Tag Archives: travel

The delusions and reality of a life abroad

Hi, I’m Stacey, and I’m a single twenty-something who has been living abroad for the past six years. I can hear you now. Wow, you say, six years! You’ve been travelling for six years!? That’s so amazing, you say. I’m so jealous. I see you there, reading this in a sneaky hidden tab in your browser window while you should be working, beginning to daydream about this idyllic life. Life abroad. The overseas adventure. You know the one – waking up each morning in a hotel overlooking the Seine, in a king-size bed with crisp white sheets, wandering downstairs for an espresso at 10am, served by a handsome man who greets you by name and winks as he hands you your change.

I love the romantic idea you have of life abroad. It’s what motivates you to quit that boring job, to buy that plane ticket, to pack your bags, and to GO. When you’re daydreaming from behind your computer screen, you don’t want the truth. The truth is this. Some days, i am your mirror image, bleakly staring into the computer screen wishing my workday was over. The truth is that this morning I hit the snooze button eight times before prying myself out of the single bed with the broken springs that barely fits in my exorbitantly expensive room in a dingy flat that I share with an eccentric Venezuelan ESOL student called Hector. The truth is that I am currently staring back at you into that computer screen, but instead of daydreaming about overseas adventures, I’m daydreaming about tomorrow’s lunch, which, as tomorrow is payday, is guaranteed to be an improvement on today’s stale bread and nutella ‘sandwich’.

This is life abroad, and it is everything you hope it will be and more.

You see, there is a difference between living abroad and going on holiday. When you’re on holiday, you’re escaping reality. Money is high, hotels are nice, you have saved up enough cash to be served each meal, and your cell phone is most certainly off.

Now don’t get me wrong here. I’m making it sound like living abroad is a nightmare, but it’s not. It is an amazing, life-changing experience.

It’s not a holiday, it’s life.

Life, with all of its ups and downs, hiccups and hilarity, and when it’s lived in a culture completely different from your own there are added challenges. And unexpected joys. This life requires sacrifices, but is punctuated with moments and experiences and beauty and relationships that take your breath away, instances that make you stop and close your eyes and whisper ‘thank you,’ knowing that you’ve just lived a moment that is now painted indelibly on the canvas of your memory. You’ll admire the masterpiece for the rest of your days, marvelling at how dull and blank it might have been, had you not chased that daydream of life abroad. It may not always be glamorous, but I can tell you without a shadow of a doubt: it’s worth it.

Photo: Hamed Saber

If I ever win the lottery

A beautiful view in Italy

If I ever win the lottery, the very first thing I’m doing is buying an international iPhone and then calling my wife’s job from it. I will ask her to nicely pack her things and tell the powers that be how she will not be returning tomorrow or the next day or the next day or ever. I would then rent 6 limos and pay 6 friends to ride in them to the lottery office. This will deter news cameras while I roll in the back lot with my Toyota Echo. I will then collect my winnings, buy 3 first-class, one-way tickets to Naples, Italy and call my dad. My dad is very understanding and would ask the minimal amount of questions.

On the way to the airport, I will call a little bed ‘n breakfast in Conca De Marini named Amalfi Residence and book their ‘sunflower suite’ for 1 month. I will tell the owner, Luigi, to secure us a limousine ride from Naples.

Of course my in-laws and immediate family will be a little worried and I will tell them to not worry because when I return I will pay off all their mortgages. And I will explain it all to them later.

When my wife and son and I get to Italy we will do no work. No work at all. We will dream up fantastic day trips and taste all the different meats from local shops. We will only buy what we need for the day and we will only buy from the people in our neighborhood. We will take time to savor. We will take time to drink and time to laugh. We will look at our son and each other as rare gifts. Gifts not everyone can enjoy. We will go home at 1 for siesta and take a nap after a meal. We will get a tan and lose the bags under our eyes. We will learn the language and the culture and we will appreciate it with infinite respect. We will make friends with our neighbors and respect their property as ours. We will never litter or lose regard for even the sidewalks as they are a part of our lives and our lives are to be lived with robust adventure and desire for flavorful fellowship. We will never get take-out or use a drive thru. We will never use a microwave. We will sit. We will enjoy. We won’t be hell-bent on safety. We will watch others smoke next to us in a restaurant. We will not complain or tell them to stop because we would not want them to tell us to stop doing something we enjoyed.

