Traveling Girl With a Glass

Good morning, friends, and Happy Easter, Passover, and April Fool’s Day. Seems like everything is happening at once this weekend.

And yet over here in my little room in Cabo, drinking coffee in bed and writing, absolutely nothing is happening.

I wrote to some friends this morning that I had nothing to put on my blog because all I’ve done on this trip is sit in the sun and read. So my accomplishments thus far include getting sunburned and finishing two books. No adventures, no sights seen, no Sting encounters.

Which is the point, isn’t it? We need time like this, be it at home, on a beach, in a cabin in the mountains…. time to just let the nervous system unspool a little. And the longer you wait, the harder it is to do….your mind is filled with shoulds….I should go for a run before breakfast….I really should check email one more time…..maybe call the office.

And I’m here by myself. When we’re with others, we create more shoulds for them as well….he really should put on more sunscreen…. should she really fall asleep like that in the sun? And on. And on. What’s the point of having time to relax if you spend the whole time thinking you and everyone else should be doing things that are not, in fact, relaxing?

Don’t look at me like that. You know I’m right. We all do it.

This next part will seem like a non-sequitur, but stick with me for a minute, it ties back in:

In case you thought I actually hadn’t been anywhere since December…

I haven’t written about my experience in February at the Hoffman Process, a week-long personal development retreat in California, primarily because it defies written explanation. It was painful and joyful and excruciating and enlightening and maybe the most important thing I’ve ever done. I’ve started and then deleted several posts about it.

What I can explain, though, I’ve discovered this morning, is how my perspective has changed. How I’ve been able to let go of things that don’t serve me (and probably drive other people nuts too).

Among other things, the shoulds are softer. They’re a whisper compared to the loud, insistent, needling creatures they used to be. They’re followed by question marks. Should I run before breakfast? Nah. I ran yesterday. I’ll give that sore hamstring a break. More time to read. (As you may have gathered, dear readers, I’m not the most relaxed person you know, so learning how to relax was huge for me, and I suspect a challenge for most over-scheduled, over-worked Americans. We’re hard on everybody else because we’re hard on ourselves.)

I’m curious about, rather than judgmental of, the people around me….I wonder what their stories are. Even the loud guy at the pool yesterday, who two months ago might have gotten under my skin so badly I would have left and found someplace else to sit. Not much annoys me. It took me a day to downshift into this vacation and actually chill out, but hey, it used to take me three days on a trip like this. Three days just to unwind and quit looking at my damn phone every ten minutes. And then it would be time to go home. Sound familiar?

I’m grateful to have these few days of reading, writing, and soaking up sunshine. Extra grateful that I get to do it in such a gorgeous locale. I’m a lucky girl.

And there’s nothing I should be doing.

What can you let go of that isn’t serving you? Wishing you a day full of relaxation, connection with those you love, and free of shoulds.

Cheers!

Traveling Girl

Ordinarily I would tell you all about my run in Central Park yesterday morning, or the nice walk around the upper east side and how charmingly grand-parenty I think that neighborhood is, or the great late lunch I was fortunate enough to squeeze in at the infamous Spotted Pig in the West Village….but seriously, given the highlight of the night, who cares. Just so you know, I do sometimes worry that all my stories are not as interesting to other people as they are in my little head, but this morning I’m not worried.

Because as I was sitting and waiting for the Chris Botti show at the Blue Note to start, a little uncomfortable being alone, chatting with the random and very nice people I ended up sitting with, thinking to myself “who are the slackers that reserved that table right there and are about to miss the show?”, Sting and Trudie Styler and their (I’m assuming) bodyguard walked in and sat down about 5 feet from me.

I am a huge Sting fan, for the record.

Here’s the photo from Chris Botti’s Instagram this morning. You can see Sting on the right. I’m just off the frame behind him, about to pass out from excitement:

Only in New York.

I’ve seen Chris Botti perform probably five or six times, and the show honestly doesn’t change much, but I don’t care. I just love his music, his band, the energy….it’s always a great show. And he’s a musician’s musician – other artists clearly respect and love him, and he often has special guests at his shows. I’ve seen him with Josh Bell, and last time I was at the Blue Note, about five years ago, John Mayer sat in.

But STING? Come on.

