Indie Travel - Family

Family shapes who we are, but sometimes the family we create plays a bigger role in our lives than the one we were born into. Tell a story about how either of your “families” have impacted your life and your travels.  


Wanderlust has been part of my psyche for as long as I can remember, but I've often felt stymied by the impossible-ness of long term travel. Until the realization hit me: possible-ness is just a matter of choices. 


Do others guilt me into choices I don't really want to make? Does fear or lack of finances stifle desire? Am I so irreplaceable in my own life, I dare not leave it? 


Perhaps it was all those things that kept me from traveling sooner than this. But that's all over now. And family had a lot to do with both sides of the issue. 


Raising my son meant that I had to have a steady income, a job. And a job meant only so much vacation. We went lots of places, took 7 weeks off when he was 14 to travel to eleven national parks on a summer car-camping trip. It was wonderful. We often went around the state for short trips. I tried to give him the travel opportunities I didn't have as a kid in a family with three children and limited finances. 


My mother and step-father traveled a lot. Because they enjoyed it, and it gave them time away from the kids.  I would have liked to go to Denver and San Francisco too, and felt fairly put-upon by their trips, but in retrospect don't blame them a bit. They didn't let guilt prevent them from having a great time together.


My grandmother used to take me places all the time on trains, by car, and once in a while, by airplane. I lucked out being the only grandchild for five years. She was wonderful, always so kind and considerate. When I was four, a child on an airplane was fairly unusual. The Stewardess asked me if I'd like to be a Stewardess when I grow up. Having just sat on the Pilot's lap and touched many of the instruments, I responded emphatically that I'd rather be the pilot. It was 1958. She politely informed me that girls can't be pilots. I wasn't shocked. We couldn't be doctors or cowboys either.....

My mother and sister.

My mother's sister broke the stay-home mold by making the decision to travel full time. Against her sons' "better judgement" she and hubby sold everything, put stuff in storage, and bought a motor home. Two fifth-wheels later, they are still on the road after twenty years and now, approaching 80, they are thinking of settling down.

People tried to discourage me from going to Mexico alone, then again from living there. But starting this January, it will be home for six months. After that, Europe, then Australia, and Asia. At some point further down the road, circling South America is the plan, living longish periods of time in various places, and then after the wanderlust has abated, I'll come home to live in Los Alamos, NM again. Or maybe not. There is no crystal ball. I may run out of money long before that, or may find a way to make a passable living while living at large. Along the way, there will be people who will quickly become friends and some may join the ranks of chosen family. Because no place is wonderful without great people in it. 
  

Washington DC

Ok. I know. I went to Washington DC over 2 weeks ago and haven't written a word about it. So here's what I did:

The Holocaust Museum
The Smithsonian Castle
The Lincoln Memorial
The WWII Memorial
The Portrait Gallery
The National Art Museum
The Air and Space Museum
A lovely Thai restaurant
A lovely Sushi restaurant
A movie: The Tower Heist
A double decker bus tour of everything, just driving past....
Spent many hours on buses and subways
Watched a man sleeping on a bench in the National Mall.
Had an ice cream cone, pumpkin flavor, yummy.
Witnessed a 4 car accident.



On Monday I got a late start, didn't know the bus and rail schedules and ended up in DC after lunch. So I bought a ticket for the double decker bus and we headed out, over the river, south to Arlington. On the way, the bus was stopped at a light and WHAM WHAM WHAM, three cars were hit by a speeding driver whose own car spun twice and ended up on the median. One of the cars was pushed into the bus two lanes over and mashed its front end. I'm not clear what happened as I was just sitting on the upper level enjoying a few seconds of no wind lashing my face, taking photos of an imposing sculpture on top of a low building. In a few minutes a police car showed up, then fire engines, then an ambulance. After a long wait we were allowed to back up and ease through the car mess all over the road and go on with our tour.

