Tuesday, November 7, 2017

In-town touring

Because Life Is One Beautiful Trip

I started One Beautiful Trip to document my travels. Some of my favorite trips are right here in my own backyard. When friends come to visit Charleston, I get a chance to play tour guide. This week, my Gypsy Sister and her husband, Oh Patient Man, flew in from Dallas to spend some time chilling out at my place. 

Sure, I took them to some typical tourist spots: The Market, The Battery; but we also hit up a few offbeat venues.

Cemetery behind the Circular Church in Charleston.

Nothing says Good Times, like a stone angel.
Gypsy Sister (GS) shares my rather macabre love of cemeteries. 


Yoga! Who doesn't want to get sweaty on vacation?

Just like millenials, we gotta take the post-yoga-selfie. Did I mention it was HOT yoga?
Then, it's off to a car show. Cause that's what Chicks do.


GS patiently acts as my personal photographer for my vintage fashion blog. The ReStylist. Did I mention she is a Saint?

I would only pose next to cars that matched my outfit. Seriously. I am that nutty.

My dream ride
Aren't they the cutest couple?
Gypsy Sister and, her hubby, Oh Patient Man.
 Miss them already.

Friday, May 19, 2017

Wanderlust

Life is one beautiful trip.


Where should I go next? I've barely unpacked from my last trip and I am looking forward to the next. 


I am literally climbing the walls here.


I love Charleston. This is my home. My heart is here. But Florida is calling. A friend in Miami has invited me to visit. Sure, I could fly down in a couple of hours, but driving seems like so much more fun. I will pass through Savannah, and perhaps spend the night in St. Augustine. Then on to Miami, home of Art Deco Architecture. According to Nat Geo Travel, there are 800 historically significant structure's in Miami Beach's Art Deco District.

Sounds like it is time for some comfy shoes and a big hat.



Stay tuned.


Friday, May 12, 2017

Outtakes and takeaways

Life is one beautiful trip.
 
7 selfies later, we finally got a picture without our hair in our eyes.
We are left with a few random thoughts about our trip. OK, I have many, many random thoughts throughout the day. Let’s start with why I write this blog.
  • I am a pathological writer. I write for a living and at the end of the day, when it is time to unwind and relax–I write some more.
  • The blog is a way of remembering details. I’ve already had to ask Joelle, “Which road was the really windy one?” Meaningful experiences last in my memory, but specifics do not. “Oh, what was her name?” I look back on old blog posts all the time and relive special moments.
  • I hope to inspire you. So many people are waiting to start living. They are beginning their careers, or they have children, or they don’t have the money, or they are waiting to retire. Traveling is like having a child; there is never a perfect time, but you never regret it. Take off on that adventure before you become even more bogged down with responsibility. Go before your knees get creaky and you hesitate to climb the rocks. Just think of the stories you will have to tell at cocktail parties. The earth does not stop spinning because you have taken a week (or even two!) off. I have not gone into bankruptcy or lost clients. My house was not foreclosed. The world was still here when I got back. But I look at it a bit differently, a bit more blessedly detached.


Useful tools, and stuff we didn’t use
 
Carrying all those bags clearly twisted my spine. What the heck? 
Headlamp: We freakin’ love our headlamps. I felt like a real chic geek when I sported my headlamp to walk to the public restroom at one of our campgrounds. They were useful in moving around the van at night, and you can read by the light of the headlamp, too. Cheap and fun purchase.

Geek chic
Two types of shoes: Managed the entire trip with nothing more than a pair of cheap tennis shoes and flip flops. I’ve had expensive hiking boots in the past, and they were heavy and hurt my feet. They didn’t protect me from anything. 

Sleeping bags: Even though we wound up spending every night in the van which came with linens, we really appreciated having the bags at night for extra warmth. It was so cold in the mornings, my glasses fogged up when I first put them on. The bags are super light, plus easy-to-pack and carry.

Tent: Did not wind up using the tent on this trip. We wanted to be prepared for a spontaneous night under the stars, but the pop top on the van felt just like a tent anyway, with the canvas sides and zip windows. Plus, we encountered so many high winds during this trip, assembling the tent would have been very frustrating. Doable but exhausting.

