The Practiced Traveler

I know that travel tips have been done to death, but I can't resist sharing a few of my own. I promise things will get more interesting once I actually get there!

- When packing, dump all of your underwear and socks in one of those travel roll up space bags or an oversized Ziploc. Squeeze the air out and then you can cram this in your suitcase wherever it fits, because who cares if your underwear is wrinkled? Then, bring a second space/Ziploc bag to hold your dirty clothes as they accumulate. Again, this can be squeezed and crammed. A side benefit to this method is that your underwear won't spill out everywhere when the TSA opens your luggage to inspect it.

- It's kind of embarrassing to fumble around with foreign money, trying to distinguish the unfamiliar coins while you're holding up the gelato line. This time, I'm bringing a little double-wide change purse so I can separate the two- and one-euro coins from all the smaller denominations.

- Stuff a bunch of energy bars in your carry-on. That way, you're not beholden to the airline food cart. I actually stash a bunch in my suitcase too (or buy some when I get there) so I can carry a few around while sightseeing. As a solo traveler, I like to have the option of scarfing one of these instead of sitting down to a meal all by my lonesome.

- Speaking of that: for many, food and restaurant experiences are half (or more) of the fun of travel. I'm totally on board with that, but as a solo traveler, I'm plenty intimidated about having a fancy meal by myself in a fancy restaurant. After all, whose eyes am I going to gaze into from across the candlelit table? I tend to favor informal cafes, but even so, it's rather awkward to sit there alone, and there are only so many times you can read the brochure from that last museum you visited. The answer? Carry a small notebook and pen with you. Sitting at a cafe sipping your limonata or vino is the perfect time to jot down notes on what you've seen and what you want to remember. And if you're bent over your notebook, nobody can see the big L plastered across your forehead.

-Bring a small length of cable, looped at each end (you can make this yourself using items from the hardware store), and a padlock . Use this to lock your bag or backpack to something if need be (I once stayed in a hostel where the sleeping was dormitory style, so I secured my bag to the bed when I went out sightseeing).

- Better yet: don't stay at a hostel. OK, I take that back. My hostel experience was pretty dismal, but I understand that these days, many hostels are being re-vamped and can offer the solo or family traveler a great experience. But do your due diligence before committing to a hostel stay!

- Stow a toothbrush, pair of underwear and other essentials in your carry-on . Last time I traveled to Europe, my checked luggage and I did not arrive simultaneously. Although I was able to shower at my hotel, I had no clean clothes and believe me, it's no fun wearing the same clothes you've had on for 15 hours of airplane travel.

- If you're taking the train or other public transportation from town to town, go online ahead of time and get a clue about the schedules and how to buy tickets. Everybody at a train station is in a hurry and there isn't anybody around to hold your hand. Plus, if you look lost and discombobulated, you're an easier target for pickpockets and scammers.

- I was shocked to discover that the airlines do not give you any extra room for long distance flights. Really, it's inhuman. Unless you're lounging around in first class, there is little maneuvering space. Thus, cargo style pants are great for the airplane. They have lots of pockets to stash your passport, your Nano, your boarding pass, a little cash and an energy bar. That way, you don't have to keep rummaging around in your carry on.

- If you're a woman traveling alone and you're going to Great Britain and Ireland, the May / June time-frame is ideal. It stays light until ~10:00 pm, so you can go out to a pub or play and not feel too weird about walking back to your hotel.

This is not your country

One of the intriguing aspects of traveling to a different country is that everything seems novel. Scenes that you wouldn't think twice about in your own country, are somehow poignant and magical elsewhere. This idea is captured in a poem by Stephen Dunn I recently discovered.

The effect is magnified outside of the US, where thousands of years of history has become incorporated into modern life. Structures built before there was electricity now house businesses dependent on computers and satellites. And streets teeming with modern commerce are decorated with sculpture and architecture from a distant past. This photo collage shows just a few examples from prior travels.

