This Book Is About Travel

by Andrew Hyde

  I offered up a glancing look of concern as I took my sip, one sip, of wine. The bubbly German stewardess is gone and Lev is now slurring his words. The conversation has undergone a radical transmutation: the “where are you from” musings with the guy I am being culturally polite to is suddenly replaced with “where have you hired prostitutes you fucking fuck of a fuck?” The latter being his words, not mine. My phrasing would have been much more elegant, allegedly. It was awkward.

  I attempted to divert my attention and watch a movie but Lev would have none of this. He kept poking me drunkenly, telling me some crazy story or some off color tip like how to smuggle weed through customs. After another installment of a fantastic story — this one about not paying a prostitute and threatening a pimp in Athens — he suddenly stopped his orations and wild hand gestures. He looked up to me. There was a dramatic shift in energy as he passed from being a boisterous ego to a little puppy dog with watery eyes. A pale, dull look. Not in a boring way — it was not that kind of dull — it was more of a “someone just stabbed me and you are the only one that will tell my family I’m here” look.

  “I love you,” he said. He put his arm over me — as if we were sitting in a respectable cabin class as lovers on vacation — interlocked our hands and promptly passed out. The bubbly German stewardess caught this smooth move from the Jackie Chan of drunken pickup lines and offered up an eyebrow raise of concern.

  I have my eyes locked on the stewardess. Hi, it is me, the guy sitting next to the man you just served eight drinks to in one minute. He now has me as his transatlantic pillow. I would appreciate it if you would please GET ME OUT OF HERE NOW. You did this to me. You need to fix it. Love, your caring passenger in seat 36A.

  Yes, he took a fist-full of pills. Yes, he finished every drink you gave him. Yes, I feel very uncomfortable in the bear-hugging clutches of a blacked out, three hundred pound man. Yes, his palms are very sweaty. No, I don’t think there is a way for me to sneak by him to the isle. Yes, dammit, he is drooling. Sure, it was pretty funny at first, in all honesty. But this moment has passed and so has his consciousness.

  But this is travel, after all. And as a “traveler” I feel this obligation to be open to the adventures of chance happenings and random events like this. Sure, there was a drunk, prostitute-loving, Mongolian Russian forcibly holding my hand and bear hugging me, but no harm was really being done. I should be happy as long as I didn’t get hurt. Right?

  Then he stopped breathing.

  Well, we thought he stopped breathing. Team Help Passenger 36A sprang into action, consisting of the bartender/stewardess, a Russian native (with a Bible!) and the person in 35A who later admitted to just wanting to watch something better than the airline edited version of “The Notebook.” With a drooling Lev blacked out and holding hands with me, Ms. 35A said this love story was more authentic.

  The whole event is quite the scene. The Bible is being read in Russian, steadily increasing in vocal elevation until it’s full on yelling. The stewardess and I are trying desperately to find a pulse or signs of breathing. I ask her if she is more concerned about the pills or the 8 drinks she served him. Oh, the pills, of course. She serves that many “all the time.”

  I am asked if the Mongolian Russian and I are dating.

  My mind flashes to all the other victims of the airlines version of Lev. Huddled in their seats just hoping their single serving friend doesn’t die on them. Don’t die on me, Lev. We “plus-one’s” all share a commonality that we will discover one defiant day. All the Levs didn’t keep us down. We beat the Lev situation. We grasp arms and sing a theme song. Do you get a first class seat if your assigned neighbor dies?

  All these things I wonder while the drool (mostly vodka, let’s be honest) accumulates on my shoulder. You did this to me Blondie, fix it. Fix it for all of us. Fix it in the name of every single air travel safety trinket sold at every airport in the world.

  Lev wakes up and the chorus sings: gasp (me); shriek (bartender); and “Аллилуйя!” (person that carries a Russian Bible at all times).

  I think this is where the story of my Lev and all the other “I’ve been served three cups of vodka” Levs differ. Lev wakes up like someone who’s just had a bucket of cold water tossed on him and thinks I’m his boyfriend/girlfriend/person he is comfortable enough with to try and nuzzle up for a snuggle.

