Travel Gripes: Getting There is Half the Battle (Pt. 2 of 2)

I’ve found that it can be just as fun and interesting to travel within the U.S. as it is to travel abroad. Each state has something unique to offer and while I hope to be able to fit in more of that type of travel over time, I haven’t been too thrilled with the process of getting to where I’m trying to go lately. Mother Nature has a way of reminding us that we are not as in control as we like to think and a few of my 2010 trips are evidence of that. I’ve had to adjust to delays stemming from high winds, heavy rain, blizzards, and even a volcanic eruption. But I haven’t let any of this mar my vacations and while I plan to thoroughly check the weather forecasts before venturing out in the future, I know that the mishaps add to the overall experience especially the ones we are least prepared for.

Upon waking during my last day in Virginia, I knew that getting home would be a problem. There wouldn’t be any broken down buses this go-round but the snow that had started the night before now blanketed everything in sight and instead of abating, seemed to be gaining traction. As cozy as my stay had been, I needed to get home so despite the disappointment I felt during the first leg of my trip, I was actually happy that I had decided to take the Chinatown bus instead of flying. They were unlikely to cancel, even during whiteout weather. And when our bus loaded up and took off at a steady pace and only slightly behind schedule, I held out hope that we would arrive at our destination with a two hours delay, at most. Wishful thinking. At 12 hours, my return trip would be just as excruciatingly long as my arrival. Still, as long as the ride was, I was happy to be in a bus and not in any of the numerous abandoned cars we passed on the highway.

My fellow passengers were much more quiet that previous ones, making it easy for me to sleep off and on throughout the first few hours. It was only when we finally made it to the tunnel and had to wait over half an hour for the snow plows to clear the way before they seemed to really come alive. By that point, most of us had been sitting on the edge of our seats for several hours and had been constantly relaying news of our progress to concerned friends and family. But when one passenger decided to exit the bus to ask the policemen why they were blocking our way, several others took it as an opportunity to joke and make fun of her. Looking back, I can understand the change in our collective mood. Although I wouldn’t allow myself to think about anything but making it home, I’m sure that some of us thought that we would have to wait out the storm at some point along the way. Thankfully, we made it to our destination and I got home less than an hour later.

The recent blizzard reminds me of the first blizzard I ever faced, over 10 years ago, not so much because it was almost as fierce but because I couldn’t make it home before it reached its highest point. I remember going to a party thrown by one of my mother's friend earlier that afternoon. By the time my mother was finally ready to leave, the blizzard was picking up speed and instead of taking the risk associated with taking a cab, my mother decided to accept our host’s offer and spend the night. My mother doesn't feel completely comfortable unless she's in her own home. I'm like her that way so when she told her us to get ourselves together the next morning, I was more than ready to go. Unfortunately, the blizzard was still going strong and although we were able to find a taxi to take us part of the way by taxi there was just no escape from the biting cold, burning throat and stinging ears. We had to have trekked home in the snow for at least an hour and while this blizzard was less dramatic and although I was only exposed to the extreme weather for up to 15 minutes, recalling that time that had me anxiously sitting on the edge of my seat all the way home.

Travel Gripes: Getting There is Half the Battle (Pt. 1 of 2)

Undoubtedly, the biggest news surrounding the Tri-State area has been the blizzard that blew through on Sunday and pretty much paralyzed the area through most of Monday. Today, things are getting back to business as usual but last I heard there was snow accumulation of upwards of 20 inches in NYC and I felt just how strong the winds were during my brief foray outdoors on Sunday and Monday. Staying in was definitely the best course of action but since I was returning home from a holiday trip when the blizzard started, I had no choice but to hunker down and hope that I made it there as quickly as possible, with little incident. You see, with a whole day and a half off from work and the promise of an extended weekend, I took the opportunity to book a trip to visit family in Virginia. During the previous weekend, I’d taken a bus down to D.C. and before I could even leave the city, what had started off on a high note quickly went south when I arrived at the pick-up location and came upon the mass of people who were clogging up the sidewalks waiting for their delayed bus. My bus was in turn delayed and it took over two hours of standing in the freezing cold before the bus arrived and we were finally on our way. At the time, I thought that that was the worst that could happen but apparently, I was overly optimistic that nothing would mar the holiday weekend.

