Category Archives: How To

How to Pack: An Illustrated Guide

Posted on by
Reply

How do you pack for two weeks in Spain and Morocco when it’s going to be chilly at night and warm during the day and it will likely rain a little and you’re by yourself so you need to be entertained and you’re old-fashioned and still use paper everything?

Yeah, yeah, you can keep your Kindles. I like paper, OK?

Like this:

1) Roll your clothes.

You guys know this, right? Everybody knows this by now? You roll everything. It gets less wrinkly and it’s easier to stuff a lot of t-shirts into a backpack side-by-side in little t-shirt tubes than to try to shove them in folded.

2) Prepare for the foreseeable. Don’t worry about the unforeseeable.

Weather.com says it’s going to rain in Madrid and Seville while I’m there, so I’m taking an umbrella. If it doesn’t rain, oh well, a little wasted weight–but it’s likely that it will rain, so it makes sense to bring gear for it. However, it’s unlikely that I’m going to go hiking, so I’m not bringing hiking boots. If I do wind up hiking, my feet may be a little miserable in my sneakers, but you have to do the best you can given the information you have.

3) Don’t pack the cat.

No matter how much she wants to come along.

4) Snacks!

Highly un-picturesque aw almonds and craisins

‘Nuff said.

5) Double-check the list.

For a trip like this, where I need so much (clothes for different climates and cultures, various bits of electronic gadgetry and their respective chargers), I actually make a list and cross things off as they go in the backpack. It helped both for buying supplies in advance (I needed to buy a long skirt, a lightweight scarf, and several travel-sized toiletry items) and for making sure all those items got into my bags. I often forget things like socks or a hairbrush that I feel sure must have gone into the bag somewhere at some point–but with the list, I know.

And there you have it:

Two weeks’ worth of life in two little bags. Easy to carry, and no need to check anything.

I’ll report as I can from the road. Until then, I leave you in the capable hands of Laura, Brooke, Cary, and friends. 

How to: Get a Deal on a Hotel Room

Posted on by
Reply

Not everyone cares to spend their time hunting for a deal. For me, it’s less about the money saved and more about the fun of planning an awesome trip and the rush of scoring a deal. The more time I spend planning a trip, the more I’m thinking about vacations, and the more I’m thinking about vacations, the less likely I am to be grouchy.

Book early. Hotels may offer early bird rates on hotel booking sites like Hotels.com or Orbitz. For instance, I got 50% off a room at in La Fortuna de San Carlos in Costa Rica by booking four months in advance.

Check back frequently. If you didn’t find a deal on your room, check back each week before you leave. Hotels might offer special rates closer to your trip if they have a lot of unbooked rooms. For instance, while researching lodging in and around La Fortuna, I found the Rio Celeste Hideaway—off the beaten path, tucked into the jungle, with awesome amenities. I totally fell in love with the place, but the rate was out of my budget. Now that the trip is getting closer, the hotel is offering 30% off.

Shop around. Most of the time, the prices are comparable across the hotel booking sites. Occasionally, though, one of them will have a much better price than the others. Point in case: Tabacon Grand Thermal Resort is one of the priciest hotels in La Fortuna. The rate on Hotels.com and Expedia for a superior room? $451 a night. The rate on Orbitz for the same room? $207. Why? Don’t ask questions, just book it!

Also check the hotel site directly. Sometimes the rates offered by the hotel itself are much better (and sometimes much worse) than the hotel booking sites. It’s also worth it to compare the cancellation policy, which may be different as well.

Get on the phone. OK, so you booked super early to score a great deal, but now your itinerary has evolved. If you change the dates of your stay you might lose your awesome rate. But don’t worry. Hotels and hotel booking sites will likely be flexible with their policies. You just need to call and ask nicely. After all, they’d rather bend the rules than lose your business altogether. For instance, when I tried to use Hotels.com to change a reservation from three nights to two, the site wanted to rebook me at the current, higher nightly rate. A three-minute phone call later, and customer-service rep Alex hooked me up, letting me keeping the original rate for my new dates. Too easy.

