How I Travel, Let Me Count the Ways
|The Badlands (not Lyon)|
When I travel I want to feel like an explorer from a distant planet: someone who does not speak the alien language, cannot eat the food and doesn't understand the complexities of this new culture. So we're off to France this evening. If you've been keeping up with my travels you know that, in French at least, I can communicate my gluten intolerance and warn people about impending hedgehogs. That's pretty much the extent of my skills in French. Luckily, my partner's niece will be there, and she's considerably more acquainted with the alien tongue.
When I travel I do not like to plan itineraries. I'm perfectly happy to miss trains and get lost. Some preacher from some pulpit in the depths of my past said once, "If Jesus is in your heart, you are never lost." Well. I'll take it. I like Jesus. The world would be a much better place if we took WWJD a bit more seriously. We'd be nicer to each other, for sure. We'd definitely talk to more prostitutes and tax collectors. Happy birthday, Jesus.
|Goats are cute. End of story.|
I take pictures of the pavement, of curious angles, of the clear blue sky. I take pictures of bright colors and dull moments. I once took the picture of a man who'd just attacked me. And who says I'm not courageous(ly stupid)?
When I travel I try to walk down a new street every day (a sentiment that resonates in Dorothee Lang and Smitha Murthy's wonderful epistolary book Worlds Apart. If you haven't already ordered this book, you should). If your goal is to see this whole, miraculous world, why on earth would you keep walking down the same streets?
When I travel to beaches, I do not lie on them unless someone can bring me lemony beverages and guacamole. I walk on the beaches, up and down, down and up. And I take pictures. And I think. And I thank God for the adventure and this rare opportunity.
Ah yes. When I travel by plane I thank God for The Adventure of Life at take-off. I pray for the safety of the plane but acknowledge that Shit Happens, so if it's not in the cards for me to reach the ground in one piece, well, it's OK too. In fact, acknowledging the fact that things go wrong, that you're not the only person on this planet who experiences problems is a great lesson. It's actually liberating. So it turns out your hotel reservation got lost? Your rental car breaks down in the middle of nowhere? Your expensive digital camera disappears mysteriously on a bus from Quito to Banos? United Airlines destroys the handcarved wooden statue you just bought in Costa Rica? You forgot that you were an American, but you were flying to Sydney? Oops, and then Rio? Travelling is such an adventure.
And sometimes I turn the camera around and take a silly picture of myself . . . which makes me laugh. I can't think of anything sillier than my face.
|Christopher Allen has pinchable cheeks|
For Christmas this year, I'm giving away a signed copy of Conversations with S. Teri O'Type. But wait! Since I have only one copy to give away, I have to make it a bit difficult. Sorry. I will give a free copy to the person who finds the picture of my talented friend Lori Fischer holding a Starbucks cup. I love scavenger hunts. When you find the picture, be the first to leave a comment on the post containing her picture. Say "I found Lori!" and we'll get that copy of Conversations with S. Teri O'Type out to you.
I must be off,