La lingua italiana

I'm leaving for Rome in two weeks so today, I decided it would be prudent to learn Italian. Yes, I realize this is like starting a flossing routine on the day before going to the dentist; nobody will be fooled. But I should clarify that I'm not starting entirely from scratch. Before my last trip, I purchased the Rosetta Stone language learning software and I made a pretty decent go of working through the lessons. They did prove helpful and upon my return I vowed to continue, figuring that by now, I'd be prepared to engage in witty repartee with the locals while sipping my morning espresso. Sadly, my Rosetta Stone CDs are buried at the bottom of my 'to do' pile.

Nonetheless, I gamely downloaded “Fodor's Italian for Travelers,” and fired it up on my iPod during my morning run. Things started out easily enough with simple words and phrases I actually remembered from before. But the lesson quickly moved into phrases that conjure up travel scenarios I'd prefer not to contemplate. These include “my room key doesn't work,” “please return my passport” and “where is the lost luggage counter?” (This last contains a word that sounds suspiciously like 'jettison'). What's worse, these phrases seem unduly complicated. So, I'm skipping over them on the theory that if I don't know them, I won't need them. Besides, even if I master them now, I'm pretty sure they would be obliterated by my rising panic over being locked out of my room with no clothes and no identification.

Thankfully, other critical phrases are straightforward, such as “Where is an ATM?" (Dove e un bancomat?) and “I would like ice cream” (Vorrei gelato). And I've worked this one out all on my own: Vorrei il vino rosso per favore. Salut!

Ciao Meow

Italy is known for the sophistication of its fashion and food, but nothing is more discriminating than the Italian feline. On my last trip, I encountered them everywhere, claiming their rightful place among tourists and locals alike. Though some were homeless, none were wanting, being well tended by shopkeepers, trattorias and one kindly old man. Click here to see i gatti.

Shoes Blues

When I travel I do a ton of walking. I typically find lodging in the city center, and walk from sight to sight as much as I reasonably can. This comes from my stubborn need to feel independent, as well as to avoid the humiliation of fumbling through an unfamiliar transportation system. But walking is also the best way to get a real flavor for the varying neighborhoods in a city and, of course, provides plenty of exercise while I'm off my regular running routine.

This means footwear is a big deal and sure enough, having a good shoe strategy is high on my packing priority list. Thus, I was tickled to see a recent article by the New York Times frugal traveler on just this topic

Alas, while reading his otherwise sensible article, I noted that Mr. Gross missed the female perspective here, by give short shrift to the cute factor. Any shoe that meets his criteria of being rugged, waterproof and good for running, will surely fall short of one of mine which is: girly enough to go with my cute dinner dress.

Sadly, my own shoe strategy also falls short. On trips past, I have mainly worn clodhopper sandals with good arch support; shoes that can most kindly be described as 'serviceable.' Last time, I uselessly toted around a pair of cute slip-on sandals that nearly amputated my baby toes on the one occasion I hobbled to dinner wearing them.

This time, my plan is to bring one pair semi-clodhopper sandals, one pair full-foot flats and, because I am psychologically unable to part with them, my running shoes.

Yes, I know, three pairs of shoes is ridiculous. But I rationalize by saying I'll be wearing one of them, so that means I'm only packing two pairs, right? And besides, as most any woman will tell you, it is impossible for the female traveler to go on a trip of any length with only one pair of shoes.

Blah blah blog

Ok, this blogging thing is a bit tougher than I expected. After all, it's one thing to blast an email out to your buddies full of blurbs about your daily trials and triumphs. Your friends care, or at least pretend to, and even a brief you go girl reply completes a comforting circuit of validation.


But it's quite another thing to lay your words out there for any passer by to see. In fact, it's kind of creepy to think of unknown, lurking eyes with nary an LOL to tip you off to their presence. Blogging, it turns out, amounts to a kind of self-imposed stalking.


Also, what seemed before to be fleeting, now takes on a perverse permanence. Your posts become fixed in some mysterious binary-pixelated continuum, perhaps to be electronically excavated and puzzled over years from now.


Thus, I proceed with apprehension, wondering if those lurking eyes are rolling skyward.