Your trip looks so lovely, Mari. I'm so glad you finally got to go. What has been my best trip? Wow, it's so hard to say. I would say the safari we did was life changing, hiking in Grand Canyon is amazing, and I loved visiting Santiago. But I also remember an afternoon spent in Salzburg whiling away the time talking with friends in a coffee shop. That is a special memory, too.
These are all lovely memories! Your time with friends in the Viennese coffee shop reminds me of a lovely evening we spent on a previous trip to Italy. Matt’s mom’s cousin owns a villa in Tuscany (!) and one night while we were visiting her, we all went to restaurant in a neighboring town and hung out with her friends at a long table. The food was terrific and turned out to be free, because an internet outage had prevented the credit card machines from working. The owner of the restaurant wasn’t even upset. “Eh, you’ll pay me later,” he said.
I have always loved your Grand Canyon stories and photos, so that is probably my favorite trip of yours!
On splurging for a special experience, here is Mark Twain, "Innocents Abroad," on how the group of American travelers he was with on the first U.S. group tour of Europe and the Middle East were wracked with disappointment at the Sea of Galilee in The Holy Land, when they tried to bargain-- unsuccessfully--for their one chance to sail on the oft-drempt-of sea: "pilgrims who had dreamed all their lives of some day skimming over the sacred waters of Galilee and listening to its hallowed story in the whisperings of its waves, and had journeyed countless leagues to do it, and--and then concluded that the fare was too high."
The "free snacks" reminds me of the Greek tavernas that serve "ouzo me meze" ouzo shots with a progression of snacks (mezethes) that get more elaborate with each round. You start with a humble bread slice, then maybe some cheese, but by the 5th or 6th round you're getting smoked herring and slices of pastitsio. So fun!
Really wonderful photos, Mari. Thanks for sharing them. Varying your horizon line is a great move. It's easy to just stick it in the middle and call it good--also a bit boring.
I am among the worst travelers in the world. I become a reactive ball of stress. What a joy to be on a trip with me!
That said, my favorite moments are the unscripted: shopping for a hat in Grand Marais because my wife Anna wants to rock hound all day and a hat is required, or staying up a fair portion of the night shooting photos of the Northern Lights display that 'intruded' on our vacation.
I dig the 'God laughs' quote as a touchstone for life, but on occasion--when our plans work out--it's okay for us to laugh, too.
P.S. The background music to the 'Three Guys from Boston' video is "Breezin' " by George Benson. Apropos of nothing, other than it grabbed me by the ears until I identified it.
Thank you for noticing the photos! I always take about fifty photos for every one I keep. That’s my whole secret.
And I agree about the joy of unscripted moments, during travel and in other situations too. I have never seen the northern lights and think you were smart to view them not as an intrusion but as an opportunity.
In answer to the question, about “mixing with the locals” as promised by Rick Steves - no interest. The thought makes me kind of cringe actually.
I live in a city that attracts a certain amount of international tourism, in a minor way, and much domestic tourism - and there’s absolutely nothing interesting about its residents that would require those people who visit to mingle with us. Indeed, it would probably be best not to gain closer familiarity. Some dream of America might be irrevocably broken. The situation *might* be different in a rural area, if rural pursuits hold interest for foreign tourists.
I think “mix with locals” is usually a euphemism for “view folkways that have survived into the 20th century, sometimes mostly performatively, sometimes not”. As such it represents more of a look at our own pasts, not even necessarily all that distant, colored of course by regional variation.
I recall my mother very much enjoyed on her tour of Egypt, being taken in to see the very modest dwellings and cooking set ups of people along their route, I guess towards the monuments. And their decorated donkeys.
In any case no one ever speaks of foreigners mixing with the locals in America, reinforcing that it is a one-way thing.
I only travel by car, thus only in the USA. (I would like to see Banff, but when I researched it, it seemed complicated and I became overwhelmed. I decided on Glacier instead, but apparently it is very crowded now. You basically have to plan 18 months in advance, which annoys my husband who keeps saying “we used to just drive up” so I’m kind of stymied there. But if I go, that will have to be my Alps, I who had travel posters from Switzerland on my wall as a child from the Swiss consul, so much did I love Heidi.)
However, I do enjoy seeing foreign tourists in the desert southwest. They do not evince friendliness, but for instance I like seeing French families wearing matching shirts like they were a sports team. I like hearing different tongues on the trail.
There was a group we could not identify. We were staying in the tiny hamlet of Bluff, Utah. There is a wonderful old hippie-ish motel there. Across the street is a fairly new and attractive restaurant, serving smoked meat and salads and sides. Not sure how long it will last, but it’s nice to have somewhere to eat as very often the desert and high country are an actual “food desert”, much more so than the places so-called by that term. (I eat much like you and my husband has occasionally warned me “that hummus in the cooler isn’t going to be enough”.)