In general, I hate traveling during major holidays. There are always too many people in one place and inevitable delays. But it’s a necessary evil. And although I very much wanted to be home on Christmas with the rest of my immediate family, I could not go back on my promise to visit one particular family member who would be alone for the holidays. So I sucked it up and prepared myself to tack on at least another hour to my trip. But I could not have prepared myself for how long my estimated 6-7 hours trip actually lasted. Imagine this, we’re steadily rolling along for close to an hour after pulling away from a rest stop in New Jersey when the bus suddenly slows down and pulls off to a soft shoulder. The driver briefly steps out to check on something and is starting up again within a few minutes. My thoughts at that point were that he really needed a cigarette or to empty his bladder and I couldn’t begrudge him that, as long as there weren’t any more sudden stops. But that was exactly what happened. Not only once but three more times the bus started and stopped before the driver finally announced that he would have to pull into a strip mall close by and we’d have to wait about two hours for another bus! Throughout the stops, a few of my fellow passengers went up to the bus driver and asked him to tell us what was going on. Not an unreasonable request, considering we were paying customers and we were expecting our next and final stop to be in Virginia, not Delaware. But since the driver claimed not to speak any English, he pretty much ignored all questions and said nothing more than he felt that he needed to. One can imagine how someone would react to being ignored in such a manner but that’s Chinatown customer service for you!

The Chinatown bus companies have a long, storied history of poor, rude service, cramped buses and uncommunicative drivers and I saw evidence of this when I boarded the bus. The only words spoken to the customers were instructions to have their tickets available and when a passenger complained that his seat was wet, they told him to sit down. When he refused, the drivers told him to get off the bus and wait for another one and started pulling off before he’d gotten a chance to comply. If this was a sign of things to come, I missed the memo completely. In all fairness, if the proprietors and drivers were bad, the customers weren’t much better either. Many were loud and inconsiderate…but one can concede that their behavior manifested as a result of our shared circumstance.

When our bus broke down, instead of sitting quietly, napping, reading, or doing any type of constructive activity, most of the fifty plus passengers took the opportunity to socialize. Some made frequent trips to the liquor store and smoked and drank steadily for the over fours hours that we had to wait until another bus showed up. Some stayed on the bus and talked in loud voices to the people around them. And some gossiped about the people drinking on the sidewalk. One woman in particular seemed to feel duty-bound to give play-by-play announcements of other people’s activities. When people ran across the parking lot to find a restroom, she reported on it. When a group made yet another trip to the liquor store, she mentioned that too and made her disdain clear. Every word spoken and every action taken was an opportunity for her to comment. And judge. For me, she was one of the most annoying passengers because of her know-it-all, holier-than-thou attitude and strident voice that seemed to reverberate in my ear. Just my luck that she had the seat directly behind me! Of course, the real drama didn’t start until some of the drinkers were drunk enough to feel put out by the fact that we were well beyond the estimated two hours wait and there was no bus in sight and no forthcoming news from the driver. As if this would help our cause, a few of the drunks proceeded to curse and threaten the driver with bodily harm if a bus didn’t show up within a certain amount of time. This went on a few more times and thankfully, the driver survived each encounter unharmed. But I was relieved when a state trooper arrived (someone called to report the bus driver?) and these episodes came to an end. Since I was sitting in the second row, I couldn’t help but witness the exchanges and while the developing drama added interest to what could have been an otherwise dull trip, it shamed me. These were not people who I wanted to spend any considerable amount of time with and I’d have to consider other options when making travel plans in the future.