Now that you have some tips for getting deal, check back next week for tips on choosing the best hotel for your money.

How to: Leave Town for a While

Posted on by
1

Most of the trips I’ve taken recently have been of the five-days-or-less variety. These sorts of things are pretty easy to set up and maneuver. You don’t need too much stuff, you don’t need to make many, if any, arrangements for while you’re gone. You can just pick up and go, and then, before you know it, you’re back, and life has gone pretty much fine without you.

My trip next month, though, is for two full weeks, which I’m incredibly excited about, but which also necessitates a bit more planning and preparation. Here’s what’s on my checklist.

1) Deadlines

I just so happen to be leaving town when taxes are due, and I’ve slacked on them because mine are ridiculously complicated this year. But I have to get them filed before I leave, which means now. I also have to make sure my money is all in the correct bank accounts for things like my mortgage autopayment, because although that’s something I could do online from anywhere, I won’t necessarily have time or access to do them abroad.

2) Pets

I have a cat. This is my first mistake, I know. But I need to have someone come in to feed her, clean up after her, and play with her a little so she doesn’t go insane. (How you people with dogs ever leave town without them, I don’t understand. They’re so much needier.) I’m lucky enough to have fantastic neighbors who happily do this for me, but I do have to ask them, make sure they’re available, and make sure they know where they put my spare key. (And then remember to buy them a little present while I’m gone, because seriously, they’re wonderful and otherwise I’m not quite sure what I’d do with the creature while I’m away.)

3) Day job

I’m lucky enough to have a day job that’s cool with me taking off for two weeks, even though some project schedules slipped and now this is a very inopportune time for me to be leaving. So I have to get a lot of work done in advance–in my job, that means rescheduling a lot of meetings and creating a lot of documents for someone else to tweak at the last minute–and then ask some coworkers to cover for me while I’m out, because I don’t actually have any employees who have to do this without me calling in favors and asking really nicely. This will necessitate more presents.

4) Emergency contact

Despite being of an age where I should really have a significant other to be my emergency contact, I have to tell my parents where I’m going. This is one of the more humiliating facts in my adult life. Flight info, hotels, how to get in touch with me if something goes horribly awry at home. My mom would probably appreciate a more detailed itinerary, but I don’t have one, because, spontaneity!, so it’s bare bones for them.

How to: Document a Trip

Posted on by
Reply

If you’re going to spend the time and money to take a trip, you want to hold on to it and share it. Your own memories are priceless, of course, but to augment them, there are plenty of options for documenting your experiences.

Photos

The most obvious choice. Everybody takes vacation photos, because everyone takes photos of everything these days, and shares it on Facebook and Instagram and eight million other obnoxious things. I should know–I do this. Take lots of pictures, since it doesn’t cost you anything to snap away a few more times to get it right. But also take time to look directly at the thing you’re taking pictures of. Remember to actually have the experience you’re documenting. And don’t forget to take pictures of people, including yourself. Sure, that view is great, but what you’re going to want, many years from now, is that view with you and your dad standing in front of it.

Videos

I hate videos. If there’s one thing I find more awkward than looking at pictures of myself, it’s hearing myself speak and move. I can’t believe people put up with it every day. However, they’re great for capturing some moments, like a traditional dance or the running of the bulls. Because videos tend to be longer and thus take more concentration than photos, you want to use video more sparingly, because it takes you further out of the experience for longer.

Audio

I seriously considered taking a pocket recorder on my first trip to Europe with me, and I regret not doing it to this day. I’ve never made audio recordings, but there are some things, like the sound of touts at a street market or a band wandering by your cafe table in Berlin, that I wish I could hear again, to take me back to those moments.

Journals

I’m terrible about keeping a journal on a daily basis anymore, except when I’m traveling. I like taking a little time, either at the end of the night or over breakfast the next morning, to write about what I saw and did and felt the day before. As a writer, putting pen to paper helps me process what I’ve seen and think about what it means. I don’t travel just to see monuments and eat good food; I travel to expand my life, and writing helps me bridge between the two. Also, of course, I can mine those journals later on for posts here.

