Travel photography

Today at work a coworker shared beautiful photos of his recent trip to Europe with me and then I came across this list, and it's like the universe is sending me a message. I need a good camera. But not a really great, crazy expensive camera that takes up a ton of packing space and makes me look like a pickpocket target wherever I go. Can someone please recommend a high-quality, affordable, easily transportable camera that can help me take shots like the one below on my next trip?

Copyright Rus Margolin of Travel2Unlimited

Mini Vacations

I couldn't agree more, fortune.

I’m a big proponent of the mini break. Sure, I’d love to spend my time jet-setting around the globe on epic trips, but for some stupid reason my bank account and work schedule refuse to let me follow my heart in this regard. To the rescue … weekend getaways! The much more affordable and practical sister of my yearly overseas adventure, a mini vacation is easy enough to do at least once a year, if not more. Personally, I try following a schedule (without schedules, I’d end up sitting on my couch in all of my spare time) to make sure I take a minimum of out-of-town trips every year. For me, that means at least one weekend away in spring, summer, and fall, plus a few days off around the winter holidays.

My friends Christina and Matt (they’re married and I’m their permanent third wheel) and I have a loose agreement to go camping once in the spring and once in the fall, and to hit the beach once a summer. As for the winter time off, for the past decade at least, my sister or I have lived out of town, so the holidays are usually spent being a tourist in our hometown, checking out new bars and restaurants and revisiting old favorite spots. (Staycations are an entirely different beast that I’ll probably address here soon.)

The Great Outdoors

Camping is such an affordable and rewarding break for those who don’t mind sleeping in a tent and wearing flip-flops in the shower. And as a central Texas resident, I have access to so many beautiful state parks just a few hours’ drive away that it seems silly not to go camping when I need to get out of town and recharge a little. And luckily for me, Matt and Christina share this outlook. We always invite other friends to join us, sometimes with success, other times not, but either way the trips are affordable enough. Rates for a campsite are usually $15–$30 a night (and you can cram a bunch of people in one site), and then you just need to factor in gas, food, beer, ice, wood for the campfire, and any other miscellaneous stuff you want to drag out with you. It’s no stretch to plan a weekend away for less than $100 a person.

For me, camping means setting up my tent, throwing on sunscreen, hiking, swimming, cooking over a fire pit, stargazing, playing cards, talking nonsense, and making s’mores. So many s’mores! And so many stars! As a city dweller, I love getting away from light pollution and simply looking up—I can easily pass an entire night at a campsite marveling at how vast the sky is. On every single camping trip we take, Christina and I are guaranteed to look up at least two or three times and say idiotically, “Just look at all the stars! I mean, just look! It’s A-MAAAA-ZING!” No