Owltastic During the two year period that Jason and I lived in Salem, we travelled to London, Paris, Cancun, Belfast, Edinburgh, London again, Oslo, Amsterdam, and Vancouver. We also made frequent small trips around New England, and down to New York, DC, and Florida.
For the most part, the adventures of 2009 and 2010 were not planned. I was fortunate enough to speak at a flurry of conferences; this enabled me to visit beautiful places I never dreamed I’d see. Jason was hired to film a bit for the cast of the Real World (which, considering Jason’s propensity for sunblock and sobriety, is hilarious); this brought us to Cancun. We visited friends up and down the east coast, and took our Buick LeSabre on weekend getaways whenever the mood struck us.
Since moving to New York last year, we’ve given up our car, so weekend trips are less convenient. I stopped contributing in a meaningful way to the web design community (something I hope to correct), so I’ve been invited to speak at fewer conferences (at least I think that’s the reason? Probably there are other ones too, like my breathless delivery and lack of speaking skills). Jason no longer does videography work, and his new career in iOS development involves few travel opportunities. These factors, and others, have resulted in a much more grounded existence.
At first I hardly missed all the traveling; moving to New York was adventure enough. Living here means you can experience much of the thrill, danger, and expense of travel without ever leaving the city. I’ve paid too much for mediocre food because I was confused, visited shops where English wasn’t understood, experienced culture shock and discovery and exhaustion. Now that I can navigate the city better, have a few good friends, and am on a first name basis with a couple baristas, it feels less dramatic and more like home. Which is wonderful; except that I’ve been desperate to travel again.
Last month I began researching potential destinations. I asked Twitter for suggestions, and was presented with an array of fabulous getaway spots. Iceland, Italy, Switzerland, Sweden, Vietnam; I wanted to go everywhere. I began researching flights, hotels, activities, rail passes for Europe, the wardrobe I would need, and the best brand of walking shoes. Five hours later when I emerged from the shame pit of online suitcase shopping, I decided to give up on organizing a trip; it’s too much work to relax.
During this marathon bout of travel planning, I began to think about all the hard parts of taking trips — all the terrible moments of stress, helplessness, and exhaustion. Here’s a small sampling of horror stories from our time spent abroad:
- In Amsterdam our luggage was lost, so we spent most of our money buying a new wardrobe. (I mean, I couldn’t attend a conference in my airplane sweatpants!) This, combined with an over-indulgence in amazing food, meant that by the end of the trip we were utterly broke. It wasn’t a big deal, since we had checks in the mailbox at home. Except we missed our flight home due to a fire on the train. With no money and no place to stay, we spent a miserable day wandering the airport like the exhausted and broke tourists that we were. We eventually checked in to the airport hotel using my Grandma’s “borrowed” credit card (sorry Grandma! We did pay her back when we got home). Also, PRO TIP: It’s good to, you know, have a credit card when you travel.
- On our Paris excursion (for reasons I’ll never understand), I was obsessed with seeing the Mona Lisa. I had a fit when we arrived at the Louvre too late in the day, and couldn’t have the perfect museum visit I’d envisioned. By the way, we did get to see the Mona Lisa, but we had to sprint through the museum, and it was blocked by a massive crowd of people. Also, it is really small, kept behind glass and ropes, and I felt incredibly foolish for sacrificing my sanity just to see it.
- Before the Vancouver trip I stayed up for days, taking caffeine pills and Keynote-ing like a crazy person in an attempt to make THE PERFECT WORKSHOP for Interlink. On the flight over I had a nervous breakdown because my seat-mate was constantly elbowing me, and Jason had to talk me down from a sobbing fit. Once we arrived, I developed a crippling flu, and barely made it through the presentation I’d worked so hard on.
- There was the horrible sea sickness on the ferry from Belfast. The bed-bug and mold palace in London. The endless exhaustion of getting lost, walking for miles, and cursing my dependence on GPS. Sidenote: I no longer know how to read a real map. Thanks, technology!
In spite of all these nightmarish memories, I know the benefits of exploration will always outweigh the negatives. Travel offers a a renewed gusto for life, and a respect for other cultures. It also encourages us to savor the moment, rather than coast through the monotony of routine. I could write another 1000 words about all the beauty I’ve seen, the beliefs I’ve gained, and the invaluable moments of joy experienced while away from home.
But instead, I’ve chosen to write about the bad times, because these are the stories that make me laugh. I know I was miserable while these difficult events unfolded, but now I’m glad for all the misery. The irrational tantrums, physical exhaustion, and rotten luck tested Jason and I’s resourcefulness, and our resilience as a couple. While away I’ve experienced the best and worst of myself, and these extremes are where our character is built. I’d do it all again. (Well, maybe not the Mona Lisa).
So even as I recall our horror stores, I’m still desperate to take a trip. I want to experience a new place, and all that it entails. I’ve been spending too much time browsing travel blogs, daydreaming about what glamorous things might happen to me while away from home.