Souvenirs

My mom and Brooke have already covered this topic pretty well, so I won’t rehash too much. I’m not a huge fan of buying souvenirs, primarily because I’m a minimalist cheapskate, but there a couple of items I’ve bought while traveling that I treasure and that make me happy just to look at them and remember where they came from. For me, I think the souvenir that documents the trip best isn’t the kitschy knick-knack that you saw at every stand; it’s the rare find that catches your eye with a story to go along with it, like the tiny, cramped junk shop I stumbled across while recovering from an illness in Budapest, where I found an ornately painted copper lamp. It didn’t cost much and probably wasn’t worth even that, but I remember the dim light and musty smell of that place like it was yesterday.

Scraps

I can’t think of another way to describe these, but I always save ticket stubs, brochures, transit passes, buttons, and other odds and ends that I collect on a trip. They sit in a box in my closet that I only look at when I move, but for some reason, I like to keep these bits and pieces. They don’t cost anything, and they’re tangible proof that you were somewhere else.

How do you document your travels?

How to: Choose Traveling Shoes

Posted on by
5

You think the hardest part about travel is deciding where to go, keeping to a budget, or adjusting to a new culture? Wrong. Dead wrong. The hardest part about travel is choosing the right traveling shoes.

Seriously, this is a constant problem for me, because almost every trip I take involves a ton of walking, though not necessarily actual wilderness hiking, but they almost all involve being in cities where I’ll want to go to bars and restaurants and generally look cute, too.

Theoretically I could bring two pairs, but shoes are bulky and heavy, and when space and weight is at a premium in my backpack, I hardly want to pack an extra pair.

The first consideration is temperature. When the weather isn’t going to be too hot, I default to a pair of tall, flat black boots that I wear like a uniform at home because I like the way they look, they go with everything, and they’re comfortable enough for me to walk the length of the city in. But if I’m going to a warm climate, knee-high boots are not exactly appropriate. I used to have a pair of perfectly comfortable black flats that similarly looked good and went with everything, but I walked around in them so long that I wore holes in the soles. And because I hate shopping, and I hate clothes and shoe shopping worst of all, I haven’t found a pair to replace them yet.

I suppose I could stop being so vain about what I put on my feet, but I feel pretty strongly that wearing bulky athletic shoes, which might be comfortable for long walks, points you out as a gauche tourist. And I just can’t. I would rather have blisters and bloody feet than wear un-cute sneakers. (Although I do have one reasonably good-looking and very comfy pair of sneakers that will do for city walking and for dive bars and casual restaurants, although not for a night at the theater or fancy dinners.)

Usually, what gives is my desire for a lighter and emptier bag. I will just pack an extra pair of shoes to wear out at night or when I want to look dressier, and I’ll wear bulkier walking shoes (I don’t have a proper pair of hiking boots, but I do have some sturdy running shoes that work well) on actual travel days so I don’t have to take up too much extra room in my backpack.

The conundrum remains: barring extreme weather conditions or other outrageous circumstances (formal wedding, mountain climbing), what are the ideal shoes for traveling in? Can you ever have just one pair? Are two options always necessary?

How to: Blend

Posted on by
8

As I’m preparing for my upcoming trip to Morocco, I’m wondering how hard it’s going to be, honestly, for me, as a solo female traveler, as a white Westerner, as a non-Muslim, as a person with nonexistent Arabic and shaky French language skills. In most of the places I’ve traveled to, as long as I’ve kept my mouth shut, I’ve looked pretty much like I could belong there. Even in Istanbul, my only previous travel in the Muslim world, more than one person approached me speaking Turkish and was surprised when I wasn’t able to answer, because they assumed I was local. (Half Eastern European genes + half Western European genes + dyed auburn hair = plausible modern Istanbullu lady, apparently?) But I don’t think that holds for Morocco. So here’s what I’m going to try.

1) Learn to talk. 

