Wednesday, August 15, 2012

August 15: Relaxation & Failure

August 15 is National Relaxation Day AND National Failures Day.  Two special days in one... who knew?

In honor of this momentous occasion, I find it fitting to look back at my travel adventures to pinpoint my 1) most relaxing travel moment and 2) my most epic travel failure.  Since there were so many candidates to choose from in both categories, I offer up my top three in each category:

NATIONAL RELAXATION DAY:


#3: Mykonos, Greece (July 2005): My number-3 most relaxing travel moment takes us to the beautiful island of Mykonos.  White sand, sparkling blue water, traditional white buildings and blue roofs, and the relaxed Mediterranean way of life provide a backdrop for a relaxing escape from reality.  My visit to Mykonos was in the context of a study abroad program, following my first year of law school.  The class circumnavigated Greece as we studied the nuances of EU and international law.  While being in law school is in no way relaxing, there was something about the classes in Mykonos that were different...
Maybe it was the giant glass window that looked out onto the ocean...
Or maybe it was the lax demeanor of the professor, as we sipped Amstel Light while he lectured...
Or maybe it was that once class ended, we could walk outside that giant glass window and go snorkeling in the crystal waters and play rugby on the sand with a group of Aussie tourists.
Needless to say, my studies in Mykonos (albeit only for a week) were undoubtedly the most relaxing moments any law student could dream of.

#2: George, Washington, USA (September 2006/2007): My number-2 most relaxing travel moment involves a beautiful backdrop, great music, and a whole-lot of doing nothing.  I am not shy about my enduring love of The Dave Matthews Band.  Every Labor Day weekend, DMB plays a 3-night concert at The Gorge - an outdoor amphitheater outside the tiny town of George, Washington.  This is a sleepy place with nothing not much going on.  But each September, hoards of DMB fans roll into a vast open field adjacent to the concert venue, where a village of tents and RVs manifests.  The crowds spend the days relaxing in the sun while enjoying barbecue, beer, and other various social indiscretions.  By night, the crowds stroll across the field to the concert venue, which has the impressive, canyon-like Gorge in the background.  DMB serenades the crowds... and the same things go on for 3 days... year after year.  Come to think of it, I'm about due for another trip to The Gorge!

#1: Arenal, Costa Rica (November 2008):  If you have ever been married, you can certainly appreciate the building stress as your wedding day approaches.  Don't get me wrong: having 250 of our closest family and friends together for an evening was one of the highlights of my life, but planning an occasion for that many people takes lots of time, lots of energy, and lots of dollars... and it causes lots of stress.  What better way to unwind than a fantastic honeymoon, and I can think of no better place than Costa Rica.  The laid-back Pura Vida lifestyle was perfect for unwinding after the stress of our matrimonial celebration.  Of all of our Costa Rican stops, Arenal was certainly the most relaxing.  The sweeping mountain and volcano views, lush greenery, and the magnificent hot springs were glorious.  Throw in the fun and excitement of zip-lining and horseback riding down a river, and it was obvious: Arenal is a sanctuary of relaxation.

NATION FAILURES DAY:


Can't walk, so might as well ride.
Honorable Mention: Vienna, Austria (April 2011):  I'm not proud of these travel failures, but any seasoned traveler is bound to hit some unfortunate bumps in the road.  I've always known a good pair of shoes was important, but that lesson was confirmed in Vienna.  After 10 days of extensive walking (i.e. 12+ miles a day), my feet and shoes decided that they didn't get along.  While we strolled from downtown toward   Schloß Schonbrunn, the foot-shoe relationship disintegrated into the largest, most painful blisters I have ever experienced.  Every step felt like a knife stabbing into the balls of my feet.  Within minutes, I was crippled - I couldn't take another step with the pain.  For a little ways, I managed to slide on my heels along the edge of the curb, keeping the balls of my feet off the ground, but walking sideways is slow and uncomfortable.  Eventually, we made it to a city bike stand, where I hopped on a bike to ride back into town.  That night, I was in a panic as it seemed that our European adventure was about to end prematurely.  I had no options:  I wear a size 20 shoe, so finding a better fitting pair of shoes was impossible (buying shoes is the most troubling aspect of being my size).  The idea of being pushed along Europe's cobblestone streets sounded awful.  We thought we had no options left, but the proprietor at our hotel recommended a leather and shoe repair shop north of downtown.  I struggled to get there, but the repairman worked wonders.  He created custom insoles for my shoes that took all of the pressure off of the blisters, and he only charged 20 EUR to do it!  Though it took my feet nearly 3 months to recover, he saved our trip and I am forever indebted to him.