If I thought that our remaining 3 hours drive would pass in peace and quiet because of the late hour, I was once again proven wrong. Shortly after the state trooper arrived to question the driver and make some calls, another bus pulled up and we were quickly underway. We had first boarded the bus around 3 pm and it was now sometime after midnight. Clearly, many of us were tired but some people, mainly the drunk people, weren’t ready to pass out or let us rest. While the bus was in motion, the walked up and down the aisle, passed out liquor to anyone who wanted some, spoke in loud voices and generally made a nuisance of themselves. Some of the other passengers yelled at them to sit down and shut up and it was another hour before the bus finally quieted down and peace reigned. When I finally disembarked from the bus just before 4 am (a whole 12 hours from when I first boarded), I bitterly regretted that I had purchased a round trip ticket. I was not looking forward to repeating any part of that experience.

Check back for part 2 wherein I recount my attempt to brave a blizzard in order to get home.

Travel Gripes: Homegrown Travel, Las Vegas Edition (Pt. 3 of 3)

I've heard the expression ‘everything's bigger in Texas’ but after my most recent trip to celebrate a friend's birthday, I think it should rightfully be changed to 'everything’s bigger in Las Vegas.' Truly! I used to marvel at the fact that Macy's at Herald Square stretched all the way from 6th to 7th avenue and across two city blocks. But after witnessing the magnificence of the resorts in Vegas— miles and miles of hotel and casino real estate big enough to house roller coasters, theaters, nightclubs, restaurants, and more— I haven’t looked at Macy’s the same way again. While planning this first visit to Las Vegas, N. and I were not wise to the layout. We foolishly thought that one block in our respective cities was equivalent to one city block in Las Vegas and that our hotel, Mandalay Bay, would be well within walking distance of at least mid-strip, although it was located at the south end of the strip. After all, everything looked to be so close together on the maps. How wrong we were! Most resorts stretched upwards and spanned well over a mile. On the plus side, we got plenty of exercise on our daily jaunts. On the other hand, unless one of us had a burning desire to visit another casino, say Treasure Island, we often limited out late-night excursions to casinos that were easily traversed to and from Mandalay Bay on foot.










Our first night in Vegas was…a snooze, but a well-needed one. The plan was to drop off our luggage, freshen up and go down to the casino and/or one of the lounges. Of course, we neglected to take into account that we’d both be working a full day before boarding our flights and that when we arrived, we would have lost three hours with the time change. So what actually happened is that my flight landed just after 10 pm and we arrived exhausted at our hotel just before midnight. Instead of freshening up, we rested up…and woke early the next morning. Sadly, we weren’t quite over our jetlag from that first night because the next night, we again laid down for a rest just after 10 pm and woke up much later than the hour we had planned for that would have had us out the door and flashing our VIP wristbands before the midnight deadline. But while we were catching up on sleep and adjusting to the current time zone those first two nights, we managed to pack a lot into our days.











For breakfast we didn’t stray too far from Mandalay Bay. Our hotel was home to three cafes/buffets and we were content to start our mornings off in a leisurely manner before heading out to explore each day. By chance, we spent a good portion of our time at the MGM Grand (ironically, this was my first choice for accommodations). Since we were situated at one end, MGM Grand seemed to be our connecting point to the rest of strip and each day found us there either gambling (low-risk) and indulging in the free drinks, taking in the Cirque Du Soleil show, Ka, eating what would be our best meal for the entire weekend at Fiamma Trattoria, and patronizing the ultra lounge, Tabu where a group of bachelors tried to convince us to dance on their table. Of course, we also popped into New York New York, Cesar’s Palace and a few other casinos, made time for shopping at the Miracle Mile Shops, took in a low-budget but entertaining variety show, V, and based on the recommendation of a local, ate a truly horribly dinner at Planet Dailies in Planet Hollywood. The Eiffel Tower observation deck was a must-do because it offered amazing views of the entire strip and parts of downtown. We also had a bird’s eye view of the water show in front of the Bellagio and as good as it was up high, it was even more spectacular when we stopped by the posh resort to get a more close-up view. Finally, at N.’ s request, we spent our last day learning about one of the man-made wonders close by, the Hoover Dam. We lucked out with a knowledgeable tour guide who also tacked on stops to the welcome sign, through parts of the downtown area, and across the entire strip, all accompanied with factual tidbits. Quite a bargain! Although we would have loved to have seen it, making it to the Grand Canyon required more time than we had to spare but it really would have been a shame to get so close and not see at least one of the United States’ great accomplishments.