I’ve written before about the important words and phrases to learn in the language spoken wherever you’re traveling. I’ve also been informed that, particularly in Morocco, respect and politeness are of the utmost importance in all personal interactions. So I’m going to learn the most formal ways to greet people, say goodbye, and say thank you. I’m a guest in their country, and my mama raised me right.

2) Learn to act.

Cultural norms of behavior are incredibly complex, especially if you’re trying to move around in a culture that in many ways is diametrically opposed to the one you were raised in. Liberal feminist me will need to be aware of the things I can and can’t, should and shouldn’t, do. Can I shake a man’s hand? Can I sit alone in a cafe? One small and not exactly gender-specific example: when I sit down, I automatically cross my legs, and often, I’ll cross them in the more traditionally “male” way, ankle on knee. In casual settings at home I don’t even think about it. But in Muslim countries, pointing the bottom of your foot at someone like that is extremely insulting. So I need to be aware of that, aware of what I’m doing and how it might look or feel to the people around me.

3) Learn to dress.

This one is going to involve some shopping. My standard uniform at home is skinny jeans and a lowcut t-shirt most of the year or a short dress when it’s hot. It’s what I like to wear, what I feel comfortable in, what I think I look good in. These things aren’t going to fly in Morocco. I was told by a woman at one of my favorite local travel spots, Kopi Cafe, that she felt more comfortable during her travels in Morocco when she was conservatively dressed, and it’s likely that this made the people around her more comfortable as well. So I need to buy a long, flowy skirt or some loose linen pants and some long-sleeved, higher-necked shirts. I’ve also read that, while not all Moroccan women, especially in cities, cover their heads, it might make women traveling alone feel a bit more safe and protected to do so. I’ll plan to bring along a scarf, so I’ve got the option.

What are some of the adjustments you’ve had to make while traveling in another country?

How to: Visit Chicago Like a Chicagoan

Posted on by
601

[Ed. note: The below piece of writing is extremely funny. It is also extremely profane. The word irreverent does not go far enough. If you're offended by salty language and off-color humor, please just enjoy our photo today and I promise we'll be back to our usual family-friendly routine promptly tomorrow.]

[Ed. note part 2: It's also really long. Tough.]

[Ed Hirsch is a huge nerd, rap enthusiast, and homesick Chicagoan currently stationed in Dallas. He is the love child of Studs Terkel and David Mamet.]

Since moving out of Chicago, I’m asked about every three months for advice about visiting Chicago: what to do, where to stay, what to eat, and so on. I’ve come to realize in these conversations that either (a) I’m a complete slug of a person or (b) everyone assumes I spent twenty-eight years in Chicago living as a tourist. While (a) is probably true, this article is about (b). People will ask me about a restaurant like Charlie Trotter’s or what I think about the Drake Hotel, and I have to remind people that I was living in Chicago on $40k a year. I make more now ($41k!) and I still don’t stay at the Drake when I fly back home. I guess I just know a bunch of obnoxious WASPs, but I don’t think you learn anything about Chicago by trying to hang around Streeterville and Gold Coast for a long weekend. So below I’m going to compile my true honest-to-god suggestions for visiting Chicago.

Where do I fly into?

I don’t care. They’re both about the same distance from where you’re going to stay. Yes, I know where you’re going to stay.

How much is a cab from the airport? Will the cab driver rip me off?

1. If you take a cab from the airport to downtown you’re a coward. Get on the El. Smell public transportation, you baby.

2. Yes, a cab driver will at some point rip you off. You’re a guest in the city, and you should be happy to overpay our cabbies.

OK, so I’m staying at the Drake…

Hahahahahhahahaha and you’re worried about getting ripped off by a cabbie? You bitch.

Stay at the Tremont. It’s $90 a night, two blocks from the Drake, and nobody worth a dime gives a shit that you roomed where some princess or Oprah or whoever stayed. You didn’t get treated like them anyway.

OK, I’m checked in. Now what do I do?