  I don’t feel the same way. This causes conflict. And in a traditional (I can assume) Mongolian Russian courting ritual, conflict is an invitation to be strong, to show dominance. Lev tries to lay down the law. He grabs my wrists. The stewardess grabs his wrist. The Russian Bible crusader (seriously, the oddest thing about the story) says “стой!” She means it. I assume it means more of “stop that you idiot” and less of “you, me, destiny.” “стой! стой! стой!”

  Destiny.

  Ms. 35A smacks him on the head. “стой!” I’m a peaceful man, or I may have done the same. There is a scuffle. In tight quarters I’m sure this looked like a slow, uneventful thumb wrestling match — but I had to get free from his grasp. I unbuckle my seatbelt (this has not occurred to me before) and prepare for a jump. We struggle back and forth a bit more until Lev blacks out, again.

  My crotch is equidistant to his head, which is in butting distance of my face, which is all impossibly close to my ability to be fearless in order to ensure this event doesn’t turn from being a funny, table talk story into a tragedy that involves an emergency landing in some country, a stay in lord knows what hospital, and a drawn out lawsuit testifying against Lev in a foreign, white room dominated by the cold hum of vending machines. Intimacy is usually earned. Not so, for single serving airplane friends.

  As far as escapes from arranged marriages on airplanes goes, I think I did somewhere between Jennifer Anniston rom-com and representing my nation in the Summer Olympics: A vault over the head of Lev gets me standing ovation honors from Ms. 35A.

  Аллилуйя.

  I have a stern conversation with the bartender/stewardess/German twenty-something with soft eyes and a flirtatious touch. She is very apologetic and brings me to the back of the plane. Intermixed with the line for the bathroom, she pulls out two shots of rum. We link arms and eyes like we were drinking fine wine on a third date and take the shot. The shot washes down roughly, we laugh about what just happened, and I ask for another seat.

  One of the only remaining seats is in the far back of the plane. First class is full, I am told. There still are four hours on this flight when Lev might die. Or wake up.

  Chapter 12

  HOW I PLAN

  The great thing in the world is not so much where we stand, as in what direction we are moving.

  —Oliver Wendell Holmes

  PLANNING A RTW TRIP

  To be in a place of stability is calming, but just for a moment. Being in a steady place brings much needed rhythm. A usual place to get lunch, a drink, or a movie. It is in these moments, when I have something to stand on, that I jump off mentally to plan more travel. Travel, at this point, is completely integrated into the way I live my life. It’s become my routine, a part of my everyday habits. Travel remains constantly within the realm of possibility, and as such, it’s less like an exception that I work towards, and a bit more like the rule. But it still requires planning. It could be for a weekend, it could be for a year, but my basic strategy for planning always follows a similar rhythm.

  First of all, I am a constant researcher. I look at airfare like a baseball fan checks box scores. I love to tinker and explore places online. Somewhere in between this digital inspiration and a gut check of my needs, I start to plan a trip. My first phase is always giving myself permission at that particular moment. Do I feel like traveling? Do I have enough cash? Are all my relationships in good order? Is there anything I should be doing over traveling?

  A word for the wise: debt kills dreams. Debt is cash, things and fear. You can plan to be debt free, but a trap of credit cards, a house full of stuff and a lack of c
onfidence will lead to a life that you don’t choose to live; Rather, the debt lives it for you.

  My second phase with planning is looking for hooks. Something that will get your attention about a specific place at a specific time. A sporting event, friend to visit, an interesting conference, or just reading about a fantastic activity are all great reasons to decide on a place. I’ll go to kayak.com or hipmunk.com to check basic airfare and set my preliminary budget.