It was a canned audio tour, and not that informative. The afternoon was waning. It stopped in front of the Holocaust museum so I got off and went there. It's huge, new, somber and enlightening. And it answered for me, finally, the long burning question of how did a nation of perfectly normal people get so warped, mentally and emotionally, that the Holocaust could actually happen. The museum has a certain flow, and following the flow, you are taken to a time before WWI, then through Germany's defeat in that war, to its struggle during the world wide depression, to Hitler's slow rise to power and then instantaneous dissolution of democracy in favor of a dictatorship. By then, so many rights of the common people had been eroded, and the police/military were so powerful the people could do very little to rise up against that machine. And there were many who ardently supported it, it fit into their own ideas of being a world power. The rest of the world refused to accept Jews wanting out of Germany, so Hitler solved his "problem" in the most hideous fashion. When the story is presented in that plodding and gradual way, you can see how it could happen. I think my answers were found.

The museum closed as I was only about half way through. I know the rest of the story, the part I needed to hear was the beginning, the reasons. And it was sobering because I can see echos of it in our own country. Now that Habeas Corpus was tossed out, we no longer have the right to know why we are being arrested. Hmmm. And the Magna Carta has been more or less done away so you cannot protect your home from the police who want to enter for reason but without a warrant, your property can be taken at any time by the government for any reason it wishes as the "public good"  in condemnation proceedings no longer needs to be proven, and on and on. Are we marching toward a time when, for the "good of the country" martial law will be enacted? And how would we fight that? We have the most powerful army in the world. I'm a pretty middle of the road person when it comes to politics, and I'm glad our founding fathers made gun ownership a right. However, if the majority of gun owners back a dictatorship, we'll be in worse trouble than the Germans ever were. At this point in time, I don't see many gun owners out there protesting the gradual erosion of our rights, with the exception of those pertaining to gun ownership.

Spirit of St. Louis, SpaceShipOne, and Yeager's plane.

Over the next two days I went to the Air and Space Museum and saw all the Firsts. The first machine to fly made by the Wright Brothers. (Funny how NC gets ALL the credit when the Wright Brothers lived, experimented, and worked in Ohio.) Chuck Yeager's plane, the first to break the sound barrier; Charles Lindburgh's Spirit of St. Louis - the first to fly over the Atlantic; and the first plane, SpaceShipOne, to fly into space and return, entirely under its own power; were all displayed together in a huge hall. The first human powered machine to actually fly, the Gossamer Condor, occupies a wall in the same hall. Wonderful displays of other firsts, like the first manned space capsule, the moon lander, etc, each had it's special spot. That museum alone took up the better part of a day. With aching feet I went to a movie and got an ice cream cone for dinner. I know, shoulda coulda had something more nutritious, but what are vacations for anyway?

Lincoln Memorial Mess

Really enjoyed the Lincoln Memorial. They're tearing up the reflecting pond and replacing all the pipes and the concrete 'floor' and it's quite a mess. I spoke briefly with one of the workers in Spanish. He said it would be finished in 6 months, in time for the influx of tourists next summer. Inside the building, a docent was giving a little talk. There were hundreds of school children in large groups posing on the steps but inside it was relatively quiet. He told about the architect, the contest that was held to pick a designer, a sculptor, etc. Very interesting stuff. The monument opened in 1922, almost 70 years after Lincoln's death. Around the exterior are the names of all US states, though a few had to be added after the fact.

I had wanted to save the Vietnam Memorial till last. But alas I didn't get there. There is so much more to see. I will need to find a way to rent a place near DC at some point in retirement, and go every few days in order to see it all, and I would want to see it all. The portrait gallery alone would take at least three full days to do it justice. And I never got over to the Natural History Museum or any of the other 'biggies'. It was too mind boggling. So I went on down the road, to Washington's house,  Mount Vernon, on the Potomac.

That tour led me down a path I never expected to travel. Virginia is the home state of 9 presidents. So I went on a tour of Colonial and Presidential homes, and other historic parks. More to follow.....

