I did not expect to end up with a sunburn in Sweden. It has been so incredibly sunny and warm here, and I have seen so little sun in Seattle lately, I have become a sun-whore. My uncle has a nice back deck for soaking up sun. It is also a great help with recovering from jetlag. After two nights I am pretty much adjusted to the timezone and feel somewhat human again. The highlights hasve been: http://www.wanas.se/ and my uncle's homemade chocolate pot de creme. I feel very peaceful and relaxed here, but tomorrow morning I am off to Berlin. Now, I need to get back to my sunning.
]]>I have never before been this prepared for a trip this many hours before my plane was to take off. My two (heavy but small) bags are zipped up. My check-in confirmation is tucked into my passport in an outer pocket. The house is clean and the garbage is out. Every dish is washed! I have my flight xanax in an easily accessible pocket. I am drinking tons of water to stay hydrated. I have been stretching and will do another half hour or so of that before my ride gets here. I have my gels and liquids packaged legally. I picked up extra prescriptions.
I am so ready for this vacation. I've been experiencing a fair amount of turmoil this year so far, and the idea of 3 weeks just doing whatever the hell I want is pretty appealing. I am not going to be overly-touristy, but I am going to focus on taking care of myself (spa day in berlin), writing, reading, and enjoying good food. There's plenty of art and architecture to enrich my time, but I'm not going to force any agendas on myself. I will get up each morning and if I don't have a plane or train to catch I will spend the day exactly however I want to.
ech:
Every time I plan a major trip I end up having a few twinges of financial guilt. I could put this money into my languishing retirement fund. I could make a down-payment on a car. I could go to school and learn something useful. I could invest in art. I could donate to charity. I could pay down my debt. I could buy something useful and tangible... But instead I take my excess cash (if you can call it that) and pay for hotel rooms, meals in restaurants, airfare, train fare, museum admission, and other things that cease to exist as soon as the experience is over. My un-frivolous side cringes just thinking about it. Luckily that aspect of my personality is overshadowed by side that believes life is about experiences, and not about accumulating money or things or equity.
Traveling to foreign countries forces me to use my brain in unusual ways. When constantly facing an unfamiliar language, that interpretive part of my brain kicks into high gear - trying to make sense of the landscape. Not to mention having to read and interpret maps in order to figure out where I am. I believe that travel is excellent exercise for the brain, and it also leads to a sense of humility from sounding like a two-year-old when trying to communicate with the locals.
Being in an unfamiliar environment puts "home" in perspective. There's no better way to take a step back and look at what is really important in my life than by leaving it for a while and just being me outside of my familiar space and routine. When I return from a long trip I feel re-invigorated by the things that I enjoy doing. It gets me out of the routine.
It's a classroom out there. I learn more about art and language and history and architecture and other cultures by experiencing them first-hand than I ever could in a classroom.
Food. I like food. And going abroad opens all kinds of doors to cuisine.
Down time. When I take a day off and stay home it really feels like a day of playing catch-up. When I travel I am forced to exist in a world where I cannot Get Things Done.
Yes, it can be pricey, but in the end I think it's worth every penny.
The loathelies:
I suppose you might call it Spring Cleaning, but I call it long overdue. One of the great features of my apartment (apart from high ceilings, hardwood floors, loads of windows, a full-size bathtub, and an excellent location) is the ginormous walk-in closet. It's an odd L-shape, cupped as it is around my smaller bathroom. The main body of the closet extends back about 8 feet, with 10' ceilings, and then there's a little cubby about 2' square off to the right at the front.
Th primary closet-rod is about halfway back, with another behind it about 7' off the ground. What this makes is a generous space to throw shit, out of sight and out of mind, behind the hanging clothes in the inaccessible part of the closet. For three+ years I've been throwing empty boxes and any odd or end I wanted to keep but never see. It had gotten to the point that the frontline closet detritus (shoes, bags, cleaning supplies) was beginning to creep forward and closing the door had become a bit of a challenge. I bought a thingy at Ikea to store towels and linens and I had no choice but to make space for it... so into the depths of the closet I delved.
I knew I had a lot of memorabilia back there, including about 2 reams of letters from my friends in high school, but I had forgotten that I had also stored all of the bits and pieces of my childhood saved by my grandma as well. One large box packed full of folders containing the likes of 4th grade essays. I openly lack sentimentality, and I can't imagine what good she thought keeping every school report and drawing I made as a child would do anyone. I had already thrown out the many locks of my hair she saved from haircuts, and yet somehow I still have a chalk handprint on a napkin made by 2 yr old me.
I come from a family of collectors. The accumulation of nostalgia has surrounded me since birth, and perhaps it a form of self protection to lack sentimentality. At the same time, though, I keep stuff. Almost against my own will. I have a kitchen cupboard that is packed with empty yogurt containers that might come in handy someday. I accumulate books and shoes at an alarming rate. I admire those who can live simply, and I aspire to that state of un-clutter. Right now I still have some work to do. However much I get rid of... it's never quite enough.
Tell me, tell me: what must I absolutely be sure to do/see/eat/drink in BERLIN and PRAGUE? I will also have limited time in Copenhagen and London/ Brighton...oh and Southern Sweden. I know, a bit random, but there is a logic to all of this.
Also, do you know anyone who'd like to share a drink or a meal with a weary solo-traveler? Tell me. I leave on the 13th.
I loathe it:
Last year, I hiked the Lover's Lane Loop alone and ended up soaking wet, covered in mud, tired, cold, and injured. Half of the hike was essentially in rushing streams. This year the winter has been different - longer and colder - and half of the trail is still covered in feet of snow. The brush hasn't been cleared from the trail yet either, so it can essentially be classified as a pain in the ass. We got all of a quarter mile or so up the trail and decided to turn around. It must be nice in the summer when the trail is clear and dry.
Soaking in that hot water is relaxing in a way I can't describe. I fall asleep at 9:30 every night I'm there and have strange dreams. There's something beyond simply nice hot water going on there. I mean - I take hot baths at home regularly and never feel quite like that. I'm glad I've decided t make this an annual sojourn. I just wish I could have stayed longer. Now I have to start thinking about my trip to Europe in just over 2 weeks!