Suzy Guese

Everyday of travel involves countless items, tools that facilitate the entire process. I don’t always pause to thank these products, nor do I always notice how instrumental they can be on my travels. It seems like a clique around Thanksgiving that Americans actually pause and consider what they are thankful for in life. And while I am thankful for friends, family, life and the like, there are just some items I will be forever indebted to on my travels. Call me a materialist, but I’ll raise a glass and a mouthful of turkey to these travel items.

A GPS on Solo Travels

They say true travelers don’t need a map, but I have yet to meet a completely true traveler. Perhaps they are all lost somewhere and have no way of telling those of us with maps, “You’re smart after all!”. I am thankful I had a GPS in Ireland to get around on my first completely solo trip. Sure, Jody and I had some rough times, like when she led me down a dead-end lane on my first day of driving on the wrong side of the road. And sure, she told me to take a potholed sidewalk near Doolin to get to Galway. When I was met with a fork in the road, she would tell me to turn right, only to see a sign that said don’t turn right. Considering that the Irish seldom put up signs to tell you not to do something and a black beauty of a horse was staring at me, almost telling me to not listen to her, I followed my instincts.

With all of the wrong turns and bad moves my GPS told me to make, she also made sure I always got to my destination. There is comfort in knowing, especially when you are alone, that someone has your back and can find the way, eventually. Without it, I think I would have spent the majority of my time on the side of the road, trying to figure out the way. If you are planning a solo trip with a vehicle, a GPS could be your saving grace. True solo travelers need a GPS.

A $40 Miraculous Tote Bag

I’m not sure there is anything this bag can’t do. I was plagued by a tragic curse of travel tote bag misfortune. Each night before a trip, I would begin packing a brand new tote bag I had purchased. The zipper would fail me. The bottom would fall out. The stitching would decide it just couldn’t keep it together. And then, I found you, my black tote bag that miraculously fits my jumbo computer and makes it feel like it is just holding feathers for my safekeeping. You hold my bursting makeup bag, computer, ridiculous airport approved Ziploc with all manner of liquids and even a smaller purse. When your strap broke on one of my travels, I doubted you. And then, I discovered your metal rings made it easy for the traveler to repair with simple tweezers. When you find your $40 miraculous tote bag, hold on to it. It’s a keeper when you travel. There is a certain security while traveling in having a bag you can trust.

Hardback Red Moleskin Notebooks

To remember travel, we document with photos and written word. Without my hardback flashy red moleskin notebooks, this would be a great challenge. Avoiding the shaky handwriting that comes on a piece of paper without proper support, I can whip this pocket-sized notebook out and go to town with documenting travel moments and memories while standing, sitting and maybe even while doing cartwheels. It seems so simple, but I am willing to cough up $10 for these little red books of memories. When I am a little old lady, they will probably make for a good laugh.

The Cup of Coffee Post Airport Security

Airports might be some of the most bittersweet places on earth. You are either incredibly excited to be going somewhere or incredibly crestfallen to be going home from an adventure. It is bittersweet to both say hello and goodbye in these places. They carry so many different meanings at different times. And perhaps the most bittersweet element to airports is airport security, where you are poked and prodded, demeaned and made into cattle. And yet, we all have to go through it to get where we are going. There is no greater relief for me than passing through security, grabbing a contemplative cup of coffee and watching the world go by on uncomfortable seating. This is the sweetest cup of coffee I buy. It relaxes those nerves of getting out of airport security alive and allows me to take a moment away from my computer and phone and just soak up all that is bittersweet about an airport.

What are a few travel items for which you are thankful? Do you treasure any strange items or cups of coffee like I do?

My sister was set to leave for England. Being a brand new doctor, it was her only time off for some 200 days. It was a trip she was anticipating with each passing day, until she received this email from the airline:

“Dear _____,

We regret to inform you that a cancellation has affected the following flights:

(Flight numbers listed)

We apologize for this disruption and any inconvenience this might cause you.

Thank you for choosing (Insert airline of your choice here).”