It was a struggle to just get lost in the performance the way I like to, because I kept watching Sting and Trudie like some teenage fangirl….what do they drink? (tequila)…are the other people at the table with them or were they just randomly sat there? (random, and freaking out)…. is Sting as hot close up? (yes)

But soon enough the music was in full swing, the band commanding everyone’s attention, and before I knew it the show was almost over and there they sat, just watching along with us. Was he really not going to sing? I mean, I guess he should be able to go see music just like the rest of us and not be expected to perform, but….really?

It was 9:50 and the next show started at 10, so it wasn’t looking good.

Then Chris turned to him and said “I know this is an ambush, but would you sing one for us?”

YES!

Apparently I don’t have the right setup to upload video to these posts, so my description will just have to do. He got up onstage and first talked for a minute about how proud he was of Chris (Chris was Sting’s trumpet player for many years), and how Chris had discovered the secret of a great team: hire the absolute best people you can find and then give them room to shine. Amen, brother.

Then he brought down the house with “Every Breath You Take”. The Blue Note is a tiny venue, and everyone was standing and singing along…what an incredible experience. Even the Turkish family I was sitting with knew every word.

We all walked out into the cold New York night sort of stunned. Did that really just happen?

I’m off to NC today to visit with family… may your holidays be merry and bright and full of unexpected experiences. Be open to them – be willing to go places by yourself, talk to people you don’t know, and be uncomfortable sometimes. You never know when Sting might show up.

Cheers!

Traveling Girl

College friends, rather. Banishing the word old. Especially after we managed to stay up past midnight on a Tuesday night (!). I was pretty proud of us for that.

My holiday trip kicked off in Chicago, where I met up with two friends from Wake, one of whom lives in the city and was our fabulous host. I hadn’t been to Chicago in about ten years, and I had forgotten how much I love it. The city is such a great combination of gorgeous architecture, great restaurants, and a vibrant arts scene. And so delightfully walkable, even if it was cold as holy hell.

There’s something so comforting for me about being with women that I’ve known a really long time…there’s a shorthand to all your interactions because you know each other so well. You remove a whole layer of explanations and “is this ok with you” conversations because you already mostly know what is and isn’t ok, and you don’t feel the need to explain yourself. It’s a different and lovely and precious kind of relaxation.

We started off on Tuesday walking Michigan Avenue and meeting for dinner at the Siena Tavern on Kinzie Street, which I would wholeheartedly recommend if you’re ever in the area. Walking home, we veered into the very charming Bavette – their downstairs bar might be the coziest place I’ve ever been on a winter night, and we ended up chatting with a group of people and having so much fun that we were honestly shocked when the bartender said it was last call. What?? I haven’t been at a bar for last call on a Tuesday since, well….let’s just say a really long time.

Wednesday morning, my friend and I walked along the river out to the lake, braving the cold and wind, but it was worth it – a gorgeous walk, and it turns out bracing cold wind does a damn good job of zapping the lingering effects of a late night out.

Later in the day we met up for a late lunch at 3 Arts Cafe, inside the Restoration Hardware store in the Gold Coast neighborhood….really great (of course) decor, and they’ve managed to make a huge atrium space feel warm and festive, due in no small part to this stunningly huge chandelier:

And then the main event.

Hamilton.

It ABSOLUTELY lives up to the hype. It is creative, smart, and wildly entertaining. The music, of course, is outstanding, but what surprised me more was the super creative and very detailed choreography. One of my friends that I was with and I are both former dancers, and we were so impressed….the choreography helps tell the story in a way I’ve never quite seen before in a musical. Trust me. Go see it.

My friend and I had an interesting conversation at intermission about shared experiences. Brené Brown, in her new book Braving the Wilderness, talks about the societal importance of shared experiences. Sporting events, theater, dance, art – they bring us together in way nothing else does. It’s so important and so inspiring, and I totally forget how a masterful performance makes me feel until I have the pleasure of seeing one again and then…..ah……yes, I should do this more often. A bunch of us used to have season tickets to the theater and the ballet in Denver… why don’t we do that anymore? Maybe that will be my New Year’s resolution.

I reluctantly left Chicago this morning and I’m sitting now at the bar at my hotel in New York, a small Relais & Chateaux property called The Surrey on the upper east side. Lovely so far. Gotta love a hotel bar with 1er cru white burgundy by the glass. Hi honey, I’m home!

I’m one block from Central Park, so I’m looking forward to a run there tomorrow morning. Meeting a friend who used to live in Denver out for dinner tonight at Polo Bar, Ralph Lauren’s new restaurant. Supposed to be quite the scene. I’ll let you know…..

Cheers!

