The Feisty Traveler - A Quirky Memoir

by Lil Cromer

  Travel is as much about whom we are as it is about where we are. We can’t help observing ourselves as we are observed by others. Travel encourages explorations and invites new experiences. I also love being anonymous in a city I’ve never been before.

  Because each of us is different, travel is different for everyone. Some countries connect with us while others may not. Be fanatically positive and militantly optimistic. If something is not to your liking, change your liking.

  I travel a lot because I hate my life being disrupted by routine. Waking up and knowing that it’s Monday, laundry day, or Wednesday it’s volunteer day, or Sunday it’s church day would bore me to death. Masquerading as a normal person day after day is exhausting.

  After a month in Italy, I realized this country didn’t connect with me. However my dream trip to Australia and New Zealand really connected, as did my trip to Eastern Europe.

  Travel may involve challenges and uncertainty. For example, how did we manage to begin our trip packing all the wrong clothes and forgetting trusted toiletries?

  A couple lessons I’ve learned: the world is smaller than we imagined, and some hearts may be larger; everybody you meet knows something you don’t.

  Chapter 3

  Single Traveling

  *

  The man who goes alone can start today; but he who travels with another must wait till that other is ready. — Henry David Thoreau

  You have a lot of space when you’re traveling alone. That way I get to listen to people, read, and challenge my mind. Single travelers are more on top of things than if they stay in one place. Alone I can break with tradition and cross boundaries imposed by society. It’s better to walk alone than with a crowd going in the wrong direction.

  I choose friends who are intelligent and engaged; so it’s easy to make friends while traveling, because travelers, for the most part, are intelligent and certainly engaged.

  Friends constantly ask me how I can travel by myself; they could never get out of their comfort zones. In my opinion, life begins at the end of your comfort zone.

  There’s a difference between traveling alone as a married woman and traveling alone as a widow. The state of widowhood allows for more peace of mind, nobody to please but yourself. Solo traveling allows congenial conversation with waiters and bartenders. But the greatest asset is to be able to observe. If you travel with your eyes open, travel can be an adventure.

  After polling my friends, males and females alike, I was shocked to learn 98% of them are uncomfortable going out to eat and drink alone. Ditto for traveling by themselves.

  I’ve learned a few basics that make traveling alone safe. Leave showy jewelry at home, pack lightly as you will be schlepping your own bag, and most importantly be aware of your surroundings.

  Another advantage to traveling alone is that I can take my oldest underwear, clothes and pajamas and simply throw them away as I go along, making more room for bringing home stuff.

  Sometimes single travelers will be assigned a room the size of a broom closet. In Venice my room was so narrow that I could touch opposite walls at the same time. The bed was no wider than a cot. Yet no matter how small the accommodations are in Europe they manage to find a way to squeeze a bidet into the bathroom. The miniscule room I was assigned on a Globus trip to the UK could have been the smallest. This room was teenier than a cabin on a ship. In the bathroom I had to pull my knees up to my chest when sitting on the toilet as the wee shower was like right there. And in the shower, if I dropped the soap, there was no room to bend over and pick it up — I had to open the shower door to retrieve it! And don’t expect to find washcloths while traveling outside the US. I discovered that a bag of soft cleaning rags from Home Depot comes in handy, which you can toss away after using. Newbie travelers are happy to barter one of my “washcloths” for a glass of wine.

  Don’t confuse traveling alone with being lonely. Twice I tried traveling with companions, both of them disastrous. One joined me on a cruise on the Love Boat to the Mexican Riviera and the other went with me to Alaska. I can honestly say traveling alone is preferable than traveling with bad travel companions. A compatible travel companion is a rare and wonderful thing. A great travel companion is: optimistic, energetic, not easily discouraged, not inclined to depression, skeptical and up for anything. As Ernest Hemingway said, “Never go on trips with anyone you don’t love.” I learned this the hard way. Given a choice of traveling by myself or traveling with a companion, I’ll go solo every time, it’s more fun and certainly less stressful.