#3: Barcelona, Spain (July 2003):  Beware of gypsies and crowds in train and subway stations.  I learned this lesson the hard way, when unbeknownst to me, someone snatched my wallet.  Fortunately, Western Union saved the day when I had enough money wired to me to cover the rest of the trip, and they did not get my passport.  That experience reaffirmed the importance of securing valuables.  Ever since then, my wallet and passport are always secured in a pair of thin basketball shorts underneath the pants/shorts that I am wearing.  I avoided a big disaster (since I didn't have my passport stolen), but it was still a big-time travel failure.

#2: The Bronx, New York City, NY, USA (August 2008):  I visited NYC during the last season that the Yankees played at the old Yankee Stadium.  The legends that had played there are endless, and they even call it the "House that Babe Built".  During the final season, ticket prices were exorbitant, but my buddies Alex, Andrew, and I all wanted to see a game before the stadium was closed (and eventually imploded).  Realizing that our only chance to score cheap seats was through a scalper, we walked the streets outside the Stadium to find the best deal.  Our plan was to wait until the 3rd inning to buy - because we thought the scalpers would be desperate to get some money rather than eat the ticket.  So, as the 3rd inning rolled around, we made our move. If you have ever been to Yankee Stadium, you are probably familiar with the signs that warn of buying counterfeit tickets from scalpers.  (You can already see where this story is headed.)  We were certainly cognizant of the risk, so we chose our scalper wisely.  In my infinite wisdom, I even stated, "How about that guy?  There is no way that a scalper leaning on a "Beware of Counterfeit Tickets" sign would actually be selling counterfeit tickets."  Andrew and Alex agreed on the scalper, and as we were exchanging the three tickets for $120 total (which was, presumably, a great deal), Andrew did his final due diligence by asking the scalper: "Are you sure these are real?"  Sherlock Holmes himself couldn't have done a better investigation.  Needless to say, the bar code on the tickets didn't work, the gatekeeper confiscated our tickets (we don't even have the fake tickets as a souvenir), and we spent the afternoon sulking in Central Park over the $40 we had each lost.  Funny enough, I remember those events so vividly, but I'm sure that going to the game would now be a faded memory.

Return to the scene of the crime.
#1: Prague, Czech Republic (June 2005):  (For those of you that followed our trip through Europe earlier this year, this story may sound familiar.)  It was the first night that my law school classmates (Lucas & Emily) and I were together in Europe, so naturally, we wanted to spend a night out on the town. We went to Central Europe's largest dance club, a 5-story meat-market next to the Charles Bridge. Despite being a few drinks deep, I remember standing in a circle with Lucas, Emily, and Lucas' sister & friend, all singing and dancing to Gangsta's Paradise, when I felt a blow to my face... I thought someone had thrown a bottle, but apparently, some dude had sucker punched me, cutting me just above my left eye. I wasn't sure what had happened, but I look down and saw the blood gushing off my face and onto my shirt, jeans, and shoes. Security immediately grabbed me and pulled me off the dance floor, shoving me into a dimly lit bathroom, where they handed me a cocktail napkin for the gushing wound. The napkin was saturated in about 3 seconds. They then hand me a couple piece of toilet paper, pulled me out of the bathroom, down a flight of stairs, and they pushed me out the front door onto the sidewalk. I didn't know if my friends knew where I was or what had even happened. I then found a British guy out on the street, who had also fallen victim to the same serial sucker-puncher (British guy's front tooth got knocked out). Then, Lucas came out the door in a rage, because the same guy sucker punched him in the jaw. Emily followed outside, all of us finally reunited. I asked for some ice to help stop the swelling, and the generous bouncer gave me one cube. As a bunch of first year law students, we were intent on seeing that justice was served. We told the bouncers that we wanted the police called, but they told us that they would tell the police that we caused the fight... scrap that plan. After several more minutes of talking with the bouncers, Emily finally sweet talked one into spilling some info. They had caught the puncher and they "took care if it". Pressing a little more, the bouncer directed us to the alley behind the club, where we found the perpetrator lying on the concrete in far worse shape than any of us. I probably should have gone to the hospital for some stitches, but I was slightly afraid that a Czech hospital at 2am could lead to some sort of unnecessary amputation. Instead, I band-aided up and the cut and black eye eventually healed. Needless to say, getting punched in the face stands as my biggest travel failure.

Hopefully, I am able to add more to the first list and avoid adding anything to the latter. Though, trials and tribulations are a memorable part of the travel experience.

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