Tag Archives: travel

Sep 29 2013
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Informative, Instructive

Blimey! What’s that you said?

DSCN0795smallSo here’s the thing about travel. It’s complicated. First there’s the security line with all of its rules and the decisions you have to make. Do I take my shoes off or don’t I? Should I throw out my water or drink it, a decision I may later regret should the seat belt light stay on too long after take-off.  Was it a 1 litre bag or a bag of 1 litre bottles that I’m allowed? Should I opt for the machine or the pat down? Once you get through all of that there’s the airport signage to decipher and the total recall you’ll need to try to remember whether your gate was B39 or D93 which, given the long and opposing corridors in many terminals, could significantly impact your chances of making it onto your plane.

Now as a shallow person I do my best to live my life in a way that is as uncomplicated as possible. For that reason I have a distinct preference, once I make my way through all of the previously mentioned chaos, to disembark at a location where I am able to understand what is being said.  And while I can read, write and say “the house is near the garden” in Hebrew, I’m not sure that qualifies as a second language. As a result, I am most comfortable in my native English. Which, imho, made my recent foray to London a particularly good choice.  At least I thought it did.

Let me start by saying that having grown up during the “British Invasion” (no, not the 1812 one) I was aware that I would find some discrepancies in the meanings of words between my homeland and the Mother country. Face it, how many times did one have to hear Mr. McCartney refer to his “blokes” before realizing he was talking about the gentlemen standing beside him. And it’s pretty common knowledge that a “lift” is something that elevates you and  a  “brolly” is used for protection from the rain. Of course it didn’t take me too long to figure out that at the end of every meal when I politely inquired as to the location of the “washroom”, there was a reason for the funny look I got as the server wondered why it was that I wanted to bathe before going home. And I will admit the use of “toilet”, in this case, is much more direct and to the point. I can’t say however, that I was always prepared for the challenges I faced as I encountered a rather heretofore unfamiliar version of the language I speak each and every day in my home and native land.

Now don’t get me wrong. Some of the local banter is rather intuitive. I mean I  get why they call their subway the “tube” because the little round cars that you can barely stand up in live up to the name. And it doesn’t take much to understand why the “lady” on the loudspeaker repeatedly reminds you to “mind the gap” since if you don’t, you’ll find yourself removing the wheels of your luggage from the rather significant space that exists between the train and the platform in the 10 or so seconds you have to exit your car. “Take out” and “take away” mean pretty much the same on either side of the pond although the latter seems infinitely more popular than the former. The same can be said about walking on a “footpath” because you’ll actually think you’re on a  “sidewalk” even if one sounds slightly more “paved” than the other.

Smooth sailing? A cakewalk? Think you’ve got this carpet beat? Well hold on ‘cause the ride’s not over. It’s not all peaches and cream and at times it gets downright confusing. So you’re at the theatre and you feel like a little popcorn. You ask for the “concessions” and a nice young man lets you know that senior’s tickets are available at a discount through the wicket. Which I suppose is the true meaning of the word. Then there’s the time you want “fries” and have to ask for “chips” or you want “chips” have to ask for “crisps”. But I was particularly flummoxed by the tendency to make less more by turning “Yield” into “Give Way” and “Detour” into “Diverted Traffic”, which seems slightly more complicated not to mention the resultant need for larger signs. But all of this pales to what you might face when you want to eat. So listen carefully.

When confronted with “bubble and squeak” on a breakfast menu all I can say is “Don’t order it! Just don’t order it!” because it has nothing to do with either of those things. Which brings me to a little tidbit I would like to share with you should you decide to venture into a land where you have little experience with the spoken word. This is important. If you learn nothing else before you go, learn to say “chicken” in whatever language(s) you think you may encounter. Here’s why. One evening you may find yourself comfortably seated in a four star restaurant and upon carefully perusing the menu settle upon something called “rognons de veau et champignons à la sauce moutarde” because you remember a little of your high school french but clearly not enough. When it arrives at your table a very polite server looks directly at you and says “the kidney is for you madam?”. Your look of astonishment will tell the tale but, even so, the lovely woman from Miami sitting at the next table won’t be able to stop herself from proclaiming “I wondered if that was what you really wanted”. To which you reply (but only in your head) “Well if you knew, why didn’t you open up your mouth and say something when it mattered?!” all the while wishing you had stuck with the chicken. Perhaps however, that’s a story for another day.