The message included no explanation, no phone number to call to figure out if she had been rebooked. As she put it, it was like a bad rejection letter, leaving no sign to get in contact. You weren’t selected to be important today. She received this email in the middle of the night, hours before her plane was intended to take off. In the chaos of leaving for the airport at 5 AM, she didn’t notice the airline had made this decision for no reason until reaching the check-in desk. Out of some miracle to the travel gods, the man behind the counter rebooked her, amidst a frenzy of other passengers curious as to why this could happen.

I realize other travelers have been treated poorly by the airlines, perhaps even more so than this. There should be an explanation on the email or at the very least a phone number to call to address the problem. In the process of these canceled flight rejection letters, a little bit of our love for travel dies. I always arrive to the airport incredibly early for fear of a problem, something outside my control that will impede my ability to travel. I know there are bound to be problems in any area involving massive amounts of people and big companies. Travel however is something you plan months for, you budget years for in some cases and is so dependent on certain times and certain places. If anything in that thread gets pulled, our travels can fall apart.

Looking out for airline kindness

I witnessed another lapse in airline kindness, perhaps on a different scale. While the canceled flight rejection letter no doubt disillusioned my sister and myself on an airline and way of business, I was disillusioned yet again on a recent flight back to New York City. There was a flight attendant with a Judy Dench haircut and colored-rimmed glasses. If she had a smile, I never saw it.

My mom and I boarded easily with no need for the overhead bins for we had checked our bags. A foreign man seated next to us had all the room he needed. When Ms. colored-rimmed glasses came around to close the bins, she began forcing his bin shut. She slammed it multiple times and then yelled, “Whose bag is this?! It doesn’t fit!”. The man got up silently and turned the bag as she continued to yell at him that it wouldn’t close. I don’t think he even understood exactly what she was saying. He finally turned his bag to allow the bin to close. Then, she took action again. She grabbed his smaller bag and asked him to put it under his seat. There was no lack of room in the compartment, especially since my mom and I didn’t have bags. She was just doing it to make him uncomfortable. It wasn’t necessary, just something to show power and to humiliate.

Frustrated with the airlines? Me too.

Her unkindness towards a foreigner made me cringe. If I was treated in such a way by another person in a country not my own, I couldn’t help but be soured on that country and that experience, at least for a time. This is the reason stereotypes are formed about cultures. One person in transit is unkind and conclusions are drawn in an instant.

The flight attendant wasn’t finished being unkind. She came around asking what we wanted to drink. I said, ‘Water with ice”. She quickly retorted back, “Ice or no ice?!?”. I said “Ice.”. Again she said out of further frustration, “ICE OR NO ICE?”. I nearly shouted, “ICE!” and I think it finally registered with her. She couldn’t hear me, so it was my fault. I half expected to have ice throw in my face. There is no doubt a person out there who could fill her shoes and benefit the airline, someone who loves flying and what they do.

This was clearly a case of a woman who hated what she did. She had a giant chip on her shoulder. Maybe she had had some bad experiences with passengers before that scarred her, but that is no reason to treat well-behaved passengers with indignity. Just like the “My airline broke up with me letter”, the airlines need to consider just how important their kindness can travel. The foreign man could return home with a different view of a country. The glamour and integrity of airline travel is dying. The only remaining glimmers of hope are those souls at the check-in desk, able to make miracles out of airline company fiascoes.

Have you experienced unkindness with the airlines?

Being on the road for two weeks, I have come to know American hotels. I have always loved hotels. I might not be revered like those who rough it and sleep outside in tents, but I have a deep appreciation for the simple luxuries the American hotel provides.

When you are on the road all day, stopping to sightsee, your level of fatigue skyrockets from the normal day at home. The hotel should provide respite. It should be a break so that you can recharge and begin the next day of traveling. For those not from the United States, you might not be used to some of the simple luxuries the American hotel generally provides. After staying in countless hotels and inns in Europe, I realized the separation culturally is quite clear when you look at hotel rooms. Call it American excess, but I can’t help but love these subtle luxuries at the end of my traveling day.

