If someone would pay for my airfare, hotels, and daily spending budget, I would gladly write reviews of my accommodations and travel adventures for free. That’s right – I’ll let you know what I think for free! (Also, I’d want to be able to bring a companion on my trips – also for free.) I’m sure Condé Naste will be calling any minute.
Speaking of travel writers, I happened to receive an e-mail with this review of the maiden voyage of “Icon of the Seas” (the world’s largest cruise ship) as I was writing this post. It’s written by the novelist Gary Schteyngart, who didn’t exactly love the voyage (as you might imagine), but it’s a funny, in-depth look at the most anticipated cruise ship experience since The Titanic.
Royal Caribbean’s Icon of the Seas
I once went on a cruise (from Bayonne, NJ to Bermuda). Although I liked it better than Gary liked his, I could relate to many of his observations. Here was our ship (and one other) docked in Bermuda.
Time spent off the ship was my favorite part of my one & only cruise.
I was good at saying “no” to things for many years, especially volunteer roles in my church and in the schools. I had too much going on with the kids and work. I did my part for various fundraisers and events, but I wasn’t one to get roped into running the whole thing. In fact, a woman once told me she admired my ability to say “no.” (possibly a backhanded compliment)
Now that I’m retired (there, I said it) I’m ready to say “yes” to more things, especially if it’s something fun. Kudos to my husband, who is still working, but says “yes” to quite a few of my proposals. He doesn’t agree to everything I want to do together, but I’d estimate that he says “yes” 75% of the time. For example, we went and saw ALL TEN Best Picture nominees before the Oscar broadcast. And he’s been especially good about visiting museums with me. (He likes museums too, but it’s a bit more of a sacrifice for him to make the time to go.)
On Saturday, we went to a very cool exhibit at Boston’s Museum of Fine Arts about Hallyu (Korean Wave)—the surge of popular culture from South Korea that started with K-drama and cinema in the 90s and then spread across the globe with K-pop and its massive fandoms in the mid 2000s. K-beauty and fashion has also been a huge cultural export and Korean designers’ work was on display. After that, we went to a Korean restaurant to round out the K-culture experience.
A K-pop idol’s costume at the Museum of Fine Arts, Boston
Reconstruction of a set from “Parasite,” the 2019 film directed and co-written by Bong Joon-ho. It was the first non-English language film to ever win the Academy Award for Best Picture.
Sun makes all the difference, right? Cold and gray is so much worse than cold and sunny. I know one family that left Seattle (including a tenured academic position) after 10+ years, due to the infrequency of sunny days. I’ve never been to Seattle, but that does sound rough.
New England winters are LONG. It’s best to break it up with a trip south, if possible. For years, Orlando (Florida) was our top family destination for school vacation weeks. My sister-in-law lives there, so we’ve been many times. Don’t knock Orlando ‘til you’ve tried it. They’ve got something for everyone.
It wasn’t always hot when we went to Orlando in February (or even in April), but it was always sunny.
If I were describing myself to someone who doesn’t know me, but had to pick me up at the airport, I’d say: I’m a tall woman with a red (or whatever color) shirt or jacket.
I’m 5 ft 8.5 in, so I’m not WNBA tall, but I’m taller than most women and some men. I usually avoid wearing heels, wedges, or stacked shoes. I don’t like towering over people.
Two places I’ve visited where I did not feel particularly tall are Chicago and Helsinki (Finland). Are they taller in the Midwest and Scandinavia? Maybe.
Me in very cold Helsinki, January 1987
Frozen harbor in Helsinki, January 1987
Women were tall and fur-clad in Finland. It wasn’t unusual to see a woman in a fox stole with the face and paws still attached. These pelts were for sale on the street in Helsinki. I didn’t buy one.
If we’re talking about my country (the U.S), I’m going on an airplane. The days when I may have fantasized about doing a Jack Kerouac/Hunter S. Thompson/Bob Dylan/Route 66 Great American Road Trip are over. It always sounded cool and like something you should do at least once in your life, but I never did it. I once drove from Massachusetts to Florida with a boyfriend. We had no particular plan. It was spring break and we just wanted to get warm, so we headed south. I think we made it to Daytona Beach before heading back.
Driving all the way to California from Massachusetts would’ve been a great adventure in my twenties, but I won’t be adding it to my bucket list now. I’m too old for that shit. And a bus would be even worse.