Unfortunately, while we managed to do and see a lot, there were a couple things on our must-do list that we missed out on. After our all-day trip to the Hoover Dam, we had little time in which to eat a quick, overpriced dinner at Border Grill before taking the tram to Excalibur and trekking over to MGM Grand, where we would catch the monorail across the strip near Casino Royale, the closest stop for our ultimate destination, Treasure Island. We burned a fair amount of calories in our attempt to get there before the Sirens of the Cove show started. Only, when we got there, rather than performing the pirates and sirens were posing for pictures! Apparently, because of high winds and inclement weather, the 8:30 pm show had been cancelled. Yes, Vegas was cold and windy! We had the option to check back around 10 pm on the off chance that the next show would go on. Or not! Since we’d already planned to stop by the Flamingo to catch the George Wallace comedy special, we decided against staying and headed southward, bypassing the volcano show at the Mirage. Other than temporarily sheltering us from the cold, the outdated bright pink confection that is the Flamingo was a bust. The comedy show was close to being sold out except for two tables in the back of the room. For N. and I, that just wouldn’t do. We’d luxuriated in the orchestra section when we saw Ka and just couldn’t bring ourselves to pay good money for bad seats. So, we took the only option left to us: headed back to our hotel to get club-ready. Although we had early flights the next morning, we made the most of our last night, flashing our VIP passes at the Foundation Room, the Cathouse, and grooving at a couple of the open area lounges. None could be considered the best clubs I’ve ever been to but I dare say that they made for a fitting end to a trip to fabulous Las Vegas.

Travel Gripes: Homegrown Travel, New Orleans Edition (Pt. 2 of 3)

Independence Day found me smack dab in the middle of a weeklong trip to New Orleans. While G., C. and I had briefly discussed heading down for the Essence Festival in separate conversations last year, no plans were ever formed. This year, planning was quickly underway and everything came together beautifully to the point that months in advance, four of us had both flights and concert tickets in hand. G.’s family hosted and were the epitome of southern hospitality. We ate great local food (jambalaya, gumbo, po’boys), slept in comfortable beds, and basked in good company. While our main purpose for being in town was to attend the concerts and related events, we took full advantage of the opportunity to soak up the culture of a truly unique city.

Insisting that we wake up before 5am so that we could go watch the Steve Harvey Show as it broadcast live at the Convention Center was not one of my brighter ideas. On the occasion when my eyes try to open at such an hour, I usually force them close in my attempt to get another hour or two of sleep in before I have to get up and start my day. But since we were on vacation...We might have survived the morning if we hadn’t spent the previous night barhopping in the French Quarter but since we did, most of us were in crash mode for the better part of the morning. But it’s all about the experience right? Other than that first day, G., C., V., and I enjoyed leisurely mornings followed by days spent shopping, dropping in on the conferences at the Convention Center, people watching, taking the ferry, daiquiri runs, family barbeques, and checking out the changes around town since Hurricane Katrina.