The luxurious mezzanine level. Room with a view.
Food: A little planning went a long way. Very happy I brought my own granola from Charleston. Having a healthy snack on hand reduced the temptation to pick up quick junk. I did grab an airport yogurt and it was ridiculously expensive. Stocking the van also decreased the downtime and expense of pulling off for meals. We really enjoyed our impromptu picnics at the marina and along the trail. We saved money on breakfast and lunch, so that we could indulge a little bit at dinner.

Lunch on the go
Hardly roughing it when Christina sends along gourmet truffles.
Laptop: Joelle did not bring hers so that she could completely disconnect from work. She made a couple of calls for ease of mind and spent the rest of the trip mellow and happily cut off. I brought my new 12” MacBook, which fits easily into my backpack. My laptop is as vital as an internal organ for me. I did a little bit of work on this trip, which I don’t mind at all. I created my career around this model. I wanted a way to earn a living that was completely transportable and I have achieved that goal. There were a couple of delayed responses due to signal difficulties, but nothing insurmountable.

Getting charged up in the wilderness

Writing by the campfire 
Coffee: As long as we have coffee, we can endure anything. When we picked up Steady Betty and found the French press in the back, I was over the moon. The folks at Vintage Safari Wagons are my kind of people. Clearly, they are people of great taste and discernment. Coffee by the campfire is the best coffee in the world. On our last trip, we used a marble enamel percolator. I also packed a Stanley French press thermos. Clearly Stanley has great taste, too. There is no camping scenario which precludes coffee.

 



I may be sarcastic and cynical, yet I’m also pretty sappy. My biggest takeaways are deeply emotional. I spent a great many miles in 2015 traveling alone. (Well, Scooter was with me, and he is a great listener, but he doesn’t contribute a whole lot to the conversation.) Hands down I enjoy traveling more when Joelle is with me. She is calm. She is steady. She is funny. She is a good sport. She has a beautiful soul. She is a great conversationalist. We look at life the same way. Everything I saw, everything I did was a richer experience because I could share it with Joelle. We have a few videos we shot of the gorgeous vistas, and in the background, we can be heard “oohing and aahhing” at the same time. We were both deeply moved and on the same wavelength.

When I traveled alone, I saw beautiful things and had great experiences, and without exception, each time, I thought, “Oh, I wish someone else could see this right here, right now, and have this experience with me.”

Joelle and I have parted ways at the John Wayne airport. She is back home with her family. I wake up in a Chicago hotel room and take a few minutes to luxuriate in the squishy mattress and fluffy covers. It was enjoyably indulgent. It gave me time to reflect on the previous days in Big Sur and Malibu. Darryl would have loved this trip. He would be so happy and encouraging of the camping that I have started. We never camped together. He would go off with his friends and with Griffin for his camping weekends, and I was happy for him, but I had no desire to do the same thing. Peeing in the woods held no appeal for me.

Now, I dream of all the places I can fall asleep under the stars.

As I lay there, thinking of Darryl, missing him terribly, it dawns on me – this is the little bit of himself that he has left with me. A portion of his spirit stays with me, snuggles with me in the sleeping bag, looks up at the stars with me, hikes through the woods with me. He has left with me his sense of adventure and wonder. And I am never alone. 
 
Love these guys. You can thank me later for not posting some of the other pictures Darryl took.

A word or two from Joelle
In the months before walking into the Dallas Love Field airport on a Saturday night in April, ready to start our journey up the West Coast I had a mantra running through my head, “Restore, Relax, Recharge.” I needed to unplug from responsibilities and listen to my inner self once again. 
I knew that this trip with Maggie, aka my Gypsy sister, like the trip from Dallas to San Diego, would bring my mantra to fruition. It would be a trip of relaxation with no expectations, no deadlines, no rushing to see this “place” or that “thing.”  Just a slow and steady trip with a little lunging and creaking from Steady Betty.  I would restore my mind and better yet, hear that little voice of intuition that gets pushed to the bottom and struggles to be heard. 
 The redwoods speaking to us in Big Sur, the ocean crashing on the rocks as we stop for the 20th time on the side of the road to get one more “I cannot believe how beautiful it is here” picture, the wind whipping through the small side vent windows on Steady Betty as we travel up PCH and the 101.  All these sounds are like meditation breathing, in and out to the swaying trees, whipping winds and crashing waves bringing a peacefulness. Yes, I am recharged, relaxed, and restored.
 I would like to mention my husband, Dave, since he is as much a part of this as me and Maggie. He is a very understanding man who appreciates and nurtures my need to go be a hippy dippy Gypsy. He chuckles and shakes his head when I tell him we will be driving up the Coast in a vintage VW Westfalia van with no destination, sleeping at campsites with the possibility of no running water.  Waking up in nature trotting off to the “bathroom.”  
I look forward to the next adventure with Maggie where we can be free to wander on back roads, driving up mountains or maybe navigating the waters with the only true time constraint, making it to the airport in time for our flights back to reality. But just as equally, I look forward to spending a time traveling with Dave, checking out new cities, staying in a nice hotel, sleeping on a comfy mattress, and having fully functionally toilets and hot showers.