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Aug 31 2013
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Informative

Shallow People Travel Too

london buttonYou may recall in the not too distant past that I dedicated one of my posts to the solicitation of potential shallow topics from my readers. While I can’t say I had an overwhelming response, I did receive a couple of ideas that seemed reasonable for me to pursue. As a matter of fact, there was one suggestion that stood out from the others as it was truly serendipitous. The idea was that I write about travel for the savvy, shallow person. Now I think it has been long established that I meet the “shallow” criteria and while I am not savvy about everything I am about some things, enough to say I’ve got that characteristic in the bag as well. But perhaps most importantly, I do travel a fair bit and as luck, and perhaps fate would have it, I just happen to be in London, making my way around town as a tourist, so I think I can safely say that I am fully qualified to wax eloquently on the subject at hand.

When I first decided that I could write a “how to” for the savvy, shallow traveller, I had in mind something like a “top 10” (you know how I love those lists) of tips. However, now that I am on a jaunt myself it seems that perhaps a better approach is to simply recount some of the experiences that I am having, as these alone should provide a guide of sorts to those who are so inclined to follow in my footsteps. And as expected, it turns out I’m a pretty good shallow traveller. So here, perhaps, is the start of a kind of series that follows me as I make my way through the rather crowded streets of London.

After three days of running around  like chickens with our heads cut off I can absolutely recommend that the first step to ensuring your travel is as shallow as possible is to slip into your nearest tourist information centre and ask to purchase a “City Pass” for whichever city you happen to be in. There’s a pretty good chance that your city will have one, particularly if there happens to be a river running through the centre, an original “settlement” and at least one national museum or monument. You see, what this pass will allow you to do is visit a multitude of sites over a specified number of days, for one seemingly low fee. There’s a pretty good chance that the booklet you receive with this pass will outline for you the remarkable savings to be accrued by following their suggested itinerary and by doing so you will ensure that you not only visit the most touristy of all sites in the city but you will do so at a pace that prevents you from getting to know even these on an intimate basis. In other words, you’ll likely spend more time in the gift shop which will be strategically placed between you and the exit than you will at the attraction. Which is not such as bad thing as it is there you will pick up a postcard or two so you can remember where you have been.

It’s entirely possible that the first stop on your sightseeing marathon might be an art gallery of some sort. In our case, we chose to visit the Tate Modern, a collection housed in a rather imposing building on the banks of the Thames. Now I have been known to appreciate the works of the likes of Warhol, Lichtenstein and Salvador Dali. At the same time I must admit that on occasion, while working my way through the many rooms of a gallery such as this one, I think silently to myself that I too could paint red lines on a white canvas but no one would pay me substantial sums of money to hang it on their wall. I do my best to be tolerant and understanding though until I come across a work of art that I simply cannot understand. On this day it was a mirror. That’s right, just an ordinary mirror. The idea behind this “work of art” is to allow patrons to reflect on what they see in the mirror without having an image imposed upon them by the artist. Now I might be shallow but I’m thinking that I do this every morning when I get up and go to the bathroom. So I was having a little trouble grappling the exact meaning of the work.

Nonetheless, as I stood and watched people walk by I had to admit that the mirror garnered a fair bit of attention and I’m pretty sure there were a few people who, like me, were kicking themselves for not coming up with the idea. But the longer I stood in front of the mirror watching all of the reactions the more I thought about the exhibit and somewhat surprisingly, I came up with an idea of my own. You see, most of the people who stood in front of the mirror decided to take a picture of themselves standing in front of the mirror. What if, I thought, I could capture the images of the people who had stopped to reflect on the images of themselves? What if I stood behind them and took a picture of them taking pictures of themselves? Would that not make me an artist as well? So that’s what I did and here are some of the results.