By far, some of our best concert moments include second line dancing with some wanna-be pimps, getting up close and personal with Chrissette Michelle and Estelle in the super lounges, and watching the Mary J. Blige and Alicia Keys performances from the floor of the Superdome. How we got to the floor is a story in and of itself, one that includes a complete loss of dignity, crawling across entire rows of people so that we could get to the security entrance that would give us the best chance of gaining access to the floor where our hook-up was saving premium seats for us. Under normal circumstances I don’t like to beg. I abhor it. So having to beg and being rejected multiple times before the guards took pity on us and finally allowed us entrance left me feeling a bit like groupie that first night. It was more than I was willing to take so being questioned by security and asked to produce a floor ticket while my friends looked on was enough to send me over the edge. I was ready to bite someone's head off and would have surely been kicked out of the arena but thankfully our hook-up came by in the nick of time and helped salvage what could have been an embarrassing end to an interesting evening. Yet, it only took Mary J. walking out on stage to bring us all to our feet and help us forget just how precarious our position really was. Behold, the beauty of great music!

Coming up, highlights of my recent trip to fabulous Las Vegas!

Travel Gripes: Homegrown Travel, Chicago Edition (Pt. 1 of 3)

I love to travel! There’s nothing quite like the excitement I feel when I am getting ready to go off on another adventure. I am not so much a fan of the process of getting there (who wants to be bothered with long flights and airport security?) but once I am there, it’s all about hitting the ground running. I like to intersperse moments of relaxation into my travel but it is by no means my main goal. Rather, I like to fill my days seeing as much as possible and participating in as many local activities as I can before falling into bed from exhaustion each night. I get pretty good sleep at home so when I vacation, my focus is on being an active participant. Of course, if some of the activities are of a restful nature that’s fine too.

I've been fortunate to have taken a few great trips this year and as the time when I will start planning my next adventure abroad nears and as I feel the claws of wanderlust slowly sinking in, I’ve taken some time to reflect on some of the trips that contributed to making this year such a great one. I wrote extensively about my trip to Spain this past Spring and since that visit marked my first time in Europe, it's understandable that I would bask in remembrance. But I've been remiss in sharing some of the fun that I had right here on the home front. Hence, this series of posts with highlight my visits to Chicago, New Orleans, and Las Vegas.

Chicago

I kicked off New Years with an extended weekend in Chicago (by way of Milwaukee) and from the moment I arrived, sleep became a valuable commodity that I could ill afford. Just the way I like it! After my delayed flight finally touched down on a snow-covered runway, I had just enough time to drop my luggage off and eat a quick dinner before G. was shuffling us out the door to meet up with V. and hit the town. This set the tone for the long weekend in Chicago. Our days started late in the mornings at which point we'd eat a leisurely breakfast, head out for sightseeing and shopping, and return home early in the evening for a home-cooked meal, courtesy of G. We'd then relax for a bit before preparing ourselves for nights that ended in the wee hours of the morning, where we’d go from club to club and party to party. We didn’t waste time thinking about too much beyond the moment. So, it's only fitting that our last night in Chicago would have us returning home from a reggae club after 3am and waking up an hour or so later so that I could make my 6am flight home. I was very much awake and on the edge of my seat, watching the minutes fly by but I don’t think I would have changed much (the misadventures contribute to the fun but the cold was another thing altogether). That last night in Chicago was arguably our best one and when I finally made it home a few hours later, I had plenty of time to defrost and catch up on the sleep I'd missed over the past few days.

A fun time was had in Chicago but if I didn’t mention just how cold it was there, I’d be painting too rosy a picture. It was freezing cold! There were moments when I questioned why I was standing outside in the cold, waiting in line to get into a club. G. and I would huddle up to the other club-goers, trying to share our collective body warmth. Granted, unlike a lot of the other people, we at least were wearing our coats and scarves. But in bone-penetrating cold like that, nothing short of staying indoors is ever quite enough. I have never been a fan of extreme temps and although hard to avoid given where I live, I try to stay out of it as much as possible. So Chicago for New Years would seem like an odd choice. I can only chalk it up to invitation offer and acceptance, available vacation time, and impulse. I’ve found that my best trips were the ones that I either planned at the last minute or booked almost immediately. No chance for over-thinking to ruin well-laid plans!

Check back over the next few days for highlights (with pics) of my visits to New Orleans and Las Vegas.

Travel Gripes: Italy is Calling…Still!