When Misty got sick I realized we won’t be going anywhere for the foreseeable future. As shamefully selfish as this is, I was disappointed when it registered that nursing her would mean spending every possible minute by her side. We’re afraid to leave her alone for even a few hours, in case anything should happen to her. I thought I might go insane spending all my time at home, watching her sleep, measuring her poop for consistency, and counting out pills.
Instead, I’m gradually learning to appreciate this settled state. I’m catching up on my reading. I’m finishing side projects. And I swear I’m going to practice guitar and cook more too. My day now revolves around morning coffee with Jason, lounging with the cat, and quietly working at my desk. It’s not glamorous, but it is fulfilling, and I’m learning to appreciate it.
I stumbled across this quote the other day, and I think it sums up the lesson I’m learning about wanderlust:
“For most of life, nothing wonderful happens. If you don’t enjoy getting up and working and finishing your work and sitting down to a meal with family or friends, then the chances are that you’re not going to be very happy. If someone bases his happiness or unhappiness on major events like a great new job, huge amounts of money, a flawlessly happy marriage or a trip to Paris, that person isn’t going to be happy much of the time. If, on the other hand, happiness depends on a good breakfast, flowers in the yard, a drink or a nap, then we are more likely to live with quite a bit of happiness.”
The quote is by Andy Rooney, who Jason reminded me was unfortunately a sometimes bigot, but I still like the sentiment.
As much as I crave the extremes that come with going away, I’m learning to see the joy in staying.
Sidenote: I’m anticipating some snark about first world problems and humble-bragging. So save your breath, anonymous-internet-commenter-I’m-preemptively-annoyed-with, because yeah I know.
21 Comments
Meagan, I’m saying this with all gentleness: euthanize the cat. “Spending every possible minute by her side” is noble for a daughter, mother or sister. For a pet, it’s nutty.
Glad you got to see so much of the world.
Hey John,
I hear you, I know what you’re saying. If I had a friend in a similar situation, I might even think the same thing. It probably is “nutty,” but it’s the only way I know how to handle it. We will euthanize her when we have to, but for now her quality of life is good enough that we don’t want to. And as I said, spending so much time at home has actually been good for me.
Thanks for reading.
Cool. The fact that you didn’t fly off the handle at that has restored my faith in your sanity.
When I visited France in 2005, I was with a tour with my high school classmates (I was a senior at the time). We filled two of those big coach buses. On the way back to Paris from the Loire Valley (where all the gorgeous chateaus are!) the bus I was on BROKE DOWN on the high way… we had to get off the bus and walk, a group of ~30 high school girls w/ some chaperones, to the nearest exit and then wait for the bus to be towed to a mechanic and for the tour company to send us a new, working bus. We ended up eating dinner at a French trucker diner, which was wild. They have wine on tap, no joke! And they kept saying nasty things about us in French thinking we didn’t understand (a few of us actually paid attention in French class, though). I love telling this story now, even though at the time it was such a nuisance/downer.
Enjoy the time at home. I have been doing things the other way round. I was only 22 when my daughter was born and I’ve never felt happy about travelling far away from her. However she is now almost 15 and has been to France and Portgual herself, so I feel happier about spreading my wings. So this year I’ve said yes to conferences from outside the UK – and will get to travel a bit and see new places, meet people I only know online.
Those of us who get to make these choices are fortunate. There is nothing wrong with doing what you feel is right for you.
By the way, I’ve never been to see the Mona Lisa but my daughter did when she went to Paris with school. I got an SMS message from her, “Sat next to the Mona Lisa. It’s TINY”.
Hey Meagan,
Horror stories happen. Here’s a tip, all the planning in the world usually won’t help travel disasters that happen because they’re out of your control anyway. And frankly the more you travel, the more it happens, be it flight cancellations, strikes, volcano ash or whatever. Eventually you do get the hang of it and just roll with the punches.
Nevertheless planning is stressful if you’ve never been somewhere before. If you ever want to come to southern Germany, I’d love to invite you to do join other designers and devs for a @refreshmunich dinner and drinks, relaxed, nothing with slides etc. and we’d be happy to help you organize a nice time in Bavarian or Austrian Alps. Not just because you’re you, but also you’re kind of a Bostonian and that’s still a connection to my old “home” for me.
Greetings from Munich,
Juie
Hi Meagan! I feel the same way. I used to travel quite a bit before I settled in NJ. I’m itching to go somewhere, anywhere. Loved to hear your travel anecdotes, I have one for you: A few years ago I was lucky enough to live in Italy and one weekend, my friend and I decided to go to Rome for the weekend. We took the train in Florence and arrived in Rome around 10 am. The plan was to sight-see during the day and then stay at this hostel near the Vatican; that way we would wake up, see the Vatican and then go back to Florence. Well, that weekend, there was a arts festival called Notte Bianca and we could’t find a hostel or a hotel. The city was packed. You couldn’t even walk on the streets. We ended up staying up all night; instead of spending money on a hotel, we had dinner at a wonderful restaurant near the Pantheon, drank wine as if it was water, meet some wonderful strangers, saw acrobats, art, and music concerts. Almost at dawn, I was too tired and took a nap outside the Vatican (I slept on the streets! I felt like such a bad ass.) and had the best cappuccino of my life,too. All in a 8 hour span!