Mirrir2Mirrir1

I’ll be the first to admit I’m no Michael Angelo but come on, it was an art gallery! Not exactly a home away from home for a shallow gal. So here’s a hint. If, while on your travels, you find yourself outside your zone of comfort, try to come up with ways to amuse yourself. You never know what hidden talents you might uncover.

I’ll be back as soon as my heels heal with more great tips for the savvy, shallow traveller.

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Sep 23 2012
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Informative

What’s in my bucket?

Red bucketThese days there’s a lot of talk about bucket lists. It seems to me that the concept became particularly popular after a movie about a couple of old guys who wanted to do a bunch of things that no one else wanted them to do. They wrote them down, hence the formation of the “list” and checked them off when they were done. More recently, on one of my frequent trips to Costco, I noticed that there are books being written about all of the things we need to do and places we need to visit before we die. I suppose they are relatively harmless, although I do wonder if identifying 10,000 “can’t miss” wonders of this earth might be a little excessive and a somewhat ambitious accomplishment to expect of anyone during one’s relatively short lifetime.

Even so, if that’s where it all ended I probably wouldn’t be writing about this today. But as I started to research the “bucket list” concept I was rather shocked to discover that the internet is chock full of instructive sites designed to not only help you build, but also track the completion of your list. As a matter of fact, and this kind of surprised me, there are sites where people share their lists to help others who I guess, can’t come up with stuff to do on their own. Seems to me that piggybacking on someone else’s list is a little suspect but, and I’ve said it before, who am I to judge? To top things off, tonight as I am writing this post, I am keeping one eye on a movie where a lovely, but of course dying woman, is managing to finish off her list in the face of a rather imposing deadline. Given the overwhelming evidence I am convinced that this whole thing has become rather ubiquitous and even so, I can’t seem to recall ever having put together such a list for myself.

I do have to admit however, that I was rather intrigued by the scope of “things to do” that my internet friends (I feel as though I can call them that since they are sharing some of their innermost, lifelong desires with me) want to achieve before they die. Certainly travel takes center stage on lots of these lists informed, I am sure, by those “10,000 places” books. Stonehenge, the Eiffel Tower and Niagara Falls are favourite, ultimate destinations for many. There are some rather mundane items, such as “learning to knit “or “eating a Pop Tart” and other more lofty goals like “donating to a women’s shelter” or “helping a homeless person”. Some people want to focus on improving themselves by “becoming more positive”, “running a marathon” or “quitting the insidious tobacco weed”, all commendable and likely realistic goals if you ask me. Unlike the person who wants to “meet a unicorn”, which I believe is much less likely to happen and can only end in disappointment and a sense of failure, leaving me to wonder why anyone would intentionally bring this upon themselves.

There are however, items on these bucket lists that I find a little confusing. Like the woman who wants to be “homeless for a week”. Seems to me that you are either homeless or you’re not. And if you’re not, well why would you want to be? My guess is that a real homeless person would never add this to their list. And what about the woman who wants to “jump off a moving train”? It wasn’t at the bottom of her list but I’m thinking that it should be because there’s a pretty good chance that it’s the last thing she is ever going to do.

After reading through all of the lists I’m beginning to think that I might be one of a very few who doesn’t have a bucket list, which probably isn’t so surprising since it’s just not the kind of thing that shallow people tend to do. Let’s face it, I have enough trouble writing this blog once a week so I’m certainly not about to commit to a whole whack of other things that I have to do. Nonetheless, I’ve thought about it and have come to the conclusion that there is one item I want to put in my bucket. And here it is. I want to win the lottery. This is not some passing fancy, a frivolous , “oh wouldn’t that be nice” wish. No, I really want to win the lottery. I know you think that the ability to accomplish this goal is out of my hands but perhaps no more so than the person who wants to “witness a miracle” which, btw, was also on the list of the dying woman in the movie, making it, in my eyes anyway, a somewhat legitimate bucket list item. Maybe it would help if I just rephrase and say I want to “witness the miracle of winning the lottery”. I figure once that happens it will be a lot easier for me to make the rest of my list.

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