Traveling Girl

I can’t believe I forgot to include this in the previous post! Take two minutes and watch this video from KLM airlines. What a treat. It absolutely makes me want to fly that airline and leave something on the plane:

KLM airline’s valuable employee

Cheers!

Traveling Girl

Relax. Traveling Girl has not turned into Scrooge. I did not say abandon ye all holiday cheer, I just said give yourself a break for ten minutes.

There’s so much pressure this time of year to be merry and bright and cheerful everysingledamnminute that it can get a little overwhelming. And you think if there’s a crack in your holiday veneer, not only will everyone see, but the whole kaboodle will break and you won’t be able to salvage even a thread of happy tinsel. It’ll all be over, holidays ruined.

But here’s the thing, and this is just between us: it’s not true. You can, in fact, not be all holiday sparkles and lights for a few minutes. Not only will no one notice (unless you go full on Grinch, let’s not do that, now), but your merry will actually come back stronger. Trust me on this.

Vent, yell, have a good cry, meditate, take a nap. Whatever. We’ll all still be over here shopping and prepping and planning when you’re done, and you’ll feel better. I’ve always found it liberating when I get reminders that I’m just not all that important. And I mean that in a good way – like when you go on vacation, convinced that the world may end or the office may burn down while you’re out, and you return to things exactly as you left them. No tragedy. No drama. Because, contrary to our (read: my) sometimes egomaniacal beliefs, the world and everyone in it functions just fine without our interference. So if we abdicate our devotion to holiday cheer for ten minutes and take a little time for ourselves, everyone will be ok. I promise.

If you’re really in need of a pick me up and you have two hours instead of ten minutes, I am begging you, please watch Hector and the Search For Happiness. My brother and his wife found this gem a few years back and it is SUCH a treat. The main character, Hector, in keeping with the normal theme of this blog, travels far and wide. I can’t vouch for the accurate portrayal of his adventures as I’ve never been to any of the spots he visits, but that’s not really the point. It’s a funny, happy little movie that is guaranteed to lift flagging holiday spirits. I don’t have children, but based on language, etc, I’d say it’s appropriate for teens, just not really little kids. You can find it on iTunes for sure, maybe Netflix too, and download it for your holiday travel.

While you’re taking my advice and giving the tinsel and holly routine a rest, here is precisely ten minutes of useful stuff to peruse:

First, This great article from Afar magazine on keeping your airline status next year.

Second, as some of you know, I am a Tim Ferriss fan – the below is cut and pasted from an excerpt of his new book. The manager of my office actually sent this out in his morning notes this week. Timely, given how busy we all are and the upcoming inevitable inventory of how we’ve spent our time and how we’ll spend it next year:

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5 Simple Strategies For Getting Immediate Clarity and Saying “No”

Saying yes is easy. Saying no is hard.

by Tim Ferriss

Once you reach a decent level of professional success, lack of opportunity won’t kill you. It’s drowning in 7-out-of-10 “cool” commitments that will sink the ship.

I knew that successful people had a habit of saying “no,” but I didn’t understand how or why. I needed help understanding the mechanics of saying “no” and reaping the benefits, so I asked hundreds of brilliant people: In the last five years, what have you become better at saying no to (distractions, invitations, etc.)? What new realizations and/or approaches helped? Any other tips?

The answers I got to those questions formed part of what became my next book, Tribe of Mentors. Here are a few of my favorite responses:

Strategy #1: Take the Epitaph and Deathbed Tests

Tim Urban, one of the world’s top bloggers, has a strategy for saying “No” he calls the Epitaph and Deathbed test.

Here’s how it works:

“I think about what I might call the Epitaph Test. When I find myself with an opportunity, I ask myself whether I’d be happy if my epitaph had something to do with this project. If the answer is a clear no, it probably means it’s not actually very important to me. Thinking about your epitaph, as morbid as it is, is a nice way to cut through all the noise and force yourself to look at your work from a super zoomed-out perspective, where you can see what really matters to you. So I try to make my “yes” list by thinking about the Epitaph Test, and potential time commitments outside of that definition fall on my “no” list. For me, the Epitaph Test is usually a reminder to focus my time and effort on doing the highest-quality and most original creative work I can.”