WWII Memorial

A family's private statement at the WWII memorial.

Restaurant inside Union Station.

Indie Travel - Giving Thanks

Seeing what others have – and don’t have – around the world often helps us appreciate our own good fortune. What are you thankful for this year ?

I'm sitting in the house where I came 7 weeks ago to house sit, not knowing anyone. Now I am house sitting again, more as a guest than live-in help. The neighbors have all become friends. One took me to dinner at an old farmhouse restaurant that routinely feeds hundreds on Thanksgiving day. Tomorrow I'll cook a turkey and the other neighbors will come over for dinner in the evening. The owner is off enjoying herself at the beach.

I'm grateful for the generosity of people I meet while traveling. The hospitality is radical.

In this town seven weeks ago, the owner of a car repair shop fixed my sliding door on the van and didn't charge me a dime. Since then, the mechanism that holds the back of that same door came lose and fell inside. I could have tried having it fixed somewhere along the way, but chose to wait until I got back to Siler City. Yesterday, the same guy took the door apart from the inside, fixed the latching mechanism, and only charged me $30 for at least an hour's work.

I'm grateful for people who do a good job, don't overcharge, and are generous with their creativity and problem solving skills.

A little sample of this beautiful life. 

All through Pennsylvania and Virginia, I saw very little grinding poverty, but here in North Carolina, there are many who live in trailer houses, or very run down homes with tarps and tires on the roofs. Old beater cars grace the roadways, belching blue-black smoke. Mangy stray cats prowl around in the woods. That said, I am staying in a lovely home with a luscious yard and two sweet kitties who love being petted. The contrast between have and not-have-as-much is more vivid and apparent here.

I'm grateful for modern conveniences like indoor plumbing and forced air heat, for telephones, computers, high speed internet, electricity, and for animals who give more love than they ask for.

Mostly I'm grateful to be alive experiencing this world, whatever it tosses in my direction. For I lucked out.......by being born in this time, this country, with a strong body blessed with good working parts, to middle class parents who saw to it that I received a decent education, and on and on.  I won the lottery of birth. I won it!! And I'm out spending it all, cause I can't take any of it with me.

Indie Travel - Love Affair

When we travel, our senses are heightened. We feel more alive and we’re more free to do things we might not at home. We can be who we want. There’s an air of urgency to everything we do – we know our time here, in this place, and with these people, is limited. If we want to do something, we have to do it now. It’s no wonder then that many travelers have relationships on the road. Tell us about a “special someone” you met while traveling. 


A kiss 'n' tell? No way! 


Of course one would have to kiss in order to tell, and it's been a while since I've traveled anywhere where someone was interested, or in whom I was interested.......Does that say something about the life of an 'older' person? I'm not even 60 yet!


So  here's an almost kiss 'n' tell story. 


When I was in San Miguel de Allende in February of 2010, I met a fellow through mutual friends named Francisco. He was once an architect, built a lot of schools. Then he went to the US, illegally, lived in Houston for about 10 years where he ran a landscaping business. When things got sticky, he tried to get a green card, but was told to go home before the government came and confiscated everything and deported him. He sold off his equipment, and came back to Leon where his family lived. His son chose to stay in Houston and live with an American family to finish high school. Nobody was threatening to kick him out, so now he speaks perfect English and is a rock musician. Francisco wishes he would go to college, but for now he's living out his own dream. 


Francisco was charming and smart, nice looking, and very attentive. He found me attractive and made no bones about it. He brought me roses for Valentines day. He held my hand as we walked around the plaza and took me out for a meal a couple of times.


Francisco had a van and several of my women friends hired him to take us on a tour of Guanajuato and Dolores Hidalgo. It was a great trip. He also took a couple of us to a hot springs where we swam around in a cave. Francisco had ambitions to be a writer and worked often on his book. We had several things in common and though his English was a little better than my Spanish, we mostly conversed in Spanish. It's much more romantic.