Anyway, this group, about 18 in a couple of sprinter vans, was different than the usual European tourists. I think think European, or former Soviet, but definitely not Western, as their language was a mystery to us. Also, their phenotype. Clearly, one ethnicity, not Nordic, fairly tall but with a strong suggestion of people who were babies in a place where there was not quite enough to eat. They were gaunt. Indeed, they looked very hungry. They liked the meat very much, and seemed curious about why it was so tender*; so much so that they were asking questions of the cashier, and so the proprietor came out and explained through the one English speaker among them about the slow smoking of the meat.
Definitely not German, we joked, although we already knew they were not speaking German. I had practically shushed my husband so hard was I trying to hear their speech above the music that is ubiquitous in my beloved USA.
There was something different too, in that they seemed not at all jaded. They were not people who had obviously been everywhere like most of the Euro tourists.
Indeed, it was interesting that they had stopped in this place, which was outside of the Bryce Zion Grand Canyon triangle that summons so many foreigners.
(I bet the ample bathrooms in America are not a small draw. Mother also once mentioned of a Tauck tour of Italy, that all the women in their group were trying to drink 64 ounces of water a day as was the current fashion, and the havoc that played with the paucity of bathrooms.)
*Mix? No, never. That seems too naive a thought to entertain especially at this juncture. But I do like to observe, and I expect always will.
I remember reading Dervla Murphy’s book. I think it’s called “Full Tilt”. Truly, one of the great human adventures for audacity. She was generally met with great hospitality and kept reporting e.g. “they gave me their last egg”.
It was a cool book but I kept thinking I just couldn’t accept somebody’s last egg.
Now I am really curious about which country those tourists were from!
You make an excellent point that “mix with the locals” really refers to old-timey practices rather than people as they are living their lives right now. One of the most authentic “mix with the locals” experiences I have ever had was not observing traditional weaving or sheep-herding whatever; it was trying to walk through the stepped alleys of Dubrovnik when everyone in town was sitting on the steps watching soccer on TVs the businesses had set up above their shops. It was fun, but it was definitely not old-timey.
And yes, I would not accept someone’s last egg either. Or at least I would trade something for it!
Mari, as you are the oldest AND only sister, you get to be practical and clever, funny, and beautiful and kind. These pictures are breathtaking. So glad you finally made it!
Your trip looks so lovely, Mari. I'm so glad you finally got to go. What has been my best trip? Wow, it's so hard to say. I would say the safari we did was life changing, hiking in Grand Canyon is amazing, and I loved visiting Santiago. But I also remember an afternoon spent in Salzburg whiling away the time talking with friends in a coffee shop. That is a special memory, too.
These are all lovely memories! Your time with friends in the Viennese coffee shop reminds me of a lovely evening we spent on a previous trip to Italy. Matt’s mom’s cousin owns a villa in Tuscany (!) and one night while we were visiting her, we all went to restaurant in a neighboring town and hung out with her friends at a long table. The food was terrific and turned out to be free, because an internet outage had prevented the credit card machines from working. The owner of the restaurant wasn’t even upset. “Eh, you’ll pay me later,” he said.
I have always loved your Grand Canyon stories and photos, so that is probably my favorite trip of yours!
On splurging for a special experience, here is Mark Twain, "Innocents Abroad," on how the group of American travelers he was with on the first U.S. group tour of Europe and the Middle East were wracked with disappointment at the Sea of Galilee in The Holy Land, when they tried to bargain-- unsuccessfully--for their one chance to sail on the oft-drempt-of sea: "pilgrims who had dreamed all their lives of some day skimming over the sacred waters of Galilee and listening to its hallowed story in the whisperings of its waves, and had journeyed countless leagues to do it, and--and then concluded that the fare was too high."
Ah, human frailty! Thanks for sharing this funny and relatable story!
The "free snacks" reminds me of the Greek tavernas that serve "ouzo me meze" ouzo shots with a progression of snacks (mezethes) that get more elaborate with each round. You start with a humble bread slice, then maybe some cheese, but by the 5th or 6th round you're getting smoked herring and slices of pastitsio. So fun!
Oh wow, that sounds so fun—and delicious too!
Really wonderful photos, Mari. Thanks for sharing them. Varying your horizon line is a great move. It's easy to just stick it in the middle and call it good--also a bit boring.
I am among the worst travelers in the world. I become a reactive ball of stress. What a joy to be on a trip with me!
That said, my favorite moments are the unscripted: shopping for a hat in Grand Marais because my wife Anna wants to rock hound all day and a hat is required, or staying up a fair portion of the night shooting photos of the Northern Lights display that 'intruded' on our vacation.
I dig the 'God laughs' quote as a touchstone for life, but on occasion--when our plans work out--it's okay for us to laugh, too.
P.S. The background music to the 'Three Guys from Boston' video is "Breezin' " by George Benson. Apropos of nothing, other than it grabbed me by the ears until I identified it.
