Globejotting

Every aspiring travel writer's packing list must include a journal.  Whether you choose a notepad, a tablet, or a fancy bound book with a lovely cover doesn't matter as much as having a means to record your notes and impressions about your trip.  Even more than the photos, your journal brings back each day of the trip in vivid detail.  Photos capture a bit of what you see, but the journal can include all of your senses, as well as your thoughts and emotions during the trip.

In fact, when Rob and I travel, our senses are so overwhelmed by all of the new sights and experiences that we often have trouble remembering what we did two days ago, much less remembering the entire trip!  We keep a record of our trips on a blog, Travels With Robby.  But that website is just a personal journal.  Each post is a record of one trip...a diary of our own experiences, so it is probably only of interest to Rob, myself, and family members and friends who want to share the experience with us.

It's a great beginning, but as the aforementioned aspiring travel writer, I wanted to learn how to mine these personal stories for the little gems that could be cut into polished travel tales.  For help with this, I turned to an  award winning travel writer, master travel blogger, and great writing teacher, Dave Fox of Globejotting: A Home for Global Storytelling.

I "discovered" Dave while searching the web for help with travel journaling.  He had an older website with pages of good advice, including strategies to help with the biggest problem we travel journalers face - how to find time to journal when we are busy enjoying a trip.

Over the years, Dave expanded his services.  He turned his good website advice into a thoroughly enjoyable book, Globejotting: How to Write Extraordinary Travel Journals (and still have time to enjoy your trip!)  Dave is also a humor writer, winner of the Erma Bombeck Writers' Workshop Book Proposal Contest for his book, Getting Lost: Mishaps of an Accidental Nomad, and he put his humor to good use in his Globejotting book.

Dave also offers online travel and humor writing classes and these classes resulted in some of the best writing I have ever done.  Dave provides thorough and thoughtful feedback to his students in a tactful, friendly, but honest way.  He also hosts a forum for his writing students where they can share and critique their stories.  I am currently taking his new class, offered through Udemy, on creating publishable travel tales, "Travel Writing and Publishing: Globejotting 2.0."

For those of you wondering about his own travel "credentials," Dave is a world traveler with years of experience.  He lived in Norway as a high school exchange student and used his Norwegian and journaling skills to become a guide on the Scandinavian tours with Rick Steves.  He has led travel writing trips to Vietnam and Botswana, and he currently lives in Singapore with his wife Kattina, a science teacher at an international school there.

I encourage those of you with travel writing aspirations to check out his website and other services.  With Dave's help (and good advice from my Writers of Kern critique partners), I hope to turn some of my own travel journals into true travel tales that will bring the joy of traveling to a wider audience.

(If you are interested, you can also check out my two stories that have been published on Globejotting!  My Husband's Other Wife and Quetzal Quest.)

Fatu Hiva

Fatu Hiva
April 14, 2006

If you ask me to pick my favorite trip, I just can't.  Every destination has its own unique charm.  But I have found certain locations that will always hold a special place in my heart.  One of these is Fatu Hiva, the southernmost - and most gorgeous - of the Marquesas Islands.  We were traveling on the beautiful, small cruise ship, the Paul Gauguin.  On the morning of our arrival to Fatu Hiva,  I woke at dawn, threw on my pareu and went up on deck to see the small island come into view. It was quite spectacular and reminded me strongly of the Na Pali coast of Kauai, with the sides of its tall volcanic peaks eroded into sharp ridges and deep valleys. We anchored in the bay near the tiny town of Omoa, one of only two towns on this remote island which has a total population of only about 500.

It was quite exciting to be one of the few to visit a spot that is still relatively “undiscovered” by most of the world. Visitors are still rare here…although there are regular visits by the supply ship from Papeete.

There was no dock big enough for the tenders, so we took little zodiac rafts from the ship to the tiny dock. It was a challenge to step off the zodiac onto the land, as the waves bounced us up and down, but there were helping hands extended to help those of us who were athletically challenged. We were greeted at the top of the stairs with beautiful leis, warm smiles, and singing voices.