OK, so here are the things I think I would list as cool things to do in Chicago. No particular order:

1) River tour. If it’s warm out, a historical/architecture tour of Chicago is rad for both tourists and locals. Aside from a nice, breezy trip on the not overly smelly river, architectural tours in Chicago actually have significance. This isn’t your chumpsville city where you paid a bunch of dipshits a cool million to design a glass dildo in the center of your three-block downtown. Buildings in Chicago actually mean something to the history of  the city, and you’ll learn something about the meat packing industry, health and sanitation, immigrant migration, and other cool stuff that you probably won’t appreciate because you’re a fucking uneducated hick. Fuck you.

2) Art Institute. Chicago museums are in general the types of museums you have to commit a day to, and I think the Art Institute probably does that experience the best. If you can figure out a way to get tickets in advance it will save you twenty minutes in a line. The “doll-houses” are downstairs, and you can skip the African and Asian art (you fucking racists) and go through the Greek/Roman section and hit up the American classics. That will kill two hours at least, more likely three. You’ve seen about 20 percent of the museum. Also please consider reading (if you can actually read) things about the art. Art has meaning kinda!

Realize your father is terrible.

3) Get someone over the age of fifty to drive you to Pullman Town. I was lucky enough to tag along one weekend when my dad took a friend of his on a tour of the South Side. See, despite what thirty-something yuppie shitheels in Chicago think, the South Side actually wasn’t always just for black people! You should swing through Bridgeport, over to Bronzeville, down to Hyde Park, through Washington Park to Englewood, and then on to Pullman. Ideally this person giving the tour is Jewish, but I don’t have high hopes for you. Pullman is itself an interesting historic landmark, and there’s a nice little museum.

4) Cubs game. As a Sox fan, it makes me barf to say this, but you’ll get better photos and it’s more interesting to walk around Clark and Addison even though it’s just a bunch of frat guys. Hell, you’ll probably feel pretty comfortable with that.

That should eat up your weekend.

OK, but what I was thinking of doing…

I KNOW WHAT YOU WERE THINKING OF DOING IT’S ALL STUPID THAT’S WHY I DON’T CARE.

1) Shopping on the Mag Mile. Ahahhahahahahahahah you fucking dipshit. You don’t have an outlet store in your state? Believe me, I want your fucking money flowing through the coffers of the city of Chicago as much as anyone, but if you came to Chicago to shop you are human trash and I hope you die.
2) Going up the Hancock/Sears Tower. Wow, you went up high. You were higher up when you flew in. Also, you’re going to spend too much on a drink in the Signature Room while sitting next to some screaming kid. Great move, asshat.
3) Seeing a show. Yeah, you aren’t going to see anything interesting, you’re going to see some musical prepping for Broadway or back touring. Wait for it to come to your dumbass state, maybe? You could go to iO or a million other great improv troupes or small theaters, but risking being in a theater where you might have to have a thought about what you just saw is likely for you pretty scary.
4) See the Bean without a local. Seeing “The Sky Bridge” seems like such a great idea too, right?! Millennium Park is like a park but without all that history and gravitas that real Chicago parks have. If you don’t have a fat half-Italian bitching about Daley as you try to take your stupid reflection shot, you’re incapable of raising children right. Ponder that.
5) The Taste. I hope someone shoots you.

Pictured: three stabbings, eight thefts, and someone eating a stupid thing on a stick

OK, I am properly humbled. Now, WHERE DO I EAT CHICAGO HAS GREAT FOOD RIGHT GREAT FOOD FOOD FOOD FOOD STUFF FOOD IN MY MOUTH I NEED TO BE A FAT PIGGIE.

OK, now here’s where we get serious.

Eating like a Chicagoan means understanding you can get good to great food anywhere. Yeah, I’m sure Rick Bayless has had his proverbial knob gobbled by every Food Network person you watch, but it turns out if you don’t go to some rib joint that’s open until 1 a.m. you may as well be a plantation owner. So here are some quintessential Chicago dining experiences.

Chicago-Style Pizza

Yeah I know you went to Gino’s East or Giordano’s or whatever. You did it wrong. First off, you ate at the restaurant. Second, you were probably mostly sober. In no way is that how you approach eating a Chicago-style pizza.