For my social life “yes” list, a similar test could be called the Deathbed Test. We all hear about these studies where people on their deathbed reflect on what they regret most, and the cliché is that nobody ever says they regret spending more time in the office. That’s because a deathbed offers people a level of zoomed-out clarity that’s hard to get to in our normal lives, and it’s only when we’re lacking that clarity in the fog of our day-to-day rush that we’d think it makes sense to neglect our most important personal relationships. The Deathbed Test pushes me to do two things:

1.    Make sure I’m dedicating my time to the right people with the question, “Is this someone I might be thinking about when I’m on my deathbed?”

2.    Make sure I’m spending enough high-quality time with the people I care about most with the question, “If I were on my deathbed today, would I be happy with the amount of time I spent with this person?” An alternative is thinking about other people’s deathbeds — “If X person were on their deathbed today, how would I feel about the amount of quality time I’ve spent with them?”

Strategy #2: Run the decision by imaginary great-grandchildren

Terry Crews, actor and former NFL player, has a useful strategy for saying “no.” Similar to Stephen Covey’s imaginary 80th birthday exercise, Crews has an imaginary conversion with his great-grandchildren.

According to Crews:

“One approach I use is imaginary great-grandchildren. I talk to them all the time. I ask them about decisions and relationships and whether or not to continue them. They tend to speak loud and clear. “Grandpa, you shouldn’t do this, or you need to leave these people alone because we will be affected negatively, or worse, we won’t exist.” Those moments show me that this whole thing is bigger than me. It’s the realization that there is a “will to pleasure,” a “will to power” and, in the words of Viktor Frankl, a “will to meaning.” You won’t take a bullet for pleasure or power, but you will for meaning. So you sometimes have to do what I call a “crowd-thinner.” One wrong person in your circle can destroy your whole future. It’s that important.”

Strategy #3: Become aware of your emotional expression

Sharon Salzberg, co-founder of the Insight Meditation Society and New York Times bestselling author summons the courage to say “no” by becoming aware of her emotional expression.

Specifically, Salzberg does the following:

“I’ve gotten better at saying no to invitations, though I still have a ways to go! I picked up this tip from a friend, who felt she could hardly ever say no when she really needed to. In her meditation, she consciously brought up situations where she might have better said no, and she looked at what was happening in her body as she replayed the questioning. She tuned into the sensations spiraling through her stomach up into her chest, restricting her breathing. It was almost a kind of panic, a visceral expression of “maybe they won’t like me anymore.” She learned the feeling of those sensations, and the next time she was at work, or with her family, and that very kind of question was asked and she felt those sensations beginning, she used that as her feedback to say, “I’ll have to get back to you on that.” With a little space, she could then say no. Awareness of the emotional expression in her body was key. I’m trying to follow in her footsteps.”

Strategy #4: Clarify your long-term goals

Samin Nosrat, the well-recognized and world-class chef, has a very simple way of getting to “no.”

Specifically, Nosrat does the following:

“The more clear I am about what my goals are, the more easily I can say no. I have a notebook into which I’ve recorded all sorts of goals, both big and small, over the last ten or so years. When I take the time to articulate what it is that I hope to achieve, it’s simple to refer to the list and see whether saying yes to an opportunity will take me toward or away from achieving that goal. It’s when I’m fuzzy about where I’m headed that I start to say yes to things willy-nilly.”

Strategy #5: What would a security firm do?

Steven Pressfield is the best-selling author, gets himself to “no” by asking himself the corky yet insightful question:

“I got a chance a couple of years ago to visit a security firm, one of those places that guard celebrities and protect their privacy — in other words, a business whose total job was to say no. The person who was giving me the tour told me that the business screens every incoming letter, solicitation, email, etc., and decides which ones get through to the client. “How many get through?” I asked.

“Virtually none,” my friend said. I decided that I would look at incoming mail the same way that firm does. If I were the security professional tasked with protecting me from bogus, sociopathic, and clueless asks, which ones would I screen and dump into the trash? That has helped a lot.”

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How will you say yes to more important things and no to things that don’t fit with your long term goals and values and how you want to spend your time next year?

That’s it from me for now. I’m off on a trip next week, though, so stay tuned. Heading to Chicago with two friends to see Hamilton, then to NYC for two nights, then on to NC to see the family. I suspect there will be wine involved.

Cheers!

Traveling Girl

Let me start by saying I want a new word. Staycation is awkward. Surely there is a sophisticated French term for “my family lives across the country and I am not quite masochistic enough to want to brave DIA at Thanksgiving”?