  The third phase is laying out a strategy. I take out a map and look at the region I’m looking to go to. I look at where I want to go as a center and guide to what is nearby. Airfare prices seem to ebb and flow with the customers ability to figure out how to get around the traps that they — airlines, travel websites — lay out. Ten years ago you were heavily penalized for trips without a Saturday night stay (penalizing the business class passengers that would want to get home to their family and didn’t care about the price). Airlines are looking for ways get you to buy their low cost ticket but recoup these fees. Extra bags, carry ons and legroom can run you a fee today on some airlines (at this rate, having a seat at all will earn you an extra fee next year).

  At this point, I currently book trips based on a strategy I nickname the “three leg loop.” Round trip airfare (especially between somewhat popular places or hubs) is generally about the same price as a three-city trip. For instance, I just researched a ticket to Doha from New York City. It was $1450 for a round trip with one stop in London for a quick layover. On the return leg I added on Paris, France as a five day stop and the price actually dropped to $1245! I pushed back the flight to Paris two weeks and purchased a round trip flight from Doha to Nairobi, Kenya for $296.

  I could have taken a trip to the Doha for $1450. Instead I went to London (chose the long layover spent the day in Hyde Park), Dubai, Nairobi and Paris for $1541! $91 to go to three other countries! These prices are not uncommon, but the people who look for them are! If you travel for work you can package the work compensation on the base price of a round trip towards a “three leg loop” and a holiday. There are many more rock bottom deals to be had if you work in credit card and frequent flyer numbers. I flew to Sydney from Los Angeles for miles and $100.

  So now that I’ve booked the travel, I need to figure out lodging. I love staying with friends. Late night conversations and a local’s perspective on where they live (and generally love) are two of the reasons I spend so much time on the road. I’ll post to Facebook and Twitter that I’m heading to an area and ask for advice and introductions. I’ll try to have a few nights planned with a host or a basic accommodation for the first few nights in a country. If I don’t have friends in the area, I usually book a popular hostel with good reviews. Good hostels are like little bee-hives. They are positively buzzing with travelers with diverse interests and who have been there for various lengths of time — acquiring all kinds of information on where they have been and cultivating exciting ideas about where they want to go. They can be goldmines in helping you orient to a new place.

  While I’m planning out my first few nights in an area, I’ll make sure I know if I will need a Visa or any additional shots to meet the requirements of entry. Visas are just permission to enter a country, but many countries treat them as “arrival taxes” to tourists. Many countries issue a “Visa on arrival” for a slew of nationalities, while some nationalities are simply not welcome. A general rule is that the policy for visiting a country is similar to the one imposed by the country your passport is from. Sometimes it is free to enter a country and you can get your Visa at the airport when you land, sometimes it is a few hundred dollars and hours of frustrating work applying. It can be very odd. Nepal, for example, only accepts USD in cash on arrival for their entry.

  I’ll spend some nights researching the country on http://wikitravel.com and http://everlater.com. Both let me take a snapshot look at what the countries are like, photos and recent reviews from other travelers. The Lonely Planet forums are also extremely valuable http://www.lonelyplanet.com/thorntree/index.jspa. I find it important to get a good overview but to not get stressed out about planning everything. I met a traveler on an eight month trip who had booked out (and paid deposits) on every hostel she was staying at for the entire trip. That must have taken a month of research and work and hooked her into a plan that couldn’t be changed. She enjoyed hanging out with our group in Australia, but was forced to move on. Her whole trip was being governed by what she had thought she had wanted to do months before, without actually being in the place, instead of being guided by what she actually wanted to do in that moment. Not planning is sometimes just important as planning!

  I book out just enough to get my “land legs” in a country. So ahead of time, I don’t book tours. I don’t reserve anything. I don’t make a list of what I have to do. Instead, I get to the place, and feel it out. This usually means I go outside, close my eyes (or open them) and really check into what the feel of the area is. What do I want to do after I feel the way I feel? I become relaxed or intense depending on my desire to be leisurely, educationally sated or physically challenged.

  Once my trip is booked and I know I will be going, it’s like my travel antenna is activated and I pay attention and notice whenever and however my destination comes up — in the news, online, in casual conversation, etc. I move into the mode of getting as much information as possible from people that have just traveled to the area. “Sharing Beta” is how climbers refer to this, and seasoned travelers are near experts in this practice. “Where did you go? Did you love it? What do you wish you had done? How much was the tour?” Be prepared to share as much as you ask!