Today I listened in as two men talked about their respective vacations to Italy. Their enjoyment could not be mistaken. I also had a brief conversation about my desire to visit Italy with someone who’s been there at least eight times. The advice that I received from my conversation partner wasn’t just to go but to hurry up and go. And, when I arrived at the library a short while later the When in Rome DVD was one of the first movies that I noticed. These things all happened in quick succession and I’m starting to think that these are signs that it’s time for me to make my dream of visiting Italy a reality.

I have been yearning to visit Italy for several years. I came close last year. I planned every details and presented them to the two friends who would be traveling with me for their approval. But when it was time for us to actually purchase tickets for our flights they both backed out (I was not happy about that: Grounded Traveler). And somehow, I found myself in California instead. Italy vs. California- there’s really no comparison and while I had a relaxing trip, I might have enjoyed my visit to California more if I hadn’t been thinking that I should be in Italy the entire time that I was there. But I managed to suck it up and decided that this year would be the year. I would make it to Italy even if I had to travel with a bunch of strangers. So, again, I researched the various tour groups, read the reviews, scoped out the selected hotels and as much as I tried to find a package that was in my budget and that suited me and the experience that I sought, I couldn’t submit myself to pay for a tour that did not meet the meager standards that I had set for it. Too much time on a bus, visits to tourist traps and stays in crappy hotels are not my idea of a good time. I might have been a bit more melancholy about the fact that I still have yet to make it to Italy if the opportunity to visit Spain hadn’t come up and if I hadn’t had such a great time there . But Italy is never far from my mind and at times I ponder what’s really holding me back from just picking up and going once and for all.

I would have said that having travel partners is a big part of why I haven’t ventured too far away but since Spain, I’m beginning to realize that solo travel is not as scary as I had imagined. I still believe that a good travel partner adds to the experience but it is no longer a requirement for me. And what about the time? And cost? Those are very real barrier, time more so than cost. While I am willing to sacrifice in other areas (clothes, entertainment etc.) when I am presented with travel opportunities, there is just not enough time (time off from work to be more specific) to see all the places that I want to see. I'm evidence of societal conditioning at work because I do believe that security is something to strive for so leaving my job to travel the world for extended periods of time is not something that I am considering at this stage. Unfortunately, my travel plans will have to fall within the confines of my PTO days. But I like to think that I use my time well. I don’t have enough vacation days to see Italy the way that I want to this year so it is once again back at the top of my list for next year. I believe that things work out the way that they are supposed to and with my upcoming milestone next year, I’ll have even more incentive to ensure that I finally make it to Italy!

Travel Gripes: Snapshots of Madrid, Toledo & La Alberca, Spain

What can I tell you about Spain? For someone who is as private as I am, it is sometimes difficult to determine how much to share. Would I be divulging too much if I mentioned names and showed faces? On the other hand, would I be doing it a disservice if I glossed over some of the details that made my visit so special, only sharing tidbits that my filter deems okay? I think the answer lies somewhere in the middle and it was with this slight reservation and this openness to experiencing something new that I jetted off to Spain. By no means did I see all that Spain has to offer. A fraction of a fraction maybe— enough to whet my appetite and leave me wanting more. But not enough to quench my thirst. I’m fully aware that there is a great big world out there and that I have a serious case of wanderlust to see as much of it as possible. That’s not exactly accurate. I don’t just want to see it, I want to experience it to the fullest extent. I want to breathe in culture and hold it inside me. I do not want to play tourist! One of the reasons why I enjoyed my time in Spain so much is because I got to eschew being a tourist for most of the time that I was there and just experience it. Through the program that I was apart of and through the people I met, I came away with more than a superficial view of a great country.