  I have never carried a backpack nor stayed in a hostel and can’t conceive ever doing so. I’m cautious about the places I go alone. It takes courage to get away from your “tour” and really get to know the people and their culture. But after all, we travel to witness the unreal, to take in the extraordinary ordinariness of a way of life we could never imagine.

  Traveling alone there are no schedules to keep. Traveling alone provides solitude. For example, several summers I’ve spent in the mountains of western North Carolina. There I have no landline and only give my cell number to a few close friends. That way I can take an entire day to write in my pajamas, drink wine and eat if I feel like it or not eat if I choose.

  The first time I set out alone was in 1998, the year my husband died. See the chapter on cruising. In the years since, I’ve traveled solo to various destinations and have been just fine. It’s true that you’re more likely to meet people and make new friends when you’re on your own. We’re approachable when we’re alone.

  It’s not easy to leave the comforts of home to explore the world. Moving out of your comfort zone takes some testicular fortitude, more so traveling solo.

  You are simply bolder when you are alone, infinitely more receptive to conversation, drinks, and even dinner with strangers. The month I was in Italy I met Rachel, a fellow solo traveler — we’ve since become good friends and travel partners. During my travels I’ve met several folks who are on my same page who have invited me to join them on excursions or join them for dinner.

  Then there’s the spontaneity, which is a vital part of going solo, as well as a sense of freedom and the ability to make choices that suit you. If you don’t like a certain place you can leave and conversely, if you like a certain place, you can stay longer. When in a strange city, I always check with the front desk to ask which neighborhoods are not safe to walk in. Sometimes you need to be rude if somebody pesters you or tries to sell you a genuine Rolex watch for only $10.00. Also remember to leave your good jewelry at home and wear the bling you bought at the flea market.

  Solo traveling is the perfect antidote to boredom because you are not shackled by the wants and needs of another person who may want to keep you stuck in your comfort zone. For example a guy on a UK tour suggested I stay in the hotel in Liverpool with him and his wife because it wasn’t safe because he noticed street cameras. If I had listened, I would have missed a delightful evening with a retired gent in a pub whose dream was to travel to the US. We had a wonderful conversation. If I had stayed in the hotel, I would have been with Americans, which begs the question why travel? Solo travel restores my soul.

  The following paragraphs contain some tips from Gutsy Women by Marybeth Bond and Travel alone and Love It by Sharon Wingler

  Over 70% of organized adventure travel clients are women. But that shouldn’t surprise anyone. In relationships it’s typically the female who plans most of the social engagements. Folks have commented on travel being risky. But I contend that all life is risky. Look at life in the US, there are some cities we wouldn’t be caught dead in, pardon the pun. It’s important to ensure that any fear you may have while traveling alone is due to inexperience, not danger.

  Spontaneity and flexibility are key to successful travel. I’ve learned to travel lightly; you’re not traveling for people to see you. I’ve also taken a few “Last Minute” trips at a steep discount. Last minute is typically 90 days out. If you can’t get ready in 90 days, you shouldn’
t call yourself a traveler.

  I return from a trip with a different perspective as I ease my way back into home life. You must travel with an open mind and leave your prejudices at home.

  I believe life is to be lived fully. When an opportunity arises, go for it. Or as Yogi Berra said, “When you come to a fork in the road, take it.” Every traveler keeps in mind the next destination. Take every journey you can — short, long, near or far. Seek pleasure and personal satisfaction. Be self-oriented and follow your dreams. Your happiness will make others happy wherever you go.

  When I laid out my travel bucket list, I left out countries where men are known for either hassling or dominating women, which basically is the entire Middle East. I’ve read many travel books over the years and most warn single female travelers to stay out of Islamic countries. I heed their warning and as for myself, why would I want to travel to countries that treat their women like chattel? A place where women must cover up even in 95% weather. Here in Florida, I have seen women with children at the beach, the woman covered from head to toe in black abayas.