We will do that for a month. Then we’ll return home and hook up all the details of our new-found fortune. We will pay off our parents’ debts and our siblings’ debts. We will teach ways to properly handle money. We will put enough away so we never have to worry again and put the rest toward giving.

What is ‘Adventure’?

‘An adventure is defined as an exciting or unusual experience; it may also be a bold, usually risky undertaking, with an uncertain outcome. The term is often used to refer to activities with some potential for physical danger, such as skydiving, mountain climbing and or participating in extreme sports. The term also broadly refers to any enterprise that is potentially fraught with physical, financial or psychological risk, such as a business venture, a love affair, or other major life undertakings.’
(‘Adventure’, Wikipedia, the free encyclopedia)

When I think adventure, I think khaki. I think Indiana Jones. I think old double prop sea planes.

But when I try to define it, I think of adventure as what happens to you when you pursue a course of action that puts you at risk, especially when it is outside the normal routine of your everyday life. I don’t just mean physical risk. I mean the risk of embarrassment, the risk of getting dirty, the risk of being laughed at, the risk of being stranded, the risk of creating an awkward situation, the risk of failure, the risk of rejection.

Last year, I made it one of my goals to go on a personal adventure once a month. Go mountain bike trails I haven’t biked before, or walk around part of the city I’m not familiar with, or rescue my wife from an evil voodoo priest who is about to pull her still-beating heart out of her chest.

I haven’t made that a goal this year, but having worked that philosophy into my life a little, I was more quick to say yes, or click yes, to the opportunity to go see an old friend who I really don’t know all that well, in a city I’ve never been to, in a country who may not send a plane for me if the entire civilization breaks down around me, by a train I’m not familiar with, for an amount of money that seems ridiculously prohibitive, without my wife who keeps me from doing things like forgetting my immigration form on the train or arriving at the customs line three minutes before they close it.

And – if you are good at guessing endings then you already know – it was epic.

Travels with tea

Steve Evans (flickr.com/photos/babasteve/3618157129/)

I remember my first walk through the old city of Jerusalem.  My body was jet-lagged, walking with two of my best friends.  We started going down famed King David Street, and before long it was a scene I had never seen before.  The streets were so narrow and crowded that you had to squeeze your way through.  The men were yelling loudly in Arabic, and some of the women were fully veiled in dark black.  Lining the streets as far as the eye could see were small garage shops selling wooden camels, hookahs, and fancy chess boards.  For the record, camels do not live anywhere around Jerusalem.

The second the shopkeepers realized that three Americans were walking towards them, we heard a constant echo of a broken English, “Hello, hello, shopping?  Shopping?  English, shopping?  Hello?”   After about twenty minutes wandering lost through this new chaos we arrived at a bright green door that led to a clearing.  It seemed like the best way out and we were ready to leave the claustrophobic streets behind.  When we were just a few feet away from walking through the door, we were turned away by two confused armed guards yelling harshly at us in Arabic and pointing their guns up in the air…. Read more…

deadhorse: travels of amateur point-&-click cinematographers

[VIDEO] In his travels to Deadhorse for work, Geoff examines the act of travel and what it means to him and us.

pilgrimage: a better way to go

Next time you’re moving through the customs line of an international airport, declaration card filled out, passport in hand, and the customs official asks you that million dollar question, ‘Are you traveling for business or pleasure,’ try telling her neither, you’re on pilgrimage thank you very much…. Read more…

What bold restless extremes do you carry inside?


(A Conversation Between a Writer and Her Muse)

Muse: What about your deepest desires contradict themselves?

Self: My deepest desires? My contradictions? Muse, there are so many. They drive me crazy! I want to travel the world and explore and write.

Muse: And?

Self: I want to be rooted, in one place, living quietly, with a dog and maybe an axe wielding male companion…. Read more…