Francisco at the silver
mine above Guanajuato.

He'd done such a good job driving that I recommended him to my landlady when she was desperate. Her friend ran the San Miguel Writer's Conference, and the arranged driver for the keynote speaker, Barbara Kingsolver, had wrecked his car. Francisco got the job of driving the famous author and her family. After the conference, she hired him to take them on a long trip through central Mexico and then to the airport in Mexico City. So, as my trip was drawing to a close, he was off having a wonderful time being a tour guide. He arrived back in San Miguel just in time to take me to the airport. We hugged goodby and I flew away. 


Soon all the ex-pat women in San Miguel wanted to be driven around by the same Francisco who had driven Barbara Kingsolver. In short order Francisco had enough work to support himself with no other jobs and he could work on his book. 


I saw him briefly again when I was in San Miguel in September 2010. He'd sold the van so he could open a shoe store, and he spent his days, between customers, writing. Now his book is done, he's gotten it published, and he's busy promoting it. I hear from him once in a while, but I don't expect anything in the future. I'll try to keep my jealousy in check, that he's finished his book, and I've not finished mine!! He will always be a good contact and ready ally. He's a genuinely good man. 

Indie Travel - Technology

Where would today’s travelers be without smartphones, GPS, iPods, iPads, or even the internet? Share one item of tech you can’t live without or tell us how technology has changed the way you travel.



Those following this blog will know I finally broke down and bought a GPS. I'm fine with finding my way around if I have a map, but I don't have a printer with me in the van, so I can't print out detailed maps of cities from MapQuest. Constantly consulting my laptop while driving is not a very safe driving habit. Maps from the Visitor Centers are for whole states, and while fairly detailed, do not give the depth of detail you need driving around in a town. I could buy an iPhone and have instant access to maps, the internet, people, etc, but I'm not quite there yet. Traveling for me is about the process of getting somewhere, rising to the challenge, not having all challenge wiped away by technology. 


However, the GPS has been both a boon and a bog to my sanity. Unless I have an exact address, I'm not likely to get someplace depending on the GPS. In fact, even with an exact address there have been several times the GPS could not find the location. Target in the northern part of Washington DC comes quickly to mind. The GPS could not find either of the cross streets, the transit station which was right next door, or the Target itself even though I'd called and gotten a physical address. What's up with that? Now I know why Brenda calls her GPS "Pita", for pain in the A***. 


As a westerner, I'm accustomed to having a large view of the world, big sky, generally some tallish landmark that can be seen from all over, like a mountain. But here in the east, everything is hidden by trees, and often the sky itself is covered with clouds, dim and difficult to tell south from north. And to make matters even worse, many towns were originally laid out starting with game trails that were easy to follow in the 1700s, the towns grew up on both sides of a trail. 


Towns like Siler City, NC, for instance appear to be laid out on a grid, but the grid is cock-eyed and is at a 45 degree angle to the main highway on the north side of town. To be even more difficult, it's a small town, no one has seen much of a need to put up street signs. Everybody knows where everything is, so why bother? 


So....my GPS is the one thing I'm finding it hard to live without at this moment. I just wish it were a bit smarter.

Indie Travel - In Transit

The word travel comes from a French word meaning “work” and sometimes, getting there is work. Between crowded buses, long airline delays, overnight trains and crazy rickshaw rides, transportation can be stressful, but it can also be a rewarding part of the tip. Tell us about a time when the journey became more important than the destination.




I am on a journey now, a tour of the east coast in the fall. That was the primary objective, to experience a hardwood forest in all it's autumn glory and take lots of pretty pictures. 


It's been a great experience: to wander down the Blue Ridge Parkway, watch snow fall on golden and red trees in Bethlehem, Pennsylvania, dig up potatoes while trees shed leaves by the millions so it sounded like a light rain falling. 


The photos have been fun to compose and a few have turned out exquisitely. 

Appomattox looming out of the fog.