An Ice Machine

Americans might be the most obsessed nation in terms of ice. I can hardly drink water without it. American hotels almost always have an ice machine and a bucket waiting for you to fill whenever you have need for ice. There is something so luxurious about these machines. After a long day on the road, I want a cool drink of water. Perhaps the cups full of ice bring a little piece of home for me. Only when I travel outside of the United States is my ice situation threatened.

The Iron and Ironing Board

While not every American hotel will have an iron and ironing board, the majority of hotels on my trip have had irons and ironing boards. When you are living out of a suitcase for so long, you begin to look like a crinkled mess. No outfit is too grungy for the hotel iron. A nice press and you can feel refreshed for a night out on the town.

The Swimming Pool

When I was little, I used to cry if the hotel my family and I were staying at didn’t have a pool. I have toned down the dramatics a bit now, but I still find no greater sight at the American hotel than the glistening waters of a heavily chlorine-filled pool at night. A nice swim after spending the day in the car does wonders for the mind, body and traveling soul.

The Little Soaps

I will never get tired of opening up the hotel bathroom and seeing it stocked full with little tiny soaps and shampoos. Being a sucker for anything travel size, these to me are just evidence of my travels. You can take from this hotel or that hotel. If you run out of your shampoo on the road, never fear. The American hotel has it waiting for you.

Coffee

By and large, the hotels I have stayed at on my trip through America’s South have had both a coffee maker in the room and free unlimited coffee in the hotel lobby. When you are traveling, sleep counts go down to a bare minimum. I would rather get up and get going than sleep later. I need my coffee. While I love finding new coffee places on the road, not chains, I need that cup at the hotel to get me going.

Free Wireless Internet Access

While not all American hotels offer free wireless Internet, the good ones do. Generally, the chain hotels will have wireless for free. Small town inns are charming, but when you are spending too much time searching for a connection, you are missing out on valuable travel experiences. In Europe, I would struggle to find hotels with free wireless. I wouldn’t even stay at them if it weren’t offered. In the United States, I don’t have to check as often to see if the hotel has Internet. Most likely it does.

The Hotel Lobby

If you go to other countries, the hotel lobbies can be grand. American hotels also have hotel lobbies that generate an excitement perhaps because they are so big. Businessmen and women are huddled around computers on loud colored couches. The front desk covers with key cards and ringing phones. It is the center of travel excitement in hotel form, similar to that of the terminal at the airport. You can watch characters coming and going, lives entering and parting all in one grand room.

Have you stayed in an American hotel? What little things do you love about American hotels?

I was attempting to kill some time in Ireland. The area I had selected to stay in didn’t have a wealth of attractions. I had read about a beach nearby I could drive to, along with an intense mountain thoroughfare. I had thought I would be killing time, but in reality I was being somewhat adventurous. It was the first time I shut off the GPS and decided to just go where the road would take me, not where some squawking box told me to go.

I ultimately arrived to a deserted beach, or so I thought. The beach was set up in such a fashion that you had to walk several minutes to reach the water. I put my car in park and started walking. Suddenly chills came over me. I was far from my destination and there wasn’t a soul around. I had a thought. If something were to happen to me here, no one would know. When you have an overzealous imagination, you quickly hightail it back to the car.

The Beach in Question

Trust in Intuition

That beach had an air of the sinister. Something wasn’t right. After reaching my car, I sat down and locked up, ready to get going. This time I would punch in my path to avoid the adventurous. Just as I was ready to get going, a drifter of some kind walked by my car. We were the only two in the area, unless you count the many less than cute looking dogs following him. He sneered at me as I avoided eye contact behind the glass window. I quickly started my engine and I was off to the races. My intuition was right.

There are certain words of wisdom every parent seems to utter. Park by a light. Don’t tell strangers where you are going. Always be aware. Bring a sweater. Those pieces of advice follow me when I travel. When I get adventurous, my intuition can sometimes shut me down. In the end, intuition is probably a traveler’s best safety tool, a better judge of when something is adventurous or just plain stupid.