  This is, more or less, exactly how I plan a trip. It works for me. But the starting place is always about making the conscious shift in your mind where you open yourself up to the possibility of going.

  Make it real. It doesn’t have to be an immediate goal. I didn’t take my first international trip until five years after I had my passport in hand.

  So the question to you is, are you giving yourself permission to go? Are you doing what you need to do to get there?

  PLANNING A RTW TRIP

  So there is a secret to planning a RTW (round the world) trip that is pretty bold: the only thing holding you back is time.

  Time is by far the most expensive part of a RTW trip. That goes for both the year it takes leading up to the trip with planning, and the year (or however long it is) of actual travel. It is not money. Let me repeat that: The most expensive part of a RTW trip is not money. This is a very, very common misconception. Most, if not all, people that have the “that is good for you, but I could never do that” frame of mind equate RTW travel with monetary expenses. Another valence of this secret? My RTW trip is costing me less than what my rent and bills would be for my apartment. Think about that. Release your mind from the incarcerating idea that a RTW is elite and unattainable. If you want to go for a trip where you can see amazing places, eat exotic foods, and make friends from all over the world, you are going to make it happen for the price of splitting your rent with a roommate.

  You know this. Your reaction just played it out. If you read that last paragraph and imagined what you would look like on a beach or at the base of majestic mountains — you are going to go on the trip. If you didn’t place yourself in a situation of travel, didn’t imagine, you probably won’t (or you are going to have to prove yourself wrong).

  It is pretty simple. The mind is a dangerous thing with a goal on the horizon.

  Ok, game on. You are going to do a RTW trip. Perhaps not this year, perhaps not next, but you are going to make it happen. For me this was my freshman year of college (2002). I won a travel sheet set at a “you should think about traveling” event. The seed was planted. I was going to take a RTW trip. In 2010, I finally took the big trip. Within that eight year lag, I nourished my imagination, planned where I wanted to go, and saved up for my budget (although, to be clear, it took just a year of focused saving for the trip — not eight).

>   So let’s all take a deep breath and remember what travel is really all about in the big picture. Yep, first and foremost, it’s about getting there. So get there, already! Here are five simple steps for doing a RTW trip:

  Step 1: Where do you dream of going?

  Great, now take that list, and go there. Well, you are going to go there, but first go there online.

  Right now. Find photos of beaches, cities, and mountains you want to visit. What do you like? Urban areas? Parties? Jungles? Deserts? Ancient Ruins? Trekking? Diving? It is all an option. All of it. See what it looks like on a map. Get inspired. Wet your appetite. Be okay with not knowing what is out there and getting excited about things out of your comfort zone.

  Step 2: Time is king.

  Travel is fun. Hurried travel is like commuting, and I hate commuting. Plan on giving yourself time to travel. Don’t spend five days in Peru and then move on. Plan on spending a month in every country as a minimum. You want to be there, slow down. It is massively cheaper and you get more out of the experience. Don’t have time for a RTW trip? Can you find a month? Go to Thailand. Or go to Brazil. One county for four weeks is a great short, or mini trip option.

  Step 3: Read the synopsis in guidebooks, and then leave them at home.

  I hate the guidebooks. Hate them. Breathe in. Breathe out. Actually, I love that they exist. They might point you towards a trip that you will have fun with and they may offer you a lot of amazing information — I just hate their fan club. If you have your nose in a guidebook during a trip you miss the feel of an area. To me, guidebooks are like getting to know a place from a newspaper published a year or two ago. How is the sports team? 14-2, but in 2009. That is great, but how is the place that I am visiting today? This day. The day you are there, when the leaves are falling off the trees and the BBQ smells especially sweet. I would rather have that memory, with it’s texture, uniqueness, and personal vibrancy than spend the day sloppily going about the city doing stuff simply because it is there.