The non-objective was to enjoy the trip and for the first time in my life just wander more or less aimlessly and see what I want to see, stay as long as I like. 


Most of us have experienced a father (or mother) who always had to be somewhere, and the drives to get there were long and arduous. One trip when my sisters were still in grade school was particularly memorable. (My father hated to stop. I think if we'd been boys he'd have asked us to pee out the window rather than make a pitstop.) My sister kept saying she felt sick. He told her to suck it up, hold it in, that she wasn't really sick, etc. Then in a spectacular feat of projectile vomiting, she blasted the back of his head. 


On those long trips I always wanted to explore the old dilapidated houses that appeared along the roadside, see if there was anything like a long-dead girl's dolly, or maybe some rusty old tool that no one even remembers what it was used for. Or stop at the attractions to 
see the live alligators, the pit full of rattlesnakes, or the Pony Express Station. 

Reconstructed Appomattox Courthouse

Now, I'm on my own trip, all by myself, and if I see something of interest, I pull over, take pictures, look around, explore, ask about it. Just this morning I drove by a National Park I didn't even know existed. It's where the Civil War ended. It was out in the middle of nowhere Virginia, down a weaving two lane road I happened to be on. The morning was foggy and wet. The little town of Appomattox Courthouse appeared as a ghost rising from the wet forest. It was closed. I went on to the next town, five miles down the road, had breakfast, came back, and paid my $3 to get in. A lovely place, chock full of history and artifacts, and I had it mostly to myself. 

The McLean home where the terms of surrender
were signed in the living room. 

I remember the author/historian Hampton Sides telling a personal story. His best friend in high school was the son of Shelby Foote, author of The Civil War: A Narrative. The boys were upstairs playing music too loudly and stomping around. Shelby banged on the door and in his meanest voice said "Cut it out boys!! I'm workin on Appomattox!". Hampton said he worked on Appomattox for almost four years.  After seeing the site, wandering the museums, talking to the lonely chilled rangers, I have no doubt that it took four years to write the section on the final days of the war. 






It was never my objective to see several of the plantation homes owned by Presidents, or  where the Civil War ended, it's just been a part of the journey, a few of the things I've run across while in transit.  

Fog, tree, grave.

View from inside the jail.

Union Army's portable printing machine for
printing the pardons for over 22,000 Confederate soldiers.

The Confederacy's final shots were
fired from this front yard. 

Indie Travel - Favorite City

What is your favorite (or least favorite) city and what do you love (or hate) about it?


I'm one of those travelers that is in love with the planet I guess. I can't think of a single city I don't like, and can think of many I'd go back to anytime.


For ease of getting around, Denver is probably the least favorite. You must have a car there or you miss most of the interesting things to do. Public transportation in cities in the west is mediocre to non-existent. Denver is getting better as people discover the joy of riding a bus to work but for the unfamiliar traveler, long waits are sometimes in order as buses aren't that frequent.


For driving, Albuquerque is hands down the most dangerous. In California, all the bad drivers are long dead. In Albuquerque, they're still on the road and out to get you. I've driven in Boston, LA, Washington DC, Seattle, Salt Lake City, Denver, Phoenix, you name it. Albuquerque is the worst. People routinely speed and run red lights. Lane integrity is an unknown concept. I lived there for 17 years. Best green chile in the world is available all over the place and in the fall, when the chiles are roasting in rolling cages over open flames and the smell fills your entire body, there's just nothing like it. It's my soul food and soul smell. 


For food, Salt Lake City is the most bland place I've ever eaten. But that said, it has one of the finest sushi restaurants in the country. I Love Sushi, downtown near the Temple. 


For poverty and lepers begging and touching your feet in supplication, almost any city in India will suffice. Yet, great street food, beautiful temples, colorful markets and the friendliness of most of the people are evident everywhere as well. 


Check back in a couple of years, after I'm finished with the round the world trip. I may have a favorite city by then. But I kinda doubt it.