Stupidity and the Badge of Adventurous Honor

As travelers we are taught to be adventurous, to throw caution to the wind and find experiences not in a guide. But when does being adventurous turn into that stupidity? You won’t find me hanging out a bus station at night, all by my lonesome. You won’t see me wandering around hardly anywhere at night alone when I travel. You see, I like my life. I enjoy living and I have to wonder when travelers sneak into countries they aren’t supposed to or ride those bus routes marked as the most dangerous in the world, if they aren’t just doing it for some sort of badge of adventurous honor. I survived the sticky border guard situation at gunpoint. I have adventures.

In Portugal, I decided I was going to be adventurous with my eating. I generally don’t do this when I travel. I will try things, but I would never order from places that look like they are about as clean as an Italian sidewalk. Somewhere along my adventurous eating route in Portugal, I got a parasite. Much to my displeasure just a week before I was supposed to head home, I laughed about the improbability of it all. I am a careful person in every regard and when I let the thrill of adventure take ahold of me, I came home with a parasite, from Western Europe of all developed places. While trying to just let travel come to me in its purest form, I didn’t consider what less than pleasant ramifications could follow.

When Adventure Is Just Right

Are we all seeking out adventures just to tell a good story? Do we get ourselves into life threatening situations to brag how we survived? Part of it, on being adventurous, I don’t think you should try too hard at it. You should travel how you will. If the improbable, like the parasite in Portugal develops, it was an adventure. If you decide to do something while traveling just for the story with your life and safety at risk, you might just be plain stupid.

Claire of Travel Funny Travel Light recently wrote of an adventurous situation she found herself in in Nicaragua. Like Claire, I tend to over-think unexpected situations when I travel, assuming the worst, yet hoping for the best. In the end, her story is one of adventure. She survived. I guess sometimes to be adventurous you just have to trust in the situation. I remember having a conversation with a doctor from Kosovo while waiting on a train to Graz. She could have had bad intentions, plans to rob me, but the encounter was just the right adventure. We parted ways and I trusted in the adventure.

The Adventure of Drinking Wine With Travel Friends

Adventure doesn’t have to be dramatic. It doesn’t have to be a badge for bragging rights, an Indiana Jones plot in the making. Adventure is the simple act of going, of leaving home and seeing something different in the world and in yourself. It doesn’t need to be grand or life threatening. It can be as basic as talking with that doctor from Kosovo while waiting on a train, knowing full well she could rob you, but that’s the adventure.

Where do you draw the line on when being adventurous errs on the stupid and careless side?

In the film Come September, Rock Hudson plays a wealthy businessman, who every year, heads off to his villa in Italy for September. He decides he can’t wait until September and arrives early, only to find that his assistant taking care of the Italian villa has turned it into a 5 star hotel when he isn’t in the country. You can imagine the hilarity. It is a Rock Hudson movie after all.

I have always loved this movie, mostly for its setting in Italy. What I didn’t realize is that old Rock was right. September is the perfect time to travel. For me, September is almost more of a January, a beginning of the year. Perhaps it is due to the  school speed limit signs I am now starting to notice again, lighting up after three months of darkness. Most of my life so far has been spent in school, where August signaled the end of summer and September was the beginning. Luckily, I am no longer in school, but September still has the sentiment of beginning a new year. The weather starts to change.  Routines are altered. Goals are set.

Like Rock Hudson’s character Robert Talbot, I can’t wait until September. After a relatively quiet summer, I am ready to head to my villa, my paradise somewhere on the road. At this point, I wouldn’t even mind if I had an assistant who turned my apartment into a hotel when I am away.

My villa in Italy, or someone's house

This quiet summer has stirred up a jealousy in me, one that comes while reading about some other traveler’s travels. Tickets were being purchased. Itineraries were planned down to the last minute. When you aren’t traveling, it can seem like everyone else is. But we only present the face we want people to see, the one we are proud of, not the areas we are struggling. I had enough of imitation, placing myself in someone’s shoes. You can only feel sorry for yourself so long before you realize, you don’t need a lot of money to have valuable travel experiences.  If you want something, you have to accomplish it. Your jealousy or admiration cannot.