So, I was thinking on my run this morning about how hard the holidays are for so many people, and the older we get, the more this is true. Maybe you lost someone this year whose absence is all the more painful when this season rolls around. Maybe you’re single and wish you weren’t (even if we are loathe to admit it, the holidays sure make us feel lonelier for not having someone to curl up by the fire with). Or maybe you’re in a relationship that strains the boundaries of how much potential chaos one human is capable of managing. Or maybe you’re in the middle of a divorce and suddenly the next 40 holidays are not going to look the way you thought they’d look. Or maybe your kids are heading to college soon and you know you’re at a turning point, and rather than speeding through the holidays to get them over with, you wish you could freeze time indefinitely right here.

There’s a flip side to everything, of course, I’ll get to that in a minute. Don’t worry, this is not a downer post.

What occurs to me is we’re all in this together. It’s hard for everyone in different ways. And it’s wonderful for everyone in different ways. We don’t have any way of knowing what’s really going on in someone else’s life, so everyone deserves our compassion and love and as much grace as we can muster up. Even my cranky neighbor with the Trump signs in his yard (seriously. still.) I find myself making up stories about him in order to be compassionate, which is silly but it works. (My current iteration is that maybe his dog is sick and he’s just consumed with worry. He’s not really an unfriendly, weird, rude guy. He’s just worried about Fido.)

Today I have good friends to eat with, solitude this morning to run and to write, and a gorgeous blue sky Denver day to enjoy. That’s a lot to work with, and more than 99% of the world has, right? It doesn’t change the tinge of wistfulness at not having someone to curl up by the fire with, but both can be true. One does not negate the other. We all have happiness and sadness around the holidays. Joy can sit down and have a glass of wine with sorrow. Both are true.

I frankly don’t mind being reminded once a year to be especially grateful – I can use the reminder. I’ve read a lot lately about how we should be grateful every day, not just on Thanksgiving. Yes, yes, of course. Very true. But I still love the one day a year that we honor gratitude and its importance. I’m always grateful when I get to travel, but I’m also grateful for the option not to travel. To stay home and rest and eat and be thankful for whomever I’m lucky enough to see and spend time with today. And listen, it’s not all emotion and reflection over here. I’m also really really grateful for turkey, wine, and the little bundt cakes that I am bringing to dinner. They are sitting on my kitchen counter just bursting with happiness and joy. And begging me to eat them rightthisveryminute. Which I will resist….

Maybe.

I read a lot when I have time like this, and I get asked a lot for reading recommendations, so here are a few timely ones: Ryan Holiday’s post on being thankful, Brené Brown’s new book, “Braving the Wilderness”, and Oprah’s new book, “The Wisdom of Sundays”. I do love me some Oprah at the holidays. And an old favorite that I try to reread every holiday season is “A Return to Love”, by Marianne Williamson.

So whatever it is that is going on in your life this holiday season, good or bad, embrace it. It’s part of the process. Maybe it’s you that needs compassion and grace, so give it to yourself. Spoiler alert: it’s all going to be ok.

And everybody extend some grace to your cranky neighbor or your combative Uncle Fred or nagging Aunt Ethel. They have their stuff too and we’re all in this together and doing the best we can. Nod, smile, and pour yourself another glass of wine. It’s all going to be ok.

Cheers!

Traveling Girl

Good morning from your jet-lagged author.  Flew in to Denver last night and am so happy to be home and sitting here on my couch with coffee exactly the way I like it (funny the things you miss), even if I did wake up at 4 am.  I have a new thought on the breakdown of the joy of travel this morning:

30%: anticipation and planning – I know not everyone feels this way, but I find so much joy in looking forward to a great trip

50%: the actual trip

20%: coming home.  I always appreciate everything, everything so much more when I get back from a long trip….everything from my bed and my coffee maker and a long hot shower to the smile of a dear friend meeting me in the airport (oh how I missed my wonderful friends on this trip!).  I remember how much I love Denver, and I know that for a precious little while here everything will feel bigger and brighter and warmer and more brilliant.  It’s like a long sustained runner’s high for a few days….then my brain will reset and this will all be normal again.  

It’s a lovely reminder of how good life is….I try to keep this feeling in my mind and come back to it as often as I can until the next trip.

My friend and I in Paris talked a lot about the many faces of travel, and all the things that go into a memorable trip, not all of them good.  There’s anxiety and ecstasy and adventure and frustration and elation and wonder.  My trip on the whole was outstanding, as you know, and it included all of these things.  You know what I love about that?  It reminds me that all of those things are in us.  All of us.  All the time.  In our everyday lives, our emotional spectrum doesn’t (usually) need to be quite so broad.  We can go through life with general contentment and mild annoyance and little bursts of laughter here and there without even realizing we’ve lowered the standard deviation of our experience on this planet.  