  Serendipity is the heart of all travel. Once the travel bug bites there is no known anecdote; I’ll be happily infected until the end of my life.

  Dining alone is an acquired skill. For example, never dine in a place that doesn’t have a counter or a bar. If the folks seated near you are anti-social, you always have the bartender to talk with. When you travel alone you can be extroverted and reach out and strike up conversations with strangers. I’m glad I wasn’t born an introvert. Never tip less than the price of a beer in the local currency.

  Always pick up a business card from your hotel. Years ago when Hal and I were in Mexico city with limited Spanish, he kept mixing up the words for right, left and straight ahead and drove the poor taxi driver crazy.

  Occasionally the thought crosses my mind that no one on earth knows where I am. I was both exhilarated and vulnerable. But then I asked myself what difference does it make?

  Recognize the difference between solitude and loneliness. I like my own company and cherish my time alone. When not traveling my Sundays at home are sacred, my day to unwind and charge my batteries for the busy week ahead. I’m rarely lonely, but near the end of my 5000 mile road trip, I felt a twinge of loneliness on the interstate driving home through Georgia and Florida.

  What’s around the next bend, over the next hill? It’s exhilarating when we see a place for the first time and sensations wash over us. This is the joy of discovery. As a traveler, I can achieve a kind of high, a somewhat altered state of consciousness.

  Many people tell me, “Wow, you’re really gutsy. I could never travel alone, I’d be too afraid.” My response is, “Have you ever tried it?” Anais Nin writes, “Life shrinks or expands in proportion to one’s courage.”

  Chapter 4

  Ugly Americans

  *

  Many Americans take their narrow-mindedness with them when they travel. In order to overcome that narrow-mindedness, you must immerse yourself in the culture you are visiting.

  Ugly Americans are intimate with their own ignorance! I cringe when I’m on a tour with ugly Americans and trust me; all tours have at least one. They have disregard for class and old-fashioned manners and their crude ways offend others. They speak so loudly others squirm. Most Europeans speak English and can and will understand us, if only we remember to speak slowly and clearly and not use slang or idioms. Well, the UAs just don’t get it, typically asking why they don’t speak English in foreign countries.

  On my tour of Eastern Europe, an opinionated old fart traveling alone assumed he knew everything, but quickly showed his ignorance by opening his mouth. The man was a true misogynist. Not knowing he was an ugly American, I sat with him and a sweet couple from Miami at breakfast the first morning out. He began telling unfunny jokes. After the punch line he socked me in the upper arm. After the second jab, I told him if he hit me again, I would be squeezing his testicles and not too gently. The rest of the tour he stayed away from me like the devil from holy water. This UA walked with a cane and dressed like he was going to an upscale restaurant for dinner. This included leather soled shoes. While in Berlin, we were all on a walking tour of the city in a slight rain; you guessed it, the old fart slipped and fell because of the wrong shoes. Our poor tour director had to fill out paperwork and get a medic to take a look at him. At the end of the three week tour, several of my new friends and I decided his kids sent him on the tour to give themselves a little respite from him.

  While on a bus tour from Texas to Mexico City, a couple of thoughtless UAs from the Northeast were in the group. I’m sure you’ve seen this type of tourist before — lots of baggage, binoculars, cameras, water bottles, food, rain jackets, hats, books etc. At each stop the bus had to wait for this couple as they were always late. Then when they boarded the bus, all the gear had to be stowed in the overhead bin, a process that took forever. Sitting in front of me were a couple of school teachers from Michigan who started the chant futz! futz! futz! each time this couple started their sorting and stowing. Many of us joined in, but like most UAs they didn’t realize they were the problem.