While I wouldn’t mind owning a villa in Italy I can frequent every September like Hudson’s character, I am anticipating September, the beginning of something I hope to be truly great. For me this is my January, the start of an adventure. I will be flying to the glamorous destination of….Tulsa, Oklahoma. A cheap flight from Denver to Tulsa has allowed me to meet up with a friend in Arkansas and head out to explore North and South Carolina.

I have been to both states before, but at a very young age. I remember bits and pieces here and there, but not with the clarity I would like. We will drive out for at least two weeks to explore this part of the United States, most likely departing on September 9^th. The trip will go through Tennessee, North Carolina, South Carolina and possibly a little bit of Georgia. I will then return back to Denver and hopefully make a trip up to New York City for a few days. I am still in the planning stages, but I hope to have a detailed itinerary up once I do sort everything out. And like that, September will be filled with travel, a trend I hope to carry into October.

Ready to hit the road, wherever it might lead

There they are, the “big” travel plans for September. I don’t know exactly where I am going and what I will be doing at this point, but I do know I can’t wait for September to come.

Do you have travel plans for September? Can you recommend any places I must see on my Southern US road trip?

For my birthday, they hand me a big slice of lasagna and a bejeweled tiny picture frame, something I would have loved at 14 years old. Having celebrated very few birthdays away from home, in that Florence apartment, home didn’t seem so far off. Over a year later, I walk into a café in Clifden, Ireland. As the chatty owner tells me about the state of Ireland, of its troubles and triumphs, she asks me how long I am here. I say I’m “just visiting”, and with that I’m gone, out of her life and seemingly Ireland’s in a few days time.

These two travel scenarios could not be more different. In Florence, I lived. In Ireland, I visited. Sometimes we travel for different reasons, but the underlying goal appears to be assimilation to some degree. We want to be apart of something we are not, something so far removed from home. There are aspects to destinations you only see while visiting and facets to locales you only see while living.

Just Living

Having only lived in two places for an extended period of time outside of Denver, Colorado, my perspective on actually living in my travels is somewhat limited. However, I do know the benefits to living abroad, staying longer than a round-the-world whirlwind, where a place only warrants a few nights here, a few days there.

Only through living in a destination do you see the good, the bad and the ugly. In Italy, there were aspects to the country I had never noticed when visiting, annoyances that even soured me on my experience to a certain degree. I hated the expensive utilities. I hated people cutting me in line at the supermarket. I hated not being able to walk down the street without a catcall. Most importantly, there were things I hated about a place I thought perfect. When you live in a destination, you see these things. Whether that is a good thing, I can’t say. It depends on the person. Do you want to be blissfully ignorant or ignorantly blissful?

And with the bad and ugly of living in a dream destination, there is still that good, the good that overrides the bad and ugly. My first experience of the good came while living in Sorrento with a host family. I left in the early hours of the morning, back to Colorado, but not empty-handed. My nonna made sure to hand me a jar of artichokes she knew I enjoyed. A jar of artichokes is the good, symbolic of a connection you only get with time.

Just Visiting

And the opposing council, just visiting, is not all bad and ugly. We can’t live everywhere. Seeing something is better than not seeing anything at all. When I planned my trip to Ireland, I wanted to make sure to spend at least a month traveling around the entire country. I spent a few days here, a few nights there. I walked into people’s lives and walked right out of them. I saw, for the most part, the good, especially when three businessmen literally helped me back out of a corner I could not get out of on Ireland’s tiniest lane. I saw the bad when someone decided my money was theirs in Belfast. And I saw the ugly as shop owner after shop owner lamented to me the problems with the Irish economy.

In just visiting so many places, I realize I am just getting small doses of living. If I had more time, I would use it, but sadly there is a lot of world to see and not a lot of time. Quality and quantity shouldn’t be confused while just visiting. Marathon travels will never lend those connections living in a destination does.