Due to the infrequency of visitors, our arrival was a big day for the village. The entire population seemed to be gathered for the event. We headed first for the craft building where the Marquesans had set out their handmade crafts…lovely wall hangings of tapa painted with intricate traditional designs…tikis made of rosewood, sandalwood, stone, and coral…various other wooden carvings, spears, and knives…and umuhei, aromatic bouquets of sandalwood and flowers. Rob and I bought a two tikis - one wood and one stone - to join the one of coral which we had purchased on Mo’orea on a previous cruise, then we joined our new friends, Bryce and Karen, and took a walk through the village and up the one road into the valley.

Fatu Hiva would certainly match most people's vision of a perfect tropical isle. There were coconut palms, papaya trees, (Rob's favorite), drooping with fruit, huge breadfruit trees, bananas, noni plants (which are a big cash crop for the islanders because of the supposed health benefits in noni juice)…even a pineapple growing by the side of the road! You could actually live off the land here. Add a few fish and it’s a feast! It would have been wonderful to spend a bit more time here. The road winds over the mountain about 10 miles to the one other town of the island, Hanaveve, but we were given only the morning in Omoa.

At noon, we returned to the town square for a dance performed by the children and teens of the village. It was not a polished, professional performance like those on board the ship or in Papeete, but in some ways even more charming, as it was so authentic. 

We stopped in at the little village church with its beautiful wooden carvings, then returned to the Paul Gauguin and began a leisurely cruise along the west side of the island.

As always, there were several activities going on around the ship. Some of the local vendors had joined the ship to sell more handicrafts, the Gauguines were showing off the beautiful (and expensive) Polynesian quilts called Tifaifai, and there was more basket weaving, but it was so gorgeous outside that I just had to stay on deck where I had a nice chat with Mark Eddowes, the ship's anthro-pologist. 

Soon we turned into the most gorgeous spot of the entire trip…the Baie des Vierges. (There is an interesting story about this name. The sailors who first visited here noted the rather phallic pillars of basalt standing guard over the bay and dubbed it the Baie de Verges, or Bay of Penises. As you might well guess, this did not sit well with the Catholic missionaries who followed, and the addition of one little vowel turned the name into the more wholesome Bay of Virgins.) I will rely on the photos to describe this scene, but they don’t do justice to the breathtaking beauty of the place. Sometimes wishes do come true because I was snapping pictures like crazy, wishing we could actually spend some time and explore when the announcement came from the Captain that, because of the perfect conditions, we would be given the opportunity to go ashore. Naturally, Rob and I hurried right down to take advantage of the offer!

Our arrival was greeted with great excitement from the children of Vavapepe. As we had not been expected to land, the village had not prepared for our arrival, so they were just going about their normal lives. It was Good Friday, and most of the village was just getting out of church. The children spotted us heading for the dock and came running down to the dock en masse to gape at us. We wished we had brought little gifts for them…pencils were an especially popular item…but alas, we had nothing to offer.

The women of the village also went running…but away from the dock to lay out their wares on blankets in front of their homes. Rob and I took another beautiful walk along the road that led back to Omoa. All too soon, it was time to depart this beautiful island, but we were not too hurried to enjoy an impromptu soccer match with a little boy from the village.

While waiting for the tender to pick us up, we enjoyed visiting with the funny, fat tiki god who stands guard over their harbor like a Polynesian Buddha.

Even our return to the ship was magical. We floated back at just the right moment to catch the sunset behind the Paul Gauguin. 

The "lesson" for the day?   There are rich rewards in seeking out the more remote spots in that are still relatively untouched by the modern world.

Early!

From the late entry of this post for the letter E, you might reasonably assume that I am a bit of a procrastinator.  You would be right.  I returned a week ago Sunday from a board meeting of the educational organization I serve on with good intentions to immediately open up my meeting notes and begin compiling and working my way through the to-do list.  I actually accomplished that goal yesterday...eight days after returning home.

