Category: world

  • easter

    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

    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

  • Ocean water

  • Some sounds of New York…

    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…

    memories apart…

    IMG_4606

    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…

    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…

    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?

    IMG_5034

  • Travelers…

    Travelers…

    “Tourists don’t know where they’ve been…Travelers don’t know where they’re going.”

    ~Paul Theroux, The Happy Isles of Oceania

  • to travel well…

    to travel well…

    Gorde, Provence

    It is better to travel well than to arrive.
    ~Buddha

    This time around, my traveling took on a new pattern.  Instead of making a long list of ‘must-see’ places, I carried some guidebooks and maps around (on my iPad–so convenient), and let serendipity guide much of my wanderings.  The second and third days in Provence I had no reservations and no firm plan except that I had a vague notion of wanting to see St. Remy-de-Provence because of being a Remy myself.  And while that town was utterly charming, it was more crowded and less fun than the other parts of Provence that I visited.  Some things I learned from this experience:

    -local Visitor’s Bureaus are invaluable resources for finding lodging at the last minute

    -much of Provence is not in guidebooks and can’t be found through a Google search

    -the locals were eager to make suggestions for excellent eating, and they were more than willing to go out of their way to make sure that we didn’t get lost in our search for food and lodging

    -though at times the roundabouts were confusing, most every road was well signposted for finding one’s way

    -when you get up one morning with the intention of ‘driving to the next village’ for coffee and you just start driving in whatever random direction seems interesting, it might be a very long time before you find coffee.  But when you do, it will be at the perfect little family-run cafe with pain chocolate and a hot dark brew.

    More than anything, I learned to release my need to know everything ahead of time.  I let myself just be where I was, even if that included being a wee bit hungry when a restaurant wasn’t just around the corner.  I not only found beautiful medieval towns, waterways, rock formations, and tasty olives-wine-lavender-cheese, but I also found huge comfort in learning to do things a new way, and to even enjoyed it more than how I’ve traveled in the past.

    I used to be far more afraid of an uncertain future.  But I’m not (so much) now…

  • burning

    burning

    Isn’t it enough to see that a garden is beautiful without having to believe that there are fairies at the bottom of it too?
    ~Douglas Adams

    IMG_5010Over and over again during my travels I found myself drawn into churches (this behavior undoubtedly abetted by the fact that France and Belgium are chock-full of churches).  I love the cool quiet spaces of sanctuaries–for meditation and for observation.

    While at one famous church in Paris, I lit a candle for a friend and said a prayer for her.  Paying 2 euros for the candle before lighting and setting it on the stand felt a bit…cheap to me.  I didn’t want to think about money, only about my friend.  I suppose that’s why I tend to feel so conflicted about religion–somehow the practicalities of the organizations (money, structure, authority) tend to bog down what’s most beautiful about the devotion of the adherents.  Yet, as frustrated as I am with religion, I give homage to the beautiful spaces that are the remnants of such faith–the church structures that delight and lift my thoughts a bit higher.

  • Roll through my chant…

    Roll through my chant…

    Thee in thy panoply, thy measured dual throbbing, and thy beat convulsive;
    Thy black cylindric body, golden brass, and silvery steel;
    Thy ponderous side-bars, parallel and connecting rods, gyrating, shuttling at thy sides;
    Thy metrical, now swelling pant and roar—now tapering in the distance;
    Thy great protruding head-light, fix’d in front;
    Thy long, pale, floating vapor-pennants, tinged with delicate purple;
    The dense and murky clouds out-belching from thy smoke-stack;
    Thy knitted frame—thy springs and valves—the tremulous twinkle of thy wheels;
    Thy train of cars behind, obedient, merrily-following,
    Through gale or calm, now swift, now slack, yet steadily careering:
    Type of the modern! emblem of motion and power! pulse of the continent!
    For once, come serve the Muse, and merge in verse, even as here I see thee[…]

    Fierce-throated beauty!
    Roll through my chant, with all thy lawless music! thy swinging lamps at night;
    Thy piercing, madly-whistled laughter! thy echoes, rumbling like an earthquake, rousing
    all!
    ~from Walt Whitman, “To a Locomotive in Winter”

    IMG_4952

    One of the best parts of my trip was that I traveled (and traveled and traveled) by train. I took high-speed trains from Brussels to Avignon, from there to Paris, and also to London and back. I’ve said before that I try to make sure that every single journey I take includes a ride on a train, and this one certainly didn’t disappoint! Some of my train trips even included spontaneous cheese-bread-waffle picnics like this one:


    (And because I fear that I’ve spoken far too much about my wine-bibbing on this trip already on my blog, the beverage in my glass will remain unmentioned…but were I to mention it, I might note just how strange it felt to be allowed to drink such stuff on public transport…)

    And…as a further indulgence for my train fetish, I also had the opportunity to visit and photograph a few antique cars near an old railway-station-turned-coffeehouse. I’m rather embarrassed to admit just how much I enjoyed that part of my adventure…

  • At night…

    At night…

    One of my favorite aspects of being in Provence was walking around the old cities late at night, when lanterns threw such charming shadows on the old buildings.  Typically, I was more than a little warmed by local wine as we wandered up and around cobblestone streets, which certainly added a bit of magic to the experience.

    This photo is a bit blurrier than most I snapped on those long walks, but I love how it captures the washed-out romance of the night.  Now, if only I could add the loud hum of cicadas and the smell of water splashing in corner fountains and the sight of a few kitties peering down at me from red tile rooftops and an orange crescent moon growing larger every night that I was there.  And maybe you can imagine me taking it all in, wide-eyed and smiling, hardly believing that I wasn’t simply dreaming such beauty.