Actually, my mother took a bus from Massachusetts to California with two of her friends (one from high school and one from college) in 1960, between her junior and senior year of college. This was before women could get birth control or hold a credit card in their own name. They got jobs in Los Angeles and stayed for the whole summer, then took the bus back. They just wanted to see the country and have an adventure. I’ve always been impressed that my grandmother allowed her to plan that trip and that she had the guts to go.
Los Angeles in 1959 (photo by Railroad Jack on Flickr)My mother in the 1950s
I suppose you could take a train across the United States, but nobody I know has done that, so perhaps it’s not that great of an experience.
Six years after my mother’s adventure, I was born. Two years after that, Peter, Paul and Mary wrote Leaving on a Jet Plane. I always loved that song.
I’d be miraculously transported to Rome, with no airports, passports or wait times involved. (Beam me up, Scotty)
I’d spend the morning shopping on the Via del Corso and then head over to Trastevere for the afternoon. I would replace the buttery-soft, knee-length black leather coat that I bought on my semester abroad (which was subsequently stolen in NYC) and also get some new black leather gloves and whatever the heck else I want (it’s a fantasy, right?)
I would have plenty of time to take breaks in outdoor cafés. The weather would be 70 degrees and sunny. My feet would not hurt. My husband would cheerily accompany into every single store and carry my purchases without complaint. The dollar/euro exchange rate would be in my favor.
My friend Andreada and me in NYC in 1988. This is the one and only picture of my Italian black leather coat. It was so soft. It got stolen that very night from my chair in a Manhattan bar.
Sometimes I feel guilty that I read mostly fiction books. Typically, I read a couple of memoir-type nonfiction books each year (i.e. Michelle Obama, Anne Lamott, Prince Harry – couldn’t resist!), but I don’t prioritize the big, seriousnonfiction bestsellers, like The Persuaders, which I know I should read.
Still, I learn a lot from novels by great writers. (I realize this is not an amazing revelation. Readers of fiction know this already.) Great novelists do so much in-depth research that you end up learning a lot of stuff, while engrossed in the lives of fictional characters.
Yesterday, I finished “Unsheltered” by Pulitzer Prize-winning author Barbara Kingsolver. As with all Kingsolver books, I learned new things about the natural world, but I also learned a few things about Cuba in this one. There’s an endearing character named Tig, a GenZ anti-capitalist who has returned to the US after a year in Cuba. She tells her mother about “the yellow guy” (El Amarillo) in Cuba, which is a government-organized hitchhiking facilitation system. (The facilitators wear yellow/beige uniforms.)
Who knew? I mean, it doesn’t put Cuba on my bucket list or anything, but it’s interesting that they’ve found a way to cut down on all the wasted seats—in all the gas-guzzling vehicles—that are heading to the exact same destinations. American soccer moms could use a yellow guy.
Even in ideal circumstances, air travel is “boring” at best. You arrive at the airport hours early to sit and wait to be herded onto a thin metal tube (uncomfortably close to scores of strangers—some with pets), only to wait even longer (as a strapped-in captive) to be launched into the sky for an undetermined length of time, during which you’ll definitely have to pee.
Throw in a snowstorm, a pandemic, turbulence, a baby, a maintenance delay, or God forbid – a connecting flight, and you’re really just asking for trouble. Heading to the airport soon. Wish me luck.
An animal’s tail poking through to my seat on a recent flight. De-icing the wings: a familiar sight to many New Englanders Boring can be beautiful
Budgeting is hard. In the old days, when we first bought a house and got a mortgage, there was no extra money at all. We already had one child. My husband got a second job delivering newspapers at the crack of dawn to make ends meet. When we moved again, we had two kids and the expenses were even higher, so I went back to work. In the old days, when we felt like we were low on money, the solution was always to work more.
Now that we’re empty nesters, I am able to budget for optional stuff like travel. Typically, I make a list of expenses on the notepad in my iPhone. I plan for the big stuff (airfare, hotel, car rental), book it (so I know what it’ll really cost), and then determine how much I feel comfortable spending on other stuff (dinners, excursions, etc). Now that I’m older, I’m prioritizing experiences over stuff.
For example, when we went to Paris, we had dinner IN the Eiffel Tower. It was very expensive, but it was amazing! It was such a special setting and the food was delicious. We sat next to some Germans and a young American couple from the Bronx who were clearly splurging too. We had a lot of fun chatting with them and it was surreal to be eating in the actual Eiffel Tower. I could’ve purchased a nice French designer bag for the same price, but this was so much better.
Now, when I watch the Paris Olympics this summer, I’ll be thinking of that night whenever they show the Eiffel Tower.
We got lucky. Our table was right next to the windows. And yes, of course we sprung for the €25 souvenir photo.
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