A bejeweled picture frame, a jarful of artichokes and time bring me to the conundrum of just visiting. As I plot my travels for fall, I will be “just visiting” for time and money don’t allow for anything more. However in the just visiting, I will  find the good, the bad and ugly, and hopefully a few jars of artichokes and bejeweled picture frames if I am lucky.

Do you feel limited when you “just visit” places?

A dreaded activity for many and a welcome problem for few, I have always enjoyed packing for trips. As I started to recall just what I deemed appropriate for the Ultimate Female Packing List for Italy on Her Packing List this week, I remembered some of my painful packing errors. While I had tried to push those incidents out of my memory, they are always there, tugging at me and reminding me there is no such thing as a travel packing pro. Packing is a something I think you don’t get down with one trip, or even two. It takes a great deal of time to master, and even when you have gone pro, you still have those items you never wear or the shoes that kill your feet.

Perhaps in hopes of releasing all of that bad packing karma from countless errors throughout my travels, I have assembled some of the moments when I have faltered in the packing department. I always go back to Ötzi, the Iceman found preserved along with his belongings in a glacier between Austria and Italy. His backpack along with the items he packed for his journey is now immortalized in a museum. What you carry does in fact carry you. If I tumbled into a glacier with my suitcase, I wouldn’t want anyone to see these packing mistakes in a museum.

If I can successfully lift a bag over my head, I can bring it.

Three Suitcases For 5 Months in Sicily

I might be most ashamed of this packing mistake. I was headed to Sicily for a semester in college, my first time abroad for an extended period of time. I could not pare down what I wanted to bring, so much so, I brought three suitcases. Arriving to that small airport in Catania, I looked mostly ridiculous as my ride laughed and mumbled in Sicilian dialect. While I had a wealth of options that semester for clothes, it made it next to impossible to move all three of those bags.

Lesson Learned: Even for long trips, don’t ever bring more bags than you have hands.

Look at all of those unnecessary bags!

The Shoes That Weren’t Made For Walking in England

My first few moments in Europe for the first time were not spent enjoying the beauty of London, but rather enjoying a London shoe store. At the last minute, at 8 years old mind you, I threw in a pair of shoes I desperately wanted to bring. Why? I don’t know, as they were gingham-printed shoes. I had never worn these killer shoes. They attacked my feet and didn’t make walking possible. I found myself in a London shoe store, buying the ugliest of shoes with my mom as we tried to figure out European sizes.

Lesson Learned: Never pack shoes you have never worn before.

Packing For The Season I Wanted

Just because you are in a place that you think of as warm year round, doesn’t mean it will be. When I studied in Florence for a semester, I thought the extent of their winter would be a little rain but bearable temperatures. Just like my other packing errors, this thinking did not work in my favor when I froze February through April in one of Florence’s closest winters.

Lesson Learned: Don’t pack for the season you are hoping for, but rather check the weather before you start loading up your bag with flip-flops and T-Shirts.

All of The High Heels I Have Ever Packed

I have finally learned that high heels and traveling simply don’t mix. However, for a time, I would always through in a pair or two. At the end of a trip, I would find high heels were always the items I promised myself I would never pack again. I never end up wearing them. Cobblestone or no cobblestone, high heels are not meant for walking in a new place.

Lesson Learned: If you are not a high heel person at home, you are not a high heel person when you travel.

The Cheap Tote Bag Problem

For a while in my traveling career, I would purchase a new tote bag to carry my computer, wallet and other important items. The night before I would try packing this tote bag and always have some sort of zipper fiasco. Whether it was not big enough to fit all of my important items or poor with weight distribution so much so I thought I would lose an arm lugging this monster around, cheap tote bags are never the way to go.

Lesson Learned: Just like shoes, try out your main bag you will be toting the majority of the time before you take off. It if it kills your arm at home or has a cheap zipper, it will break or cost you an arm.

What is your worst packing error? Have you ever repeated the same packing mistake twice?