When we got to Malaga, after a quick stop for lunch at the train station and knocking out some laundry at a local laundromat, we grabbed a taxi to IMT Bike. Over the previous few months, I’d been emailing them with all kinds of questions and thoughts, and they’d been great about helping plan our trip. Not great about helping to plan our route, since that would compete with their guided tours, but everything else about their service was fantastic. Yeah, I’m plugging their business, but I think they did a great job, so if you want to rent motorcycles in Spain, talk to them. Tell Elisa I sent you. I don’t get any credit for it, but I just like it when people drop my name for no good reason.
Motorcycling In The South Of Spain- Part 1
“This is dumb. This is dumb. This is so freaking dumb. I’m going to die.” The words echoed through my head almost in time with the thrum of the engine. Part of me was excited about the ride. Part of me was terrified. And a small voice in my head was convinced that I was going to die. But that’s why I was here in the first place. Not to die, that is, but to do something outside of my comfort zone. With that thought, I rolled on the throttle and rode out into the rain.
Cannstatter Volksfest
Cannstatter Volksfest is Stuttgart’s answer to Oktoberfest in Munich. Apparently German tradition says that you can’t call it an ‘Oktoberfest’ if you’re not in or near Munich. So, the city of Stuttgart started their own beer festival in the neighborhood of Bad Canstatt, and it’s a people’s fest, giving it the name Canstatter Volksfest. You’ll also hear people refer to the Canstatter Wasen or just Wasen, which refers to the fairgrounds where the event is held. Regardless of the proper vocabulary, if you were to ask where Oktoberfest is, locals would point you towards the festival. And what a festival it is!
Pocket Pills
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.