But, oh, did I get a lot of housework done in the meantime!

Of course, if it actually is housework on the agenda, then I am likely to find myself in the garden pulling weeds instead.  I don't quite understand this tendency to do alternative activities rather than the ones I should be doing, though I do manage to get a lot of unplanned work done that way!

When it comes to travel planning, however, Rob and I could be in the running for the "Early Bird Hall of Fame."  This week, when I should have been doing my association's tasks, we spent hours researching and booking a tour that won't even take place until November, 2015.  As often happens, we are actually too early to book our airline flight or our hotels.   Many airlines will not take reservations prior to eleven months before your trip, and hotels often adjust their rates each year and are not willing to make a reservation until they are able to provide their customer with accurate information.  No matter!  The hotel was happy to put us on a waiting list and promised to notify us when reservations for our requested dates become available.  (And I added a note to my calendar to check again after the first of the year to follow up in case their waiting list goes astray.)

For the flight plans, I know I can count on Rob to be on the phone to the airline the very first date that seats are made available for our preferred flight.  His diligence has a lot of benefits.  By being early, we are assured of the flight we want, but even more importantly, we are also assured of getting the seats we want.  Any of you who have flown recently know that the airlines have been quietly scooting their coach seats closer and closer together.  Our local newspaper just ran a story on airline travel, stating that the minimum amount of space between seats to ensure passenger comfort is 34 inches, but the norm lately is 30 inches...far too small for my tall husband.  Rob has become a master at looking at the airplane charts and selecting the exact seats that will allow him to stretch his long legs.  Yes, we do have to pay a bit more for Economy Plus, but on a long flight, the cost is well worth it.

We are not only early in planning our trips..we are even early when taking the trips.  For international flights, airlines request that you check in two hours prior to the flight, but it is not unusual to find us through the security line and sitting in the terminal three hours ahead.  Some might think that sitting in the airport terminal for three hours is a terrible waste of time, but there are lots of ways to fill the hours.  In the last several years, many airports are recognizing our need to be "plugged in," and provide outlet stations where waiting passengers can plug in their iPads and smart phones to charge them up for the upcoming flight.  We can read, check emails, play Sudoku, browse in the airport shops, and people-watch.

Waiting for our journeys is not my favorite part of travel, but being early eliminates so much of the stress and hassle that it is worth the long wait at the gate.  Now if I could only learn this lesson when it comes to work and chores!

Dreams and Destinations

“The world is so full of a number of things,  I ’m sure we should all be as happy as kings.”

I've always loved this quote from Robert Louis Stevenson.  And when it comes to picking destinations for our travels, the "number of things" and places is almost overwhelming.  One of the most difficult parts of traveling for me is just finally settling on which of the 1,001 (or more!) places I want to visit this time.  

It all starts with the dreaming.  On the wall of our home is a large world map filled with red pins showing the places we have visited and, more importantly, green pins for the places we want to explore.  As we read, watch travel shows on TV, talk to other travelers, the number of green pins keeps rising.  

I love browsing through travel brochures and tour pamphlets.  Rob and I have taken organized tours, and there are advantages to this method of travel.  (More about that in an upcoming post!)  When possible, though, we prefer to arrange trips ourselves, and I find that the tour brochures are very helpful for finding places I might not have discovered on my own or for seeing the itineraries that others have set up. Tour companies pick their destinations for a reason, so they give me hints about the highlights of a country or region.

As you can see, coming up with ideas for future travels isn't the big issue. Our list of future travel dreams is probably too long to fit into our lifetime and our budget.  The hard part is deciding where to go next!