And then we travel.  And it stretches and challenges and broadens us.  I love that.

Of the many things that make a great travel experience, high on the list for me is the help you get along the way….everyone from kind and patient hotel employees to amazing waitstaff that make a memorable meal even more incredible.  Kind and generous and fun loving people are everywhere if you have your eyes open for them.  A great example from this trip:  my friend, before I even got to Paris, chatted with a woman at a super cool little wine shop, and the conversation ended up including her waxing poetic about a Mersault (white burgundy) that she was especially passionate about.  With really not too much trouble, we arranged to have lunch at their restaurant when I was there and have them put that wine on ice for us before we arrived.  

It was transcendent.  In the words of my friend, who knows way more about wine than I do, one of the best lunches ever.  It wasn’t just the wine (itself enough for me to write three more paragraphs about) – it was the perfect setting on a drizzly Paris afternoon, the truly fabulous Alice who served us and chatted with us about the wine, the great conversation.  And then it was Alice that shepherded our trip for a bit from there – she invited us to a wine tasting that the shop was having the next night.  Not only were we the only Americans there, we got to meet the actual winemaker of that magical Mersault.  He spoke zero English and we very little French, and it didn’t matter – he could tell how much we loved his creation and put his hand over his heart and smiled in thanks.

This photo doesn’t even begin to do the setting justice.  I felt like I was on the set of a French movie:



It’s the first wine, above, for my wine loving friends.  We bought some and were able to get it shipped, so count on a dinner party with some outstanding Mersault sometime this fall.

Then….the next day I woke early and went to the Eiffel Tower (I know, I know, but I had never been), and afterwards we met up at my favorite metro station – Cité.  It was designed by an art-nouveau artist named Hector Guimard, who was responsible for several metro stations, and it’s one of the best preserved, with some of the original light fixtures.  I just love going to see it.

A side trip to my favorite bookstore, Shakespeare and Company, and my trip could have been complete, but there was more in store.  At lunch at an amazing Israeli restaurant, Balagan, we had the most fabulous service and meal – the staff couldn’t have been friendlier and more fun.  We sat at the bar and had truly outstanding Israeli wine (admission: I didn’t know these existed.  Some of them were really, really great) and food.  Because we were having so much fun chatting with the staff, we were still there when David Blaine (the magician) showed up with his six year old daughter.  This little six year old girl did a card trick for us that would absolutely blow your mind.  What a fun and totally unexpected experience.

That night we capped it all off with dinner at a great (I am running out of adjectives) wine bar called Frenchie.  A must if you are in Paris.  Impossibly cool decor, outstanding staff, and fabulous food and wine.  The kind of place that makes you feel cooler than you are just because you’re there.

The morning we left my friend snapped these two images while out on a morning run.  If these don’t capture Paris, I don’t know what does:



I’m grateful to be home and oh so grateful for the experiences of the last three weeks.  Thanks for coming along for the ride.

Wishing everyone moments of adventure and love and challenge and triumph and wonder at the kindness of strangers.  In travel and in everyday life.

Until the next trip….

Cheers!

Traveling Girl

Last we chatted, dear readers, I was about to head back to Italy.  I boarded a flight in Nice filled with the best looking plane full of people I have ever seen, and laughed as Alitalia served a full meal with wine on a 55 minute flight at noon.  Yes, I think I’m going to like Rome….

I arrived in time for a very late lunch (I declined the plane meal, as lovely as I found the idea), and simply headed to a restaurant recommended by my hotel.  I have to say, my first meal in Rome was like a mild shock of electricity.  Oh, no no no… food in northern Italy is not like this.  It’s lovely, but it’s not like this.  All I had was meatballs and white beans (and wine of course) and it was magnificent.


Knowing I’d have two more full days here, I just walked around all afternoon.  Eventually I wandered past the Tivoli Fountain (or, rather, squished through the crowd there) and the Spanish steps.  I smiled at how theatrical and expressive Romans are….and now I get all the things I read about the differences between Rome and, say, Turin.  Turin is indeed full of buttoned-up bankers compared to Rome.  But I play a buttoned-up banker in my real life so I didn’t notice.  Rome is definitely closer to the Italy of my imagination.  Plus, you have love a city where adult professionals in suits walk around with ice cream cones after work.

