I just got in last night (not in the morning—it seems I need to pay a bit more attention to detail) from my long-awaited, outstanding splurge of a trip on a long boat from Paris through the heart of Normandy. My resolve not to be a particular type of older woman and my increasingly positive outlook on life (including the conviction that joy is our birthright) definitely contributed to the most enriching, rejuvenating experience in recent memory. The well has been filled to the brim, both with huge hits like Monet’s Garden at Giverny and the D-Day commemoration at the landing beaches, to small joys like swans on the Seine and mistletoe growing wild in the trees on the bank. I found so much to be grateful for, not least of which is the reminder that, for me, travel is a huge component of a life worth living.
I wasn’t always an easy, grateful traveler; I seem to have evolved in this regard over the years. Today I thought I’d share my crone’s tips for a fabulous trip.
Adjust your attitude. These days I focus on travel rather than vacation, which can imply a desperate attempt to get away from (i.e. vacate) one’s life. Now that I’m living according to my values, travel is no longer the few weeks a year that I pine for, but a vibrant part of a happy life that always stimulates further enhancements. I’ve grown up enough to know that the Universe doesn’t owe any of us a perfect trip, so cultivating radical flexibility goes a long way toward ensuring my enjoyment regardless of any circumstances.
Temper your expectations. We all know that air travel can be challenging these days, and that unforeseen events occur. I used to be inconsolably disappointed when there were travel delays or inconveniences, when the weather was bad, when the accommodations weren’t as advertised, when my kids misbehaved or got sick, when my husband was less than charming. Now I try to keep my expectations extremely low and I’m usually pleasantly surprised. This trip I consciously asked myself “what if it turns out better than I could imagine?” And several times, it did.
Don’t skimp on comfort. Ideas of comfort are highly individual and may change over time. Once I figured out what comfort means to me, and acknowledged the truth of the maxim you get what you pay for, I reached a new level of satisfaction with my travels. For me, comfort isn’t necessarily luxury; it’s a clean accommodation with a comfortable bed that is centrally located so that I can immerse myself in my new location. Comfort also means arriving at my destination with as little wear and tear on my old body and busy mind as possible. So I’m always going to spend the extra money on the non-stop flight, and I’m never going to save money by staying somewhere that doesn’t meet my needs for comfort and convenience.
Disconnect as much as possible. I’ve never been terribly attached to my phone and have little trouble ignoring it for hours at a time while traveling. I spend far more time on my laptop, writing but also “researching” and checking out social media. On this trip I left the laptop behind for the first time. Not reflexively resorting to this distraction in quiet moments allowed me to reflect and daydream and made me feel more alive. I didn’t miss it for a moment. For me, this disconnection also extends to photographs: I now snap just a few iconic shots and stay fully present to soak in the rest, which I find makes more lasting memories.
Lose the guidebook. In my relative youth, I not only devoured the guidebook before a trip, but on the trip it’d be attached to my hand lest I miss anything. Maybe it’s having lived overseas for extended periods of time, or maybe it’s maturity, but the urge to check off “must see” items has left me entirely. Now I might read a bit on my way to a new destination, but I’m all about just soaking in the ambience. If I’m in a new city, I relax on a hop on/hop off tour and later check out anything that piqued my interest. If I’m in a smaller place, I hit the streets. Wherever I am, I get recommendations from locals. This invariably leads to far more memorable experiences than following a guidebook.
Choose your traveling companion(s) wisely. This is, of course, the most important piece of the puzzle. Nobody wants the unforgettable part of the experience to be the person who consistently got on your last nerve. I am blessed to have more than one traveling companion that I consider stellar. We may differ in all sorts of ways, but we have several things in common that make it work: independence, flexibility, a youthful outlook, and a similar travel philosophy (i.e. there is no schedule, and nobody’s going to get their undies in a bunch if we miss a sight, or a shop, or even a meal). It’s a bonus if you can make each other laugh like hyenas, which is why my companion on this particular trip gets my “overall best” rating.
As I prepare to dive back into my daily life, I realize this trip was also a sort of quieting. Being so far removed from my daily routine has given me the opportunity to reboot with minor adjustments.
Wishing you all safe, happy and abundant travels.