  Possibly the worst UA in my experience was a rather large man from Pensacola. While on a three week tour in the UK, this man threatened to take a flight out of the next large city and leave the tour. I told him to please do so — I’d look after his wife for him. Unfortunately, he never left. At a stop in England the man seated in front of me on the bus fell to the floor. His traveling partner yelled for help. Stepping forward was this big UA as he claimed to have had CPR training. While waiting for the ambulance he and his wife treated the man. The rest of the tour we had to continually listen to his story of how he saved the guy’s life and how he hoped the man appreciated his efforts.

  While in Cork, Ireland, I elected not to hike up to the castle and kiss the germ infested Blarney Stone. Wouldn’t you just know the big guy didn’t go up either? I took a seat in the restaurant in the middle of a long table and he plopped right across from me. When a beautiful Irish family of six asked if anyone was sitting next to me, I jumped up, smiled and introduced myself. The husband stayed with the four kids, infant to age 4 while the mother went to fetch their tea. I was having a delightful conversation with this family when the UA started to talk about himself and his life. The reason for traveling is to experience other cultures, which is damn difficult when you’re talking about yourself! More about this delightful Irish family in Chapter 15 on the United Kingdom.

  But the most disgusting thing this big UA did occurred at dinner one night; don’t remember what town we were in. At the large round table sat a neat couple from California and a young girl from NYC traveling solo, all three Jewish. This big UA brought up religion, a real no-no, and pronounced, “If you haven’t accepted Jesus Christ as your lord and savior, you’re doomed to burn in hell.” To which I retorted, “So you mean to tell me our three new friends here have no chance of going to heaven?” He agreed that was the case. I was so pissed, I jumped up and said, “You’re stupider than I thought,” and left the table.

  While on a bus tour of Paris, a woman couldn’t wait to jump off the bus and find a McDonald’s. A woman on part of my Italy tour kept asking why there weren’t any Chinese restaurants. Two countries known for some of the finest food in the world! Makes you wonder why they just don’t stay home!

  Also in Italy, a couple from VA were so obnoxious I could barely conceal my frustration. At the Vatican, the woman kept touching me and getting in my face, and correcting our tour director, telling him how much she knows. I finally stopped, put my finger in her face, and said if she laid a hand on me again, I wouldn’t be responsible for my actions. Did she apologize, no, merely related she was a former librarian and was used to getting up close and personal to make her point. The male part of this UA couple decided, while on a train to Cinque Terre, to take his shirt off and expose his fat belly.

  Another UA in Italy exhibited typical signs of alcoholism.
In a classy restaurant she yelled for the waiter to serve her wine first. Another time she fell down the steps at the hotel after making a pig of herself on free wine.

  A final note on Italy: Even though signs were posted everywhere in the Accademia Museum in Florence, featuring The David, stating absolutely no photographs, many tourists were hiding behind posts snapping away with their cell phones or iPads. They were not all Americans but were all ugly.

  On my dream trip to Australia, were three UAs — one couple from Wisconsin and a single guy from Kentucky. The couple rudely talked while the tour director gave her commentary. The first time I mentioned it to the tour director, the second time it happened, I spoke directly to them and told them if they elected to remain ignorant about other countries, have some respect for those of us who want to learn. Also, when the bus pulled into a hotel that offered free Internet service, they pushed their way off the bus to be first on the lobby computers. Ditto if there were laundry facilities, they pushed to get there first. Don’t know why, all they ever wore were jeans. The single guy drove me crazy; always wanting to sit near me on the bus and plague me with commentary about his boring life. Heard about his wife leaving him, about bugs in his house, about farming, but the best was when he asked me what was new in the paper. Each morning I brought a newspaper on board to read. When I started to mention an article he’d say, I don’t read newspapers. No kidding!

  While touring the Anne of Green Gables museum on Prince Edward Island, an UA from New Jersey sat on the porch and loudly ranted about American politics, another no no. The year was 2012, so I imagine it had something to do with the Presidential election. The gentle folks working at the museum were as taken aback as I was over his conduct.