Thursday, May 11, 2017

Contrast

Life is one beautiful trip.

I love restaurants and theatres and dancing. I have fun getting dressed up and finding just the right pair of heels to complement my outfit. I love being in my tiny kitchen, cooking meatballs, sharing a glass of wine with friends, dancing to Justin Timberlake and laughing.

My soul. My soul, though, is at its most content, most connected, most joyful, most peaceful – in nature. When my feet are touching earth instead of asphalt, I am in the arms of Mother Earth. Sunlight permeates me and energizes me. Streetlights may twinkle and herald the excitement of city life; but Starlight is pure magic and comes from the endless, limitless, unknowable expanse of the universe.



Joelle and I are not sad about heading south again. We are accepting. We feel blessed and expanded for having this time to travel together. All the things we saw, felt, heard, tasted, and smelled are embedded in our consciousness. We can call on these memories at any time and invoke the same happy, blissful state.

We are already imagining our next trip.

Betty is no happier about being on this road than we are.

One last shot of the three of us. Photo by Joelle Mann.

It’s time to return Steady Betty to her home base and for us to board airplanes. Joelle is returning to her family in Dallas. I am taking the red eye to Chicago to join other board members of the American Marketing Association for a Leadership Summit.

Photo by Joelle Mann

There are very few people at Midway when we land at 1:00 a.m. The stores are closed. There is no hustle bustle. Just a few tired, wrinkled travelers, pulling their wheeled luggage behind them. I trek down the empty corridor, heading for baggage claim, when I am greeted by an eight-foot likeness of someone I know. There is my friend Signe, backlit, in front of a refrigerator full of pickles.

Traveling alone, in the middle of the night, it was comforting to be greeted by a friend.

I roll into the hotel at 2:00 a.m. on Saturday morning for an event that began on Friday. The Uber driver unloads my stuff from the trunk, looks at the duffle holding my camping gear, looks at me, looks back at the duffle, looks at me again, and says, “You. Bag. Same size. Ha ha ha ha ha.” It’s true. Clad in my jeans, sporting my new Nepalese head wrap, backpack on my shoulder, I make my way to someone else’s room to catch a few hours of sleep.

The view from the hotel. Not exactly redwoods and stars.
After a shower, inside, with hot water, and fluffy white towels, I put on the one dress I have rolled into the corner of my bag. Throwing the backpack over my shoulder, I head downstairs for coffee and business.

Everyone else has already had a full day to bond and drink the Kool-Aid. This is not an insult; the attendees themselves use this term to talk about how this event makes them feel more connected to our organization.

I am sitting in a room full of other people’s realities.

These people are so serious. There are accolades and applause and emotion. I am happy for their happiness, but I do not feel a part of this group of several hundred people. I feel blissfully invisible. Floating above, in my "cloud of disconnect." I talk. I participate. I want to support my team members. They are good people, traveling down a different road.

First trip to Chicago, experienced in the back of Ubers. 40 degrees and pouring rain.
And here I am, ready to head to another airport and board another plane. Time to kill before the flight back to Charleston. So, of course, I am content to sit and write. One of my travel companions gives me his leftover pizza. These are the shoes that have hiked through Big Sur. They still have red mud on them from wading through a creek in Palo Duro Canyon, two years ago, despite several washings. These are the same shoes that got me thrown out of a Chicago nightclub the evening before. (Secretly proud and relieved.)

Where will these shoes carry me next?