Wednesday, October 31, 2012

Travel


Let’s talk about Laws of Responsible Travel.  I think we all know “Thou shalt not let thy bag out of thy sight” and “hug that backpack to your gut”, but there are a couple things that have stood out to me on this trip that I’m adding to my own list of commandments.  WARNING: boys, this is not going to be a dainty conversation.

The first topic on my list is diet, specifically referring to vegetables, fiber and Metamucil.  These things were all absent in the beginning of my trip; the flight to France yielded croissants and cheese, Feta and gyros came at me in Greece and the next thing I knew my gut was carrying around an impossible brick for days.  I’m proud of being a regular gal, and it really sucks being thrown out of whack when you’re focusing on experiencing everything a culture and landscape have to offer.  My advice: pack a fiber supplement and try to sneak in a salad every day.  It’s no fun being a kangaroo.

Second on my list is an e-Reader.  My dear friend Ran guided me through the selection process for one before my trip.  With a traveling lifestyle this thing is essential.  My magical packing is not developed enough to support carrying books for the trip, and I rarely am in a place long enough to rent, finish and return one to a library (this says more about the speed of my reading than how often I travel).  I also have a prehistoric Dell which requires an outlet and a decent amount of space to function, and an iPhone that will cost an arm and a leg if I use it abroad. My Kindle Fire allows me to mooch off anyone’s internet to catch up on emails, let my parents know I’m alive, post pics that make me look cool and well-traveled on Facebook and check out books from the library for FREE.  Pretty sweet, I’m just sayin’.

The third element on my list was a recent and drastic revelation for me.  WARNING WARNING: males should skip this paragraph.  You’re going to read it anyway and complain, but I am no longer culpable.  I’m talking about the Diva Cup.  It’s a small rubber funnel-shaped object that is a tampon-alternative.  Imagine never buying tampons again!!  You fold the cup into a U-shape, and insert like a tampon.  If all goes well it springs open and creates a seal.  You can leave it in all day without fearing Toxic Shock (no more waking up in cold sweats, ladies), and if you get it in right it doesn’t leak at all.  The first day I used it I did an intense 46-mile bike ride, and it worked like a charm.  I immediately fell in love.  I’ve had some tribulations this week with not getting it in quite right, so I still use pads, but it’s so nice not worrying about keeping a stash of Tamps on hand in and out of security checkpoints.  www.DivaCup.com check it out.

I fantasize about making it one day into The Best Women’s Travel Writing book collection.  If you’ve never stumbled across one of these books you should; they release one each year.  Each is compiled of short stories from various writers hailing from all different backgrounds.  The authors are briefly introduced following their composition, and there’s always something cutesy they’ve written about themselves (something like: Sandra roams the world discovering herself through the animals she sees, but is really searching for a wild animal to be eaten by.)  I find myself daydreaming what I would write about myself.  “McKynlee has successfully avoided settling down into a money-making career, and is instead experiencing every part of the world she can by means of alcoholic beverages.  But if her mother is reading this, never in excess.”  Think I’ve got a shot in Hell of getting in?

France

My first European journey began when I landed in Paris at 9:00 AM.  My connecting flight out wasn’t until 8:50 PM, so I had mapped out which trains to take into downtown from the airport.  I was informed that American Airlines doesn’t have an agreement with Aegean Air to transfer luggage (a good thing to verify for future travels), so I had to wait at baggage claim and then pay to have my bag babysat at the airport while I took Paris by storm.  [I was also informed that Aegean is not pronounced to rhyme with Rocky Balboa’s girlfriend; thank you Rebecca Collins].   Lady Luck was feeling really sassy with me that day; Paris’s rail system went on strike that morning, so I found a longer, more expensive bus to get me downtown.   Travel’s not fun if you don’t earn it, right?  Right…?

Paris felt like an old acquaintance.  It was reminiscent of New York City, except many more cigarettes and much less deodorant (I thought I might be knocked unconscious on the bus).   Gorgeous women were everywhere driving mopeds; flowing hair, leather jackets, high heels.  I wore my beret-ish hat and sleek winter coat in an attempt at assimilation.  The attempt was a failure, though, because a barrage of petitioners with clipboards pinpointed me in the crowd at various points in the city.  Each asked if I spoke English.  The first one caught me off guard and I said yes.  The little teenage boy continued to hassle me in increasing volumes of “EXCUSE ME, A COIN!” while cutting into my pathway.  I’m a pretty big pushover, so if he’d been polite I might have done it, but a rude begger really chaps my ass so I pushed through.  I lost my ability to speak English with the subsequent petitioners, even though one was a sweet girl promoting the Deaf and Mute Foundation with waves of her hands and blown kisses (I guess I’m not as big of a pushover as I’d like to believe). 
Girl in Paris or Parisian Girl... Where's the cigarette?

I walked from the Opera House to the Louvre and then on to Notre Dame.  Every direction you turn calls out with impressive architecture and important-looking buildings.  It was very easy to get around by foot, although after not having slept on the plane the night before I was quickly exhausted.  I caught an early bus back to the airport and pitifully fought sleep until my flight to Crete.  Overall I was satisfied with sneaking a taste of Paris.
Notre Dame

Street art + Biggest Bubble Ever