It helps to consider the time of year you have available to travel.  If you have a nice long winter holiday, isn't it convenient that the southern hemisphere is enjoying the summer?  It's the perfect time to visit South America, New Zealand, or even Antarctica.  Summer in the northern hemisphere is the best time for experiencing the land of the midnight sun, Norway, and her sister Scandinavian lands.  Spring and Fall are the best for the Mediterranean countries, East Africa, or Australia where summer heat may sap your energy and enthusiasm.

So...you've picked the season.  Now, what kind of experience do you want?  Are you looking for a rich cultural experience in a completely unfamiliar environment?  A world capitol city filled with great architecture, art museums, and fine dining?  A remote location surrounded by natural beauty and miles of hiking trails?  Or just a completely relaxing week on a quiet beach?  

Truth be told, if you are like me, you want all of these experiences.  I don't know of any 'best" way to pick the next trip.  Rob and I just start talking and dreaming, and when we come up with a trip where we both say at the same time, "That's the one!" then we know it's the right one.

So start dreaming!  Make your "Destinations List," close your eyes and stab your pin at the map.  In a world so filled with wonderful places, you can hardly go wrong!  

Carry On Only!

My husband and travel partner, Rob, introduced me to the joys of carry on luggage on our first trip together in 1999.  Like many other travelers in those pre-9/11 years when bags were checked free of charge, I was used to lugging around a big, fat, heavy suitcase stuffed with outfits for any and every contingency, four to six pairs of shoes (heels, hiking, sandals, slippers, rainy weather), coat, sweater, raincoat, hairdryer, set of hot rollers, make-up and toiletries, laptop, books to read during the flight.  I was certainly ready for anything...but at the end of the flight, I had to elbow through the big mob at the baggage claim carousel, hoping that my bag was joining me at the end of the flight.  Most of the time, it did.  Twice it did not.  The first time, it just meant sitting in the airport for an extra two hours waiting for the next flight to arrive.  The second time, my suitcase went to the land of lost luggage for a little week-long vacation, while I got spent my first days of vacation shopping for a replacement wardrobe.

So when Rob told me that he would be traveling with only a carry on bag and small backpack on our three-week-long trip to Paris, I was interested, but skeptical.  How could I possible carry everything I needed in such a small space?  I pulled out every item I would normally have packed and started sorting.  This first attempt took several hours of planning, rearranging, tossing out, negotiating with myself...but by the time we left for France, I had successfully packed a 22" x 14" x 9" suitcase and the backpack with a complete travel wardrobe.

After fifteen years of traveling with our carry on bags, I can't imagine ever going back.  We never have the worry of lost luggage.  There is no more waiting in long lines at baggage claim.  Best of all, walking through the cobblestone streets of Europe and tramping up and down the many steps of the charming older hotels that we prefer is so much easier with a small suitcase.

With the new baggage check costs imposed by many airlines in the past few years, Rob and I have been joined by many other travelers who rely on carry on.  In fact, our biggest luggage challenge now is finding enough space in the overhead bins on the airplane.  Yet I still have many friends who insist that they could never fit their travel wardrobe into a such a small suitcase.  To them, I say, "Yes, you can!"  In fact, on my last two trips, I found that I had over-packed!  Here are some photos of the wardrobe I packed for a trip to Maine this month.  When I unpacked, I discovered that there were two blouses I had never even worn.

Tip #1:  Wear your heaviest items and your bulkiest shoes on the plane.  The airplane tends to be chilly, so an extra sweater or your jacket may be a blessing while you travel.
Tip #2:  Mix and match!  (I focused on black, brown, and blue on this trip.)  Every piece of clothing should go with at least two other pieces.  Stick with a neutral color palette and use scarves to accessorize.  Use skirts instead of dresses.  Layer thinner items rather than relying on thick, bulky clothing.  And remember, if you travel from place to place, no one you see except your traveling companion knows that you have worn the same item four times on the trip.
Tip#3:  Minimize the amount of underwear you take.  Invest in some quick-dry underwear and simply wash it out every few days.
Tip #4:  Reduce the number of shoes you take.  Unless you are traveling "upscale," you don't need fancy shoes.  In fact, one pair of good walking shoes can get you through almost any situation.  In the summer, a couple of pairs of comfortable sandals can serve for both casual and dress.

