s visible every time I open my bag.  I didn’t use to do that, but I found that if I make a list of each outfit that I’ll need for my trip, I’m less likely to forget something like the shoes or the tights that I need to make an ensemble work.  And I’m also less likely to be packing items that I won’t actually wear and will add unnecessary weight (see #1). Also, I rarely bring more than three outfits on a trip–even one that’ll last two weeks.  By outfit list, I mean something like this:

Conference day #2: black slacks; brown sweater with black tank layered underneath; black trouser socks; black flats; gold chain necklace and gold hoop earrings; grey raincoat and blue flowered scarf

As a sidenote:  I’ve you’ve seen me at many conferences you’ve probably realized that I wear the same outfits to most of them.  I like having a “uniform” and making things easy on myself that way–so I can focus on the content of the event and not on fretting about what I’m wearing to and from.  While I also get a lot of pleasure from looking nice when I travel, for me keeping things simple offers that, rather than worrying too much about the details of my clothing choices (and knowing that and being stress-free is more important to me than accessorizing).

5) Wear black and grey items with colored accessories.  It’s true that I probably wear too much black, but it’s so seductive when one is packing light–it not only doesn’t show roadgrime, but it can go from casual to classy just by changing a necklace or a scarf.  For example, one of my must-packs is a black knit dress like this one.  It can go from beach to opera house** depending on whether I wear tights or a belt or boots or chandelier earrings.  I can layer a long-sleeve tee underneath it for winter, too.  My black travel staples include the dress mentioned above, a tanktop, wash & wear dress-slacks, and a long-sleeve tshirt.

6) I try to make sure that every item I bring can be both dressed-up and dressed-down, particularly my bulky outerwear because I don’t want to bring along more than one coat or jacket.  For example, for winter I’ve got a hip-length grey wool peacoat that looks good with jeans and a t-shirt, as well as over a cocktail dress.  For fall weather I bring along an artsy-looking black velvet blazer with a bright-colored lining that can be worn with tailored clothes, casual, or dressy.

7) I wear one pair of shoes and pack another.  Usually I wear something more casual (i.e.  Cons) and pack a pair of black flats.  If it’s winter and I need to bring boots along, then I sacrifice a lot of suitcase real-estate to do so (it’s rarely worth it to me).

8) For me, going through TSA checkpoints can be a bit of a hassle (i.e. I always get the patdown), so I tend to wear as little clothing as possible for those encounters.  Usually that means a knit dress over leggings or a tank top with slacks or jeans.  That way, there’s no mystery about what I might be “hiding” under my clothes.  Most importantly, I carry the same bags every time I travel so I’m familiar with exactly what they look like and how they feel in my arms. So I can easily tell if I’ve forgotten anything, or left an item behind on the conveyor belt–even when my mind is preoccupied about whether I’ve got time for my flight transfers.  Also, I tend to wear socks when I travel because I don’t like the idea of walking barefoot through the TSA area (oh, and I also like going sock-footed while at my seat on the plane).  But maybe I’m just weird that way.

9) Have dual-purpose clothing.  I pack pajama pants that I can also wear to the gym, and a spandex tank-top that can be paired with a skirt for a night out, layered under a sweater for warmth, worn for a workout in the hotel fitness center, or also worn for a dip in the ocean/hotel swimming pool/WaldenPond.  I will confess that I’ve done all of those with the same tank-top in the same trip.  It works, and one can always rinse it out in the sink and let it dry overnight if one doesn’t want eau-du-pond lingering for the rest of your travel.

10) This is only tangentially clothing-related, but is so important to smooth travel, that it warrants being the capstone on this list.  Keep your travel documents in one place, and make that the same place in the same bag every time you travel.  I carry a file folder in my shoulder bag with my travel documents, including itineraries, reservation conformations, train passes, addresses/phone list, and conference schedules.  If I take a document out of that folder, I put it right back in as soon as I’m done.  I also use that same folder to collect receipts for travel reimbursement, or brochures from places that I visited.  If I’m having to jot down some important contact information for my trip on the fly (i.e. my hotel reservation was changed to a different place and I’m copying down an address for a cab driver), I’ll write it directly on the outside of the folder so it’s easy to find.  Then when I get home from the trip I put that folder into my file drawer for future reference.

And a bonus:
11) Streamline electronics.  In an ideal world I would bring my Canon 50d and my MacBook and my phone and e-reader along on every trip.  Instead, for freedom and mobility I allow myself one large (read: heavy) electronics item and I forgo the others.  For example, if I’m headed to Europe for pleasure, I’ll bring my nice camera and leave the laptop.  However, if I’m traveling domestically for work, I’ll probably leave both home unless I’m giving a conference talk and I need to present from my laptop (although Prezi for iPad might mean I no longer do that, soon enough).  I tend to bring my iPad (non-3G because I’m cheap like that) and iPhone on every trip now.  On the iPad I load guidebooks and layover-reading materials.  Given its longer battery life, it’s well-worth the weight of that in addition to my iPhone, which works better for mapping and communicating with fellow travelers or family members back home.