1) Go out to a dive bar on the north side (anything west of Southport and north of Belmont will count, I feel; YMMV) and begin drinking. If they have PBR you should have at least two. Same with Schlitz. If you want to do the beer snob thing, you’re welcome to it. Same with scotch. No wine. Vodka is OK.
2) Keep drinking.
3) Begin talking to locals. They will be the interesting people around you.
4) Become best friends with locals. It should be about 10:30 by now.
5) Keep drinking. Decide if you are going to try to sleep with any of these people.
6) At 12:30, begin talking about how you’re hungry. This will be true as you have not eaten.
7) Convince your new friends to take you to their apartment. It will look like this most likely:

Hello, I am a two-flat.

8) Order a deep dish from Chicago’s Pizza.

9) Fifty minutes later, make a major ordeal about how you are going to pay this delivery guy.
10) Eat a slice of the pizza that you have somehow paid for.
11) Fall asleep on couch, not having sex with locals.
12) Wake up four hours later. At this point the pizza should be sitting on the coffee table across from you. The cheese has congealed and the sauce gone cold. Think to yourself “There is a block of cheese inside of me. It has to get out…right?” Ponder your life failures as you sneak out of this person’s apartment and try to find a cab/el stop.

This is a picture of failure.

This is a picture of failure.

Chicago Meat

Oh you want to go to a steakhouse? Ohhhhhhh hmmmmmm yeah no. Half the places out there are chains, and you aren’t mafia enough to pull off being in the ones that aren’t. Chicago meat to you can be summed up as HogDogGyroItalianBeefSausageBurger. Also ribs.

The shortcut to all your Chicago meat needs is Portillo’s. I know what you’re thinking: did this guy who can’t stop being a prick to me just tell me to go to a chain? First off, it’s no chain you ever heard of so put your dick away. Second, go ask around about Portillo’s and see what kind of reaction you get. Portillo’s is like the only popular thing Chicagoans like that’s not named Derrick Rose.

But, if you want to live it real, avoid Portillo’s and find your own hole in the wall. To do this, first you look for a sign.

Despite never being there, I know this is a reputable establishment.

Despite never being there, I know this is a reputable establishment.

Your keys to spotting this place are:

1) Vienna Beef logo on their hanging sign
2) Their name includes one or more of the following
a. Chicago
b. Windy City
c. Beef
d. Dog
e. Gyros
f. The name of the street you’re on
g. The name of a street you’re not on
h. Any ethnic sounding name followed by an “ ‘s ”
3) Their staff appears to all be related or from the same ethnicity
4) They have any of the following
a. Signed pictures of the old mayor
b. Railroad paraphernalia
c. A picture of a giant hotdog, possibly floating in Lake Michigan
d. A menu hanging above the counter that appears to have ~50 items
e. An elderly lady working the cash register

You should expect to eat here a few times. You will want to try a hot dog (plain), another hot dog (everything), Italian beef (hot peppers), Italian sausage (peppers), gyros (everything, pronounce it “euros” or someone will slap you in a just world).

Chicago Ethnic Food

Chicago is good at ethnicities and racism. It’s a good mix, as it means you end up with very particular neighborhoods and streets (ghettos?) to experience unique foods. Here in Texas, I’m not sure if most people can tell the difference between an African American and a Latino, but in Chicago my old barber (Uncle Joe!) once gave me a lecture on exactly when the neighborhood went to hell: when the Irish moved in.

So while in Chicago, you should at least try to get someplace weird. While I think Andersonville and Rogers Park are two great places to do it, I’m going to send you to Uptown. Uptown works for three reasons. First, it’s accessible, right off the Red Line. Second, it has an energetic corner at Lawrence and Broadway. Third, the Green Mill is there. And fourth, there’s a rad Ethiopian place called Demera. If you’ve never had Ethiopian food before, I expect you to go. Do not google anything. Do not be a coward. Do what they do and stop crying. If you’re lucky, you’ll also get to see a guy perform guitar there and drink some honey wine. Once you’re done, go across the street to the Green Mill. Pay the cover. Listen to whatever weird experimental Swedish jazz band has flown in to play there and just there. Shut your gaping mouth and just try to appreciate what is happening. Please. Try.