La Alberca










Though the time was short and although opportunities to travel through Spain were not plentiful (because of my work schedule), I saw just enough of Spain to know that I want more! First, La Alberca is not a place that I would have chosen to spend an entire week of my time, had I planned this trip completely on my own. The best way that I can describe it is as a well-preserved medieval village. From the villa where I was staying, the town center is a leisurely 20-minutes walk. I have always been a little geographically-challenged but even so, it’s almost impossible to get lost in La Alberca. It’s that small! I will say though, if you’re not careful when taking the back route through the dirt and the bushes, you could find yourself lost in the woods. And when taking the main road, being vigilant of oncoming traffic is a must. I didn’t see too many guardrails in La Alberca but I guess that goes along with preserving the town in its historical state. Although I’ve sworn that I could never live in a small town again, I did not mind being a 4-hours drive away from the closest major city. The mountain views, stretches of green, soft breezes, I was feeling it all. I felt at peace in La Alberca. And I had a great time connecting with wonderful people. So I enjoyed it.

Toledo










One of the perks of making new friends in La Alberca, is that I had a wonderful tour guide in M.I. when I made a day trip out to visit her hometown. Once the capital of Spain, Toledo (Toh-lay-doh, not to be confused with Toledo, Ohio) is another well-preserved town but if I didn’t have M.I. to show me around, I would have gotten lost a few times. Every turn produced streets that were narrower than the ones before and from what M.I. said, there’s one particular street where you could stretch out both arms and touch the other side. I don’t think I saw that street but if I did, I wouldn’t remember. After a while, the narrow streets started to blend together in my tired mind and I could not have gotten back to my starting point to save my life. But I really enjoyed learning about Toledo’s colorful history, seeing the chains that are all that’s left of those persecuted during the Spanish Inquisition, and meandering into a few of the numerous once-churches/mosques/synagogues that are now museums and bars. And the views- standing at a point where you could see the beautifully crafted buildings, some of which seems to have been built on top of each other. In a word, spectacular! But I was yearning to get back to Madrid…

Madrid










The word that immediately comes to mind when I think of Madrid is energy. It pulsed everywhere- in the building walls, on the beautifully cobbled streets, and in the air. On many occasions, it simply took my stepping outdoors into the beautiful weather for me to truly feel awake and energized. I love that feeling. I had become embroiled in the Spanish culture during my visits to La Alberca and Toledo and although I was only able to spend a few days in Madrid, there was much that I wanted to see and do. Tourist-y things. Unfortunately, I was thwarted at many turns. A visit to Prado Museum was on my must-see list but because of the way the schedule worked out I had to settle for the Reina Sofia instead. There, I saw some really weird art and was forced to contemplate this idea of what art really is. What are the criteria? Who set them? I’m not sure if I would refer to a series of tubes meant to depict the circulation system or an empty room with polka dots pasted to the wall as art. But there they were in the Reina Sofia nonetheless. The Palacio Real (Royal Palace) was another place that I anticipated seeing but upon arriving there on the scheduled day, I saw that it was closed for “official ceremonies.” I did not get to tour the royal rooms or sit on any of the thrones but I did console myself with a walkthrough of the courtyards.

Visits to Parque del Retiro, El Rastro for bargain shopping, and a Thai restaurant (Bangkok Thai) with an ideal view for people-watching were activities on my list that I did manage to complete, but only just (I did not spend nearly enough time just soaking up the sun because with so much to do in so little time I was always on the go). There was a lot of landscape to cover in a short time so I was only able to view small areas of the park on two different occasions. Similarly, El Rastro spread so far down the street that in my effort to visit as many booths as possible I only had time to take a cursory look at the goods before I had to catch the bus to Toledo. Nonetheless, I did not leave empty handy and I was glad that I got to experience it at all.