Ziplock baggies are essential!

Tip #5:  Ziplock baggies are essential for carrying the liquid items that must be visible to the NSA staff in the security lines, but they are also handy for organizing many other items.  I use one bag for all of the cords needed to recharge my phone and iPad, as well as the little camera accessories.
A daily pillbox and a small cosmetics bag takes care of most of the other small items you will need.

These were all the items in my small backpack.

Tip #6:  A tablet or iPad replaces a myriad of other items.  It serves as a notebook and journal.  It stores your travel documents and photos of your passport.  It carries your music library, your downloaded movies, and dozens of books.
Tip #6:  Experiment with the packing method that suits you best.  Some people swear by rolling clothes, but I find that I can pack more by laying items flat.

All packed and ready to go!

If you are already a master of the carry on bag, give us your tips on packing light!  If you have not yet taken the plunge, let us know your questions and concerns.

Bubble

As I write this post, my husband, Rob, and I are enjoying a week in Maine.  This morning, we successfully completed a journey that we had begun over two years ago...a hike up one of the "Bubbles," a pair of rounded hills that sit side by side at one end of Jordan Pond in Acadia National Park.

This is the story of our first attempt to climb the Bubble...and with it, my Travel Lesson #2:  You can't do anything about the weather, so just relax and enjoy whatever Mother Nature blows your way!

UP THE BUBBLE

We really could not have timed it worse if we had tried.  Rob and I were on the last few days of our drive up the Maine coast and had finally reached Mount Desert Island, home to Bar Harbor and Acadia National Park.  The guidebooks for the region included vivid photographs of trees glowing red and golden under the autumn sun, cerulean ponds shimmering under sapphire skies, rocky islands dotting the many bays and inlets along this glacier-gouged coast.  As we drove into town, the anticipated vibrant colors were considerably muted by the grey drizzle that had followed us up the coast, but we held out high hopes for the following day.

We woke early, filled with anticipation for our drive to the top of Cadillac Mountain, which sits inside Acadia National Park just behind Bar Harbor.  At 1,532 feet, the mountain is the highest point along the North Atlantic seaboard, and the summit is the first place in the United State to catch the rays of the rising sun.  Somewhat to our dismay, the rays of the rising sun were totally absent, still hidden by thick grey clouds.  Ever the optimists, we drove into the park and wound our way slowly up the mountain.

As Rob drove, I took the role of perky minute-by-minute weathergirl.

“Oh, look, honey, I can see a little light shining through a little break in the clouds! -  I think I see a little blue over there! - I’m sure it will burn through any minute!”

The "view" from the top of Cadillac Mountain

We reached the parking lot near the top and walked up the trail to the very summit for the guidebook’s promised glorious views of the coastline.  We saw an ocean all right…an ocean of grey fog swirling around us, obscuring even the other tourists peering into the gloom.  We hiked around the trail for a half hour or so, vainly searching for a glimpse of the coast below, but finally admitted defeat and headed back down the mountain.

Determined to salvage the day, I dove into my Acadia National Park guide.

“Here’s another great hike, honey.  We can walk to the back of Jordan Pond and hike up the South Bubble.  It’s also supposed to have some great views, and I’m sure the weather will clear up by the time we get there!”

The Bubbles

And, in fact, the weather did appear more promising as we reached the trailhead at Jordan Pond, a lovely tree-lined lake.  At the far end of the pond sit “The Bubbles,” a pair of rounded mounds that rise to about 800 feet.  The walk along the very edge of the lake was a pleasant stroll along a well-maintained trail.  The frequent rains of the past few days had caused a number of little rivulets to flow over the path here and there, but I carefully hopped over them, keeping my new walking shoes warm and dry all the way to the fork in the trail that would take us up to the top of the South Bubble.