THAT’S A LOT TO DIGEST, LOL.

I get it. A pun.

OK, so this should get you through your weekend in Chicago such that I will give a crap about what you did there. Other things to consider may be:

  • getting into a fight with a homeless man at an el stop
  • having a terrible opinion about sports and sharing it with everyone
  • being involved in a gun crime
  • eating a plate of fries at Clarke’s and wondering how unsanitary the kitchen is
  • going to a Polish buffet on the far northwest side and getting threatened by a three-hundred-pound man in sweatpants
  • freezing your fucking balls off
  • becoming a fan of Rod Blagojevich
  • bitching about Oprah
  • growing a moustache

How To: Meet People on the Road

Posted on by
4

Earlier this week I explained some of my favorite parts of solo travel. But sometimes you just want someone to talk to for a few minutes, to get out of your head and into society for a little while.

Tip 1: Stay somewhere where you’ll interact with people.

In addition to being cheap, hostels are great places to meet up with other travelers, either solos or groups. People who stay at hostels seem to be more open to chatting, sharing ideas about things to do in the area, or even joining up for a meal or an excursion. Just be sure, before you head out for a long day with someone, that you actually want to spend time with them. I had the unfortunate experience of meeting the dumbest girl in the world in a Florence hostel (example: Upon seeing endless “Madonna con Bambinos” at the Uffizi galleries, she asked, in her loud, flat Aussie voice, “So who’s this Madonna then?” My answer: “Um, the mother of Jesus.” To which she replied, “But that was Mary!” Yup.), and she tagged along with me all the way to Rome. Not ideal.

Tip 2: Eat at the bar.

Dinners are when a solo traveler feels most obviously alone. Eating at the bar invites conversation, either with the bartender or your fellow patrons. I had a progressive dinner while I was in Portland, stopping at several bars for a drink and a snack at each, and at the  Deschutes Brewery, while enjoying something more bitter than I’d expected and a savory onion tart, I dove into a very odd conversation with a former waiter at the pub who was going through some tough times with his babymama. It got pretty deep, as conversations while drinking with total strangers sometimes can. Embrace it. You’ll never see these people again.

Tip 3: Join a tour group.

I don’t mean that you should take your whole trip with a tour group. That sounds horrific. But to join up with a group that’s doing a bike tour of Amsterdam, for example, or a literary pub crawl in Dublin, would be a nice way to hang out with some new folks for a few hours. And if you have fun on your tour, you can just segue nicely into dinner afterward… or a few more pints.

How to: Not Die on a Waterfall Hike

Posted on by
3

Hikers have high standards for behavior on the trail. If you don’t meet them, and if you have even a small sense of awareness, you’ll know it.

The following behaviors will raise an eyebrow: wearing flip flops, not carrying water, carrying a cup of Starbucks, or farting as you pass other hikers (yeah, that happened).

Other behaviors might draw a condescending remark: pocketing souvenir rocks from the trail, smoking on the trail, or chucking your apple core into a river. Don’t do these things.

But if there is one thing that will get you a full-on dressing down, it’s recklessness around a waterfall.

Here are a few things not to do in or around a waterfall.

  1. Do not pretend you’re about to fall over the edge in order to get a funny photo. Because you might actually fall over the edge. It’s happened.
  2. Do not be too sure of your footing. Areas around a waterfall tend to be slippery, even if they look dry.
  3. Do not wade into a river upstream from a waterfall. This is a pretty common way to die in a national park. The current may look unthreatening and even appear completely still, but it’s lying to you. There is indeed a current, and it’s stronger than you are.
  4. Do not swim under a waterfall without the knowledge that you might get knocked out. That current I was talking about picks up rocks and takes them over the edge. You don’t want to be the lucky one that’s underneath one.
  5. Do not get water in any orifice. Don’t swim if you have any cuts on your body. Do not get water in your mouth or in your eyes. The water more than likely has bacteria, viruses, or parasites in it, and some of it could make you really sick, or dead.