Thank you for noticing the photos! I always take about fifty photos for every one I keep. That’s my whole secret.
And I agree about the joy of unscripted moments, during travel and in other situations too. I have never seen the northern lights and think you were smart to view them not as an intrusion but as an opportunity.
Thanks for tracking down that song!
In answer to the question, about “mixing with the locals” as promised by Rick Steves - no interest. The thought makes me kind of cringe actually.
I live in a city that attracts a certain amount of international tourism, in a minor way, and much domestic tourism - and there’s absolutely nothing interesting about its residents that would require those people who visit to mingle with us. Indeed, it would probably be best not to gain closer familiarity. Some dream of America might be irrevocably broken. The situation *might* be different in a rural area, if rural pursuits hold interest for foreign tourists.
I think “mix with locals” is usually a euphemism for “view folkways that have survived into the 20th century, sometimes mostly performatively, sometimes not”. As such it represents more of a look at our own pasts, not even necessarily all that distant, colored of course by regional variation.
I recall my mother very much enjoyed on her tour of Egypt, being taken in to see the very modest dwellings and cooking set ups of people along their route, I guess towards the monuments. And their decorated donkeys.
In any case no one ever speaks of foreigners mixing with the locals in America, reinforcing that it is a one-way thing.
I only travel by car, thus only in the USA. (I would like to see Banff, but when I researched it, it seemed complicated and I became overwhelmed. I decided on Glacier instead, but apparently it is very crowded now. You basically have to plan 18 months in advance, which annoys my husband who keeps saying “we used to just drive up” so I’m kind of stymied there. But if I go, that will have to be my Alps, I who had travel posters from Switzerland on my wall as a child from the Swiss consul, so much did I love Heidi.)
However, I do enjoy seeing foreign tourists in the desert southwest. They do not evince friendliness, but for instance I like seeing French families wearing matching shirts like they were a sports team. I like hearing different tongues on the trail.
There was a group we could not identify. We were staying in the tiny hamlet of Bluff, Utah. There is a wonderful old hippie-ish motel there. Across the street is a fairly new and attractive restaurant, serving smoked meat and salads and sides. Not sure how long it will last, but it’s nice to have somewhere to eat as very often the desert and high country are an actual “food desert”, much more so than the places so-called by that term. (I eat much like you and my husband has occasionally warned me “that hummus in the cooler isn’t going to be enough”.)
Anyway, this group, about 18 in a couple of sprinter vans, was different than the usual European tourists. I think think European, or former Soviet, but definitely not Western, as their language was a mystery to us. Also, their phenotype. Clearly, one ethnicity, not Nordic, fairly tall but with a strong suggestion of people who were babies in a place where there was not quite enough to eat. They were gaunt. Indeed, they looked very hungry. They liked the meat very much, and seemed curious about why it was so tender*; so much so that they were asking questions of the cashier, and so the proprietor came out and explained through the one English speaker among them about the slow smoking of the meat.
Definitely not German, we joked, although we already knew they were not speaking German. I had practically shushed my husband so hard was I trying to hear their speech above the music that is ubiquitous in my beloved USA.
There was something different too, in that they seemed not at all jaded. They were not people who had obviously been everywhere like most of the Euro tourists.
Indeed, it was interesting that they had stopped in this place, which was outside of the Bryce Zion Grand Canyon triangle that summons so many foreigners.
(I bet the ample bathrooms in America are not a small draw. Mother also once mentioned of a Tauck tour of Italy, that all the women in their group were trying to drink 64 ounces of water a day as was the current fashion, and the havoc that played with the paucity of bathrooms.)
*Mix? No, never. That seems too naive a thought to entertain especially at this juncture. But I do like to observe, and I expect always will.
I remember reading Dervla Murphy’s book. I think it’s called “Full Tilt”. Truly, one of the great human adventures for audacity. She was generally met with great hospitality and kept reporting e.g. “they gave me their last egg”.
It was a cool book but I kept thinking I just couldn’t accept somebody’s last egg.
Now I am really curious about which country those tourists were from!
You make an excellent point that “mix with the locals” really refers to old-timey practices rather than people as they are living their lives right now. One of the most authentic “mix with the locals” experiences I have ever had was not observing traditional weaving or sheep-herding whatever; it was trying to walk through the stepped alleys of Dubrovnik when everyone in town was sitting on the steps watching soccer on TVs the businesses had set up above their shops. It was fun, but it was definitely not old-timey.
And yes, I would not accept someone’s last egg either. Or at least I would trade something for it!
Mari, as you are the oldest AND only sister, you get to be practical and clever, funny, and beautiful and kind. These pictures are breathtaking. So glad you finally made it!
Oh, what a lovely thing to say! Thank you! (And you may be the youngest sister, but you are not only beautiful and kind, but also clever and funny!)
HA! And PLUMP :-)
No! Never! Voluptuous, yes, but plump no!