I took another recommendation for dinner from the hotel, and had a lovely meal next to a mother and daughter from Australia.  This photo cracks me up – she is laughing because both of those giant books are wine lists.

The perennially hospitable Bobby from Frasca in Boulder sent several restaurant recommendations, but as this was a literally last minute trip, they were all booked except one, La Rosetta, which I am excited to go to tonight.  

In the morning I hired a tour guide to see the Vatican, and I’m so glad I went that route…. with a guide you skip the line, and all the plaque reading, which I have limited patience for.  It was just stunning, all of it.  I know for those of you who have been to Rome before this sounds like old hat, but I was like a wide-eyed kid for three hours.  I think St Peter’s basilica was my favorite part.  My guide, Laura, asked me if I wanted to pray in the small chapel on the side…

Are people who aren’t Catholic allowed to do that?  Pretty sure after all my dumb questions she is aware that I am not Catholic…

Well, she offered… so I went in and sat quietly for a moment, sending up a little prayer of gratitude for this amazing trip and hope for a continued life of adventure.  When I touched the foot of the statue of St Peter and made my wish, I wished for the same.

After I left Laura I wandered for a bit, and then settled on a little trattoria for lunch.  A Frenchwoman who was arriving at the same time suggested that we sit together.  I politely declined, in French, and she said, in English “oh for heaven’s sake, I don’t want to talk to you, it’s just easier for the restaurant if we share a table here where it’s crowded.”  

Oh.  Well, sure.  Ok then.  As promised, she did not say very much.  I of course immediately felt awkward about that and tried to start a conversation, which was met with a blank stare.  The French are quite capable of sitting and not making conversation….and we’re just…not.  Quite as much. But I’m sure the restaurant appreciated it.  😉

I walked to the Jewish quarter and the coliseum in the afternoon…it was hot, but a gorgeous day.  I really love the sculptural trees in Rome.  I feel like they’re what I notice most.  They’re everywhere, and so visually interesting.

As mentioned, I have limited capacity for plaque-reading, so I spent my time at the coliseum leaning over the railing and imagining the thunder of chariots and the roar of crowds…. not hard when you are standing there.

On the way back to the hotel I saw some very entertaining street artists….this guy especially made me laugh:

And this is a pretty common caricature drawing:

This morning I went on a short run in a park near my hotel and was rewarded with this view:

Here’s what’s important about this photo:  see that in the foreground?  That’s the start line for the Rome marathon.  Tomorrow.  200 meters from my hotel.  And my flight out of Rome is in the morning.  Wish me luck.

Cheers!

Traveling Girl




I’m off to Rome in a few hours!  Hard to believe I’ve never been there….I am so excited to see it.  To walk, eat, drink, and soak it all in.

My day in Nice yesterday was so lovely.  I arrived late Tuesday night from Corsica, low on decision making capacity after all the initerary changes, so I just had dinner in the hotel and called it a night.  I woke up to sunshine and a brilliant blue sky, and after some coffee I went for a walk and then planted myself on the beach for a couple of hours.  I spent that time corresponding with the concierge at my hotel in Rome to arrange a tour (more on that shortly) and researching restaurants that I want to go to with my friend in Paris.  Before my pale Irish skin could burn too much, I packed up and headed back to the hotel to freshen up for lunch.

Lunch was on a plaza close to the beach, and I am so sorry I didn’t get a photo…it was all dappled sunlight and delightful people watching.  There was this one small boy, French, probably about three years old, jumping to try to reach a low hanging branch, and I swear he was at it for at least an hour.  He’d get a running start sometimes, come at it from a different direction other times, and then dissolve into a pile of giggles at himself.  Then he’d get back up and try again.  I’m not sure who was more amused – him, or me with my glass of rosé watching him. 

After lunch I walked to the Chagall museum – about a mile from where I was, so that took up most of the afternoon.  It was a gorgeous walk on such a nice day, and well worth it.  The museum is beautiful.  In addition to a large collection of his works, it has a small theater showing a film about his life, so I sat down and watched for a bit, and here’s what struck me about the great artist’s life: he started over so many times. I won’t get the history right so I won’t try to give you an accurate recap, but he lived in France, Berlin, and Moscow, vacillating between moderate success and total poverty several times, at one point separated from his love, Bella, for four years.  They fled together to the US during WWII, landing in New York.  She died there a few years later, and on returning to France he found his studio looted and all his canvases gone.  So he just went back to painting more.  He found love again, moved to Provence, continued painting and creating well into old age.  I’ve always loved stories of reinvention, of second and third and fourth acts in life.  Maybe it’s my way of warding off a mid-life crisis – if Chagall can keep growing and creating and adding beauty to the world through all that, so can we all.