All of this stuff really does happen. Locals see the stories on the news and share them on the message boards. You can do all these things and live to tell about it, sure. But it only takes one unlucky moment. I’d rather not risk it, myself. I’d rather live to see another waterfall. I’ve got a list to finish…

How To: Love Traveling Alone

Posted on by
6

A while back, our staff photographer gave us some wise advice on things to do while traveling alone. Like her, I’ve done plenty of traveling on my own, for various reasons that all boil down to, I had no one to go with, but I needed to go. I had a conversation earlier this week with a friend who’s considering taking a solo trip but was concerned about whether she’d have as much fun alone or whether it might be lonely. The answers to those concerns are, of course, maybe and maybe. But there are plenty of things to love about traveling alone.

1) You make your own schedule.

For me, this involves waking up many hours before most people would choose to roll out of bed on vacation, doing a lot of wandering with no particular destination in mind, and skipping a lot of the main “attractions” in any given town because I hate standing in long lines to see crowded places. For you, it’s probably something else entirely, but that’s just fine–because you’re going solo, and you don’t have to compromise one bit.

2) You make your own budget.

When traveling with other people, whether it’s a friend or a significant other or even family, you have to take different financial situations into account. Travel with someone wealthier than you (or with fewer problems with taking on loads of debt) and you might feel pressured into spending more than you want. Travel with someone who’s not as well off as you are and you might feel like you’re missing out or that you should pay for them to do things they wouldn’t otherwise be able to do. When you’re on your own, you know what you feel comfortable paying, what you want to splurge on, and where you want to go the cheap route.

3) It’s no pressure.

Traveling with another person puts a huge strain on your relationship with that person. Presumably, in your real life, you don’t spend twenty-four hours a day with him or her, even if it’s your significant other. Constant exposure to another person, especially in unfamiliar circumstances, and especially especially when things go wrong (you get lost, dinner was awful and overpriced, you have to wait in an eternal and chaotic mob to get through immigration) can take its toll. Sure, it might be a bonding experience and bring you together, but just as likely, you’ll have some tense moments, and you’ll look at the person sitting next to you on the plane home and wonder if you’ll ever talk again. (Don’t worry, I’m sure you will.) But when you’re by yourself, you don’t have to worry about those high-stress moments, because there’s no one for you to snipe at or to snipe at you.

4) You blend.

Well, you blend better, anyway. I hate being singled out as a tourist while I’m traveling. By not being part of a group of people, especially a group of people possibly speaking loudly in a foreign language and/or with a strange accent who seem confused about where they’re going, you instantly seem more like you belong wherever you are. Even if, by appearance, it’s obvious that you’re not a local, you’re less likely to draw attention to yourself as A Tourist when you’re on your own. And because you’re not trying to follow anyone else’s schedule, if you do get lost, you don’t have to immediately whip out a map and have an argument about it. You can just stroll along for a bit through the crowd, like you belong there. Because you do.

5) You seem completely awesome.

I’m a little surprised by this one, but it appears that people are really impressed with solo travelers. “Wow, you did that by yourself?” To me, this is a little patronizing–the sort of thing you usually say to a child. But it happens frequently. People who travel alone seem more daring than your average Joe–braver, more driven, less concerned with what the world thinks about them. I don’t know if that’s true, but I know that lots of people think it’s true, which is almost as good. I have photos of myself on top of Montserrat and in Aya Sofia because I decided I didn’t need to wait around for a friend or a dude or whoever to show up and help me go somewhere, but that I could just go. It’s not hard, but to the people around you who didn’t make that decision, it will seem a little like a superpower.

Later this week I’ll give you some tips on how, if you really want to, you can meet people on the road, in case the silence and/or loneliness starts to weigh on you.

What are your favorite perks of solo travel?