My husband has a very cute rear end.  I know this because the minute we start an uphill hike, that is the view I get as he charges effortlessly ahead while I huff and puff my way up the trail.  I quickly came to terms with the fact that I will never get to walk with him on the up hills but I get the advantage of the nice view, and he has slowly come to terms with the fact that he has a hopelessly out-of-shape wife but he gets the advantage of a nice rest when he reaches the top and waits for me.

We started up the South Bubble trail and, as usual, Rob forged ahead so quickly that I soon found myself walking alone.  I didn’t mind the solitude.  The forest was dark and cool and quiet and I was quite happy to amble slowly along enjoying the beauty of the surroundings.

About ten minutes into the climb, it started to sprinkle.  The leaves above me were so thick that I barely felt the drops but I could hear them tapping out a little rhythm.  I joined them with the little ditty from Disney’s Bambi.

“Drip drip drop, little April showers,
Beating a tune as you fall all around.
Drip drip drop, little April showers,
What can compare with your beautiful sound?”

About twenty minutes into the climb, it started to rain.  I sped up a little…trying to catch up to Rob.  The trail was no longer a nice tidy dirt path but had become a steep minefield of granite boulders and tree roots.

About twenty-five minutes into the hike, it started to pour.  I met a man coming rapidly down the trail and asked hopefully, “Am I almost to the top?”  He laughed and shook his head, “No, you’re about halfway.”

I cursed Rob under my breath for being so fit as I had to keep fighting my way up the trail to find him, but a few minutes later, he came down to me.

“Joan, we have to turn around. This is getting too dangerous.”

Soaked through!

I didn't know if I was mad for making it this far and just missing the target or happy that this torture was about to end, but Rob was right – it was pointless to go on.  We turned around to start our descent and gasped in dismay.   The heavy rain was being funneled right down the steep trail, which had become a raging waterfall.  We carefully picked our way along the edge of the boulder-strewn trail, grasping tree limbs to keep our balance.  The dirt on the boulders had turned into a treacherous slick surface that threatened to send us tumbling down the mountain.  Slowly, slowly, we made our way down to the flat trail back around Jordan Pond.  We looked at each other and burst out laughing.  Hair and clothing completely soaked through, we might as well have jumped in the lake and swum back.

Our search for gorgeous views that day was a failure, but the return hike held one consolation.  I did not have to jump over the rivulets that criss-crossed the path…I just marched right on through!

Abroad

"Go Abroad, Young Woman, Go Abroad!"

This was the siren song playing in my head when I got the notice that the University of California was accepting applications to its Education Abroad Program.  Until I saw that bulletin, I had never even considered going overseas to study, but the minute the opportunity presented itself, I started planning my packing list.

The first step was to select the country in which I would study.  This turned out to be quiet easy, as most of the universities required fluency in the language.  After four years of high school and college French classes, I still spoke very elementary French...and barely a word of Spanish, Italian, or German.  I had the grand choice of one program that did not require a language background, the university in Lund, Sweden.

Norwegian Stave Church

The selection process was lengthy: a round of essays, interviews, psychological testing, but finally I got the exciting letter that I had been accepted into the program.  Almost immediately, I received a follow-up letter notifying me that the University of Bergen, Norway had just joined the UC Education Abroad Program family, and asking if  I would consider going to Norway instead.  Accepting this invitation turned out to be one of the wisest decisions of my life.  Not only did I get to live in one of the most stunning places on earth, but I learned lessons about life, about other cultures and attitudes, and about myself, (along with a little bit of European history in my studies that year).

That wonderful year abroad instilled a wanderlust and a curiosity about the world that has still not yet been satisfied.  My husband, Rob, and I share the philosophy that life is short and the world is wide, so we travel as often as time and finances allow. This blog is going to highlight some of the "lessons" we have learned from our travels - and the first lesson is:  Don't wait!

Go Abroad, Dear Reader, Go Abroad!