I ended my day with a walk back down along the ocean.  I loved this scene of four friends playing backgammon (I think that’s what that is) and cards together in the fading light:

My last stop before dinner was to have a glass of wine at the iconic Hotel Negresco.  Built in 1912, it is an almost impossibly grand building, the sort that makes you feel sophisticated just walking into it.

Dinner was simple – mussels and french fries by the water.  I was in bed early, and woke this morning relaxed and ready to head to Rome!  

I’ve arranged a tour tomorrow morning to make sure I see the big sights since this was a very last minute trip and I’ve done zero research.  It would be just like me to wander around Rome for two days and miss seeing, like, the coliseum or something.  Also I understand a tour guide makes the Vatican much easier to tackle.  Thank you for the suggestion, Sarah!  And I have dinner reservations at a restaurant recommended by Bobby Stuckey, so I feel like I have the basics set for a great couple of days in Roma.

More later from the eternal city….

Cheers!

Traveling Girl

Remember our little conversation about going with the flow?

Well.  Let’s augment that with a discussion on making changes when changes are needed.  And trusting our gut instincts, which are nearly always more accurate than we give them credit for.

Here’s the thing about group trips…the success really depends on having a great group.  And, as I discovered in the last 24 hours, traveling solo actually magnifies that, because you don’t have anyone else with you to moderate the effect of the group.  This collection of hikers consisted of some really very nice people, but for reasons that I’ll tell you about some other time over a glass or three of wine, was just untenable for me for this trip.

So I’m calling an audible.  The travel company has been truly lovely, a great example of good leadership by their management team and terrific customer service.  They can’t refund the whole thing, of course, but they seem really willing to find a good solution with me, which I so very much appreciate.  It was a hard decision.  And one made with an oh so helpful flurry of texts from friends back home who rallied to my aid with advice and wisdom.  Thanks, friends. 

Some money wasted, of course…but looking at it the other way, would you pay have a sub-par vacation?  Hell no, you wouldn’t.  Would you pay to avoid having a sub-par vacation?  Probably.  That is essentially what I’m doing.  And I’m proud of myself, as I’m always proud of friends when faced with this sort of situation, for saying no, this is not ok with me.  I want more for myself in this situation.  So I’m going to be kind and polite but firm and see if I can’t find a way to make this better.

None of this is the end of the world, of course.  Please know that I get that before you get too critical, in the event this is striking you as much to do about nothing.  It’s an amazing thing to me to be able to have all these options and to even be able to make these changes.  Hell, to even be here at all.  I’ve woken up grateful for that every morning of this trip.

For the moment I’m still in Corsica, so let me back up a bit.  When I left you last, I was about to drive (or be driven, rather) from Calvi, on the northern coast, down to Ajaccio, birthplace of Napoleon.  The drive to Ajaccio reminded me of the loveliest parts of the Blue Ridge parkway, interspersed with charming ancient little Mediterranean towns.  We arrived in Sartène just in time for dinner, never really seeing the town, so imagine my delight upon waking up to this:

Given my, ahem, imminent departure from this group, I did not see them when they left at 9:30 for the day’s hike.  I got myself organized for my departure later in the day and then walked into town.  The town was originally built somewhere in the 1400’s, and you can see the remains of older structures at the base of newer (like, you know, 1700’s) ones.  It’s charming and lovely, especially on a blue sky, if wildly windy day. (The crazy hair attempted selfie was too funny not to include)

I had a lovely lunch in town…the cuisine in Corsica is very meat-heavy, surprising (to me, anyway) for a Mediterranean island.  I would have expected more fish.  But the island is very proud of its pigs, and pork plays a big role in most dishes.

So my plan now is this:  I fly from Corsica to Nice this evening.  I will spend two nights in Nice, where the weather happens to be gorgeous right now, then I’ll head to Rome for three nights.  I’m sad to miss seeing Sardinia….the pull of that made this decision very difficult, but in the end it’s the right one.  I’ll just have to come back here some day.

After Rome I’ll join a friend who happens to be in Paris for a few days, then home to Denver.

Au revoir from Corsica, wishing you all confidence to trust your instincts and stand up for what you really want.

Cheers!

Traveling Girl