*one day last summer I spent time in three different countries with social obligations in each one that required changes of clothing.  Pulling that off has convinced me that traveling light and simple is the way to go–so I can enjoy the journey more and fret less.
**or to an on-the-spot cameo appearance in the LDS Conference Center
musee d'orsay

Some sounds of New York…

My posting has been a bit thin this week because I didn’t schedule anything beforehand to go up while I’m on this trip to New York City for the Mobility Shifts Summit.  Because I’ve been experimenting with blogposting from my phone, I intended to be doing some on-the-spot blogging as I travel–but that simply hasn’t worked out as well as I’d hoped.  First of all, I don’t find it easy to write blogposts from my phone, even though I have a groovy WordPress app for doing so.  Second, I’m simply being in the moment at this conference, so much so that I’m moving from thing to thing too quickly to write as I go along.

However, the other night as we headed back from a late evening in the East Village, I did pull out my phone and record a few of my favorite sounds on this trip.  The first is a saxophone player in the subway, and the second is the train as it pulled up to the platform (as said saxophonist played on).  My fondness for the NY subway system has grown on this trip, as has my enjoyment of being able to hang my arm out into traffic at any given moment and hail a cab (that would just never happen in LA).  This is only my third-ever trip to NY and I will admit that I wasn’t all that eager to return–I found NY just too large and incomprehensible when I came before.  This time, though, it’s been quite different.  Although I’ve been frustrated (and lost) several times, I’ve learned a lot about myself and about traveling since I was last here.  I’m not afraid to wander streets by myself or to walk a few blocks to get my bearings. And…this city is really starting to grow on me.  🙂

Subway Train

Saxophone Player

memories apart…

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The first experience can never be repeated. The first love, the first sunrise, the first South Sea island, are memories apart and touched with a virginity of sense.
-Robert Louis Stevenson

I think it was about a decade ago, that first night that I ever spent alone (and actually it was not really alone because I still had my kids with me).  I checked and re-checked the locks, I called to my spouse on the phone several times, I had a weapon near the bed (just in case).  I didn’t sleep well at all–every little noise was some bogeyman coming to get me.

I think it was about five years ago that I first slept in a hotel alone.  It was just about the same routine as above.

It was about three years ago that I first took a ride in a taxi by myself.

It was about two years ago that I crossed an international border on my own for the first time (but that was into Canada–does that even count?).

I’ve got (yet) another trip happening in three days, this time to an academic conference that promises to be a path-breaking event.  I’m a little nervous–as I always am just a few days before cross-country travel.  There are many things that could go wrong  (and there are some that will go wrong, and there’s not much at all that I can do about that).  But I am expecting that far more will go just right.  And I can’t wait!

Pictures above from my solo trip to Cape Cod three years ago (still one of my favorite adventures ever) and my summer trip to Europe.

 

my passion…

me & Frida, in the graveyard
On my nightstand right now is Paul Theroux’s The Happy Isles of Oceania: Paddling the Pacific and I’m loving every minute of it–pen in hand underlining the great passages, talking back to the book as I’m reading along, and dreaming about taking a similar trip someday. Theroux is not only paddling the Pacific, but at the same time his marriage is crumbling and he’s renegotiating his life. What a perfect read for me, right now (and it even has trains–of course it has to have a few trains since this is Paul Theroux of The Great Railway Bazaar, after all).

But what I really want to say in my post today isn’t to wax rhapsodic about Theroux, it’s to say something about myself. I want to be a travel writer. Not as my main gig, perhaps, but in the off-season of my everyday academic life. Travel is my passion, it’s what I save my money for, it’s what provokes and pleases me in a way that nothing else does. I dream about the open road, about trains, planes, and trails. And I love writing. I read travel writing more than all other forms of literature on my bookshelf. And, indeed, that’s about all that’s left on my bookshelf these days besides poetry (and most of that is place-specific poetry that I’ve purchased while traveling). I want to tell the stories of my wanderings–I want to share them beyond my small-ish circle of friends. And I want to widen that circle with people that I meet from around the globe.

Yesterday I sent off a short piece of journey-writing to a major periodical and I realized just how right that felt. I held my breath as I pushed the send key on that submission, and then I fretted for a few minutes about whether it got to its destination safely. And now, I’m riding high. That piece has legs and it will keep walking until it finds a good home. I love that feeling. And I want more…

PS: Yes, I will still keep up with my academic writing, but I need this extra stuff. It’s what keeps the juices flowing…

PPS: Pictures above of me in the graveyard near Harvard Square in February of last year and on The Great Wall 5 years ago…

storytelling…

I’ve begun various narratives about my trip to Europe and either deleted them or kept them in the drafts file.  I’m finding it hard to write the whole story of that experience and what it meant to me.  Having been burned a bit by storytelling–especially the impulse to create a tidy, pretty narrative out of something that’s complex or messy…it just isn’t working for me right now.  While my trip wasn’t necessarily messy, it was complicated–I traveled with the intention of letting myself experience many things.  I pushed my comfort zones.  I traveled by saying YES and not letting fear stand in my way.  I traveled to make new memories to replace some painful ones.  And the trip was all of those things, as well as a wonderful way to mark my 40 years of life (happy birthday to me!).  It was utterly unforgettable, and deserves all of the flowery adjectives and adverbs that I’d like to attach to my descriptions of it.  But it was also a bit indigestible and my attempts to create a cohesive story of it have failed, or they just don’t say what I want them to–they don’t even come close to being as intense or as real as what I experienced as I traveled.

So I think I may have reached the limits of my storytelling capacity with this segment of my journey.  Or perhaps…I’m learning that some things are simply better left unsaid?

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