This is less of a travel tale than a random and hopefully useful piece of info that I thought I’d pass on. Around 2002, I became lactose intolerant (no, that’s not the useful piece of info). I have no idea what caused it, but it started more or less overnight, although it took me a few weeks to figure out what was wrong. In order for me to be able to enjoy dairy products without any ill effects, I got in the habit of carrying Lactaid with me, in case I found myself at a pizza joint or craving a milkshake. Well over a decade later, the condition seems to have disappeared, since I can eat whatever I want with no major issues. But the habit of carrying pills in my pocket continues, with some minor changes. When you’re traveling, having Immodium in your pocket could be the difference between enjoying a leisurely day of sightseeing and an uncomfortable day of seeing the inside of different bathroom stalls.
Kiteboarding in Costa Rica
I could see the instructor waving her arms at me, but I couldn’t clearly see what she was doing. Monica was a few hundred yards away on the beach and I had salt water sheeting down the outside of my sunglasses. It was also in my ears and nose, but that was of lesser importance. I looked harder at her standing on the beach, trying to remember what each hand signal meant and trying to match the signals to what she appeared to be doing, when suddenly my view was completely blocked as my kite crashed to the surface of the water. I guess she was trying to tell me to pay attention to my kite because it was coming down. Oops.
Street Vendors in Saigon
As I was walking down the street in Saigon a few months ago, a guy was walking by with a large piece of cardboard covered in sunglasses. He stepped in front of me and asked if I wanted to buy a pair. I pointed to the pair on my face and told him that I already have a pair and I stepped around him. He started walking backwards to stay in front of me and said, “I give you better price!” Really, dude? What price is better than “I already have some”? I laughed and kept walking.
Looking Back
I don’t even know where to start. It’s been a fantastic year, with more memories than I can remember (ironic, isn’t it?) I spent over 95% of that time on my own, which meant a lot of walking through new cities, down random streets with no itinerary or schedule, with nothing but the thoughts in my own head. Some of the insights that I came to about myself and about people in general were both common sense and revelatory at the same time.
A Year In Numbers
The time has come for me to wrap up my trip and return to the real world. It’s been an amazing experience, with lots of lessons learned. Since I spent so much time on my own, there was a lot of introspection and self-analysis (much of it booze fueled), some of which I think is worth sharing. Over the next few days/ weeks, I’ll try to type some of it up and post it. But for a quick starter, here’s an overview of the last year in numbers:
Ronda, Spain
Maybe I got to Ronda at just the right time, both in terms of weather and in terms of where I was in my travels. Maybe I had been in hostels for so long that changing to a hotel for a few nights was an exceptional treat. Or maybe Ronda is an awesome little town that exceeded my expectations in every way.
Riding a camel
If you’ve ever ridden a horse, you’ll be right at home on a camel. Camels are taller, smell worse, walk slower, and are more stubborn. But other than that, it’s the exact same as riding a horse. While I’ve avoided, for the most part, doing the clichéd things on my trips, I have definitely done some. I took cooking classes in Italy, I did the “I’m holding up the leaning tower” pose in Pisa, and I rode in long boats in Cambodia. So it wasn’t too much of a stretch for me to decide to ride a camel in Morocco.
Marrakesh Part 2
More photos from my trip to Marrakesh. Part 1 is here. You don’t need to read that one before this one, but it’s got some good photos, so check it out. And now, more pictures!
Marrakesh
I’ve been fortunate enough to have been able to travel quite a bit, from Kansas City to Venice, and from Austin to Saigon. Some cities were more foreign than others, some were easy to figure out and others took time to get used to. But Marrakesh is nothing like anywhere else I’ve been. You’ve probably seen Morocco represented in movies, but the thought in the back of your head is always, “That’s what it used to look like 100 years ago” or “That has to be exaggerated. It can’t be like that.” The reality is just as exotic as you’d hope and then some.
The Moroccan Hammam
The hammam is a traditional Moroccan public bath, whose roots started with the Roman baths of 2000 years ago. Back when people didn’t have private showers in their homes but cleanliness was still a desirable state, public bath houses became the norm, as a place to both get clean as well as to meet friends and socialize. While most houses in Morocco now have indoor plumbing and hot water heaters, the hammam is still a traditional experience that’s generally high on the internet’s “must do while in Morocco” lists. So, with some hesitation, I decided to give it a shot. The last time I bathed in front of other guys was after gym class in high school. Presumably this would be less awkward.