By far, some of the best parts of my time in Madrid were the evenings that I spent socializing and just being with some of the people I met in La Alberca. It was with them that I enjoyed an elegant dinner at Ginger and a more casual but tastier meal (including specially prepared ham) at Corea Restaurant, saw a bad movie (Time Travelers Wife) with Spanish subtitles, had wine and croquettes at the San Miguel Market, and visited a smoky disco (Torero). I was ambivalent about this last activity because although I danced, drank, and had an overall good time in good company, I wasn’t too pleased when I caught the distinct scent of the smoke that clung to my clothes and to my hair when we finally decided to leave in the wee hours of the morning (Spain has yet to ban smoking indoors so be prepared to leave any place smelling like a cigarette.) Still, I wouldn’t trade any of these experiences and I look forward to experiencing even more when I return in the near future.














Takeaways:

• A little Spanish goes a long! The owner of the hostel where I stayed did not speak any English and there were a couple occasions where our limited knowledge of each other’s languages led to miscommunication. Thankfully I was able to grasp on to words that I recognized and make sense of what I was hearing before I was kicked out of my room a day earlier than anticipated.
• Experience cannot be rushed! When traveling, don’t over-plan. Leave plenty of time to just be.

Volcanic Disruptions

There is a saying that when we make plans, God is somewhere laughing at us. This is proven true every time there is a natural disaster, and most recently with the eruption of the Eyjafjalljoekull volcano in Iceland. In the past, I’ve always been slightly removed from these disasters, from the earthquakes in Haiti, China, Chile, tsunami in Thailand, mudslide in Uganda, various hurricanes in New Orleans and throughout the Caribbean, among other deadly natural disasters. But the volcanic ash that is spreading across Europe may just put a major crimp in my travel plans. I really can’t, in good conscience, gripe about this though or about any issue where safety is the main concern.

After spending copious numbers of hours planning my next adventure, booking a flight, finding a hotel, planning activities, and packing, I now have to face the fact that I may (just maybe) have to settle for a stay-cation as time continues to creep closer with little change in the situation. I’ve been keeping a close eye on the updates of airports closing and re-opening across Europe and chances are good that I may get to my destination, but slightly later than I need to be there (I always knew my habit of cutting things close would one day come back to bite me). But a change to vacation plans isn’t the worst that can happen right? There are thousands of people who are stuck in foreign countries where they don’t speak the language, are low on funds having come to the end of their vacations, are lacking the medicine they need to survive, or those who spent days traveling by cars, trains, ferry— any way they could— just so they could make it home. There are cash-poor nations whose very survival depends on the goods they are able to export to Europe and small farmers who have to watch helpless as their livelihood go to waste. Although, I do think it’s right that the European transport ministers are erring on the side of caution, despite the frustrations that it incites in many. Again, better safe than sorry!

Grounded Traveler

I’m the worst sort of traveler. I fantasize and make plans for vacations that I hardly ever take. It’s not that I’m unwilling to leave my home or even that I don’t have the means to do so. I am and I do. It’s more that I like company when I travel. If I don’t have a friend accompanying me or one awaiting me on the other end, then the idea loses appeal. Suddenly, the fantastic trip that I had imagined is clouded with images of me holed up in my hotel room (only coming out in the daytime to take in the sights) due to my fear of being accosted on foreign soil. So much for soaking up the culture! But a woman traveling alone can’t be too careful right?

I would like to think of myself as an adventurer but if I’m being honest, I’m really not. And forget spontaneous (I believe in having a plan). Paranoid is a much more apt description. If there is anything that could go wrong, I imagine that it will happen to me. So, instead of being the type of traveler who jets off to three or four countries each year, I find myself-more often than not-grounded. Like now! I’ve been talking about going to Italy for awhile but now that I know I would have to make the trip alone, I find myself reconsidering. Ok, not just considering. The trip is definitely off as far as the immediate future is concerned. Still, Italy is at the top of my list of places to visit and even though I won’t be seeing it in the next couple months, I am hoping to get there within the next year. Hopefully.

Who wouldn't take this deal?

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$80,000 not to go to work for a year? I'm there. Granted, as an associate at a big law firm this woman stands to make over $160,000 more if she were actually working but consider the alternative in this nasty economy: she could lose her job completely (they just want her not to work for a year). Throw in the traveling and its truly a sweet deal.