The Vatican was closed that day, anyway, and we couldn’t see the da Vinci’s frescoes at the Sistine Chapel. Perfect excuse to go back, I guess.
Jee, must be nice.
“So, like, I totally traveled to about 900 countries in two years, something most feast-or-famine freelancers [read: most] will never do. I’m, like, totally not a millionaire, though. It was for speaking gigs. ‘Cause, like, I’m totally the most qualified expert to get those gigs. Right? I’ve been doing this for 20…er..a couple years. My website totally shrinks on phones. Anyway, I had some probs, though. Must write super long stealth-brag article, then cloak it in witty banter and ostensible woes to make it quirky and more humble.”
Cool story bro. I’d be offended, but you sound like someone I’d be friends with.
Don’t worry Meagan. I still love you (‘re writing style)
HAHA! What a jerk. Trolls will be trolls. ;P
Well Meagan, keep your chin up and listen to Owl City. Seriously, you’ll feel alive, happy, and in a world that really exists beyond the lonely boxes that hold us. It’s only the people inside those boxes that make the house-box a joy to live in. =)
Keep it up, friend. We’re all here for you, and God bless!
Being a successful young woman who shares her sentiments, you are opening yourself up to this kind of troll. What the troll doesn’t understand is that opportunities open up to people who not only work hard, but who are kind. No one wants to work with an asshole.
Thank you and give Misty a hug (you are doing the right thing).
Except… Meagan actually is the most qualified expert to get those gigs. Funny though.
If you say so. She’s been making simple-as-dirt websites for seven years. That sounds like every web developer on the whole planet. I suppose that corroborates your assessment, though. Hell, that sounds like an honorary Ph.D. to me!
Side note: “Cool story, bro.” See how I used a comma, Ms. Expert?
Good to see your name is truly the epitome of excellent grammar.
Amazing how horrible people can be, I feel truly sorry for the amount of negativity you harbor.
Meghan, the work I’ve seen is lovely. Of course you know voicing your thoughts to the masses invites uncouth folk. However, there’s solace in knowing they are the uncouth and you are not.
Chin up.
Ugh, I’m so sorry you have to deal with such horrible negativity. I can only think it comes from jealousy. Without being all “fangirl” on you, you’re a big inspiration to me, and I’ve watched your talks online and thought they were wonderful and very helpful.
Anyway, really like the sentiment of this post, and the quote you included. It’s very important to be happy with the simplest of things like your daily routine and time with a loved one. Travelling is great but I feel the same as you that it can be stressful. I think it’s honourable you want to stay by Misty’s side. Thanks for sharing this
“The quote is by Andy Rooney, who Jason reminded me was unfortunately a sometimes bigot, but I still like the sentiment.”
In my opinion, it’s ridiculous to make a comment like this. We all struggle with parts of our character that we do not like – it does not make us a bad person, or someone who cannot contribute positively to the world around us.
I don’t agree at all that a cat is ‘just a pet’. For those who cherish them, a cat is like a child and the only thing we can do in bad times is to be there for them. And when the time comes when we have to make that hard decision our hearts break and nothing will be the same.
I too am a freelancer that works from home and has cats. Unfortunately I did have this same experience and it’s really hard.
I hope you can find a way to go through it the best you can without any regrets. It puts things in perspective, about live, our suffering and the suffering of those we love, about hope and what things are important in life.
If this were a radio show, I’d say “Long time listener, first time caller.” As a fellow female web designer, I always love finding and following women in the industry that do amazing work and contribute to the field (like yourself!) — love your work and your cat!
That being said, I enjoyed this article because travel horror stories, at the end of the day, are the best. On a long Europe trip with my now-husband and our 2 friends, we went to Belgium on a whim. We thought, “We don’t need a hotel in Brussels…we’ll figure it out later.” Well, we couldn’t find a hotel for the one night we were there and ended up trying to sleep in this big beautiful park. Only once 2am hit, the park came to life with prostitutes and drug addicts stirring in the bushes, igniting lighters. This scared the crap out of us and we ended up walking the streets all night. Kind of miserable at the time, but one of my favorite memories now because we got to see the sun rise and the city come to life in the morning.
And sorry about the Mona Lisa, she is rather underwhelming.
This is a really nice post and really puts things in perspective. I feel the same in a lot of ways. I’ve traveled some and the most important thing I’ve learned is that nothing ever goes as planned. To me, that’s a scary feeling because I like things to be well planned but I’ve embraced the fact that it’s part of the experience of traveling. It’s funny though, as humans, we’re so curious of the unknown. Sometimes we feel that knowing the unknown can make us happy. Really though, it’s the little things and being content with what we have that can make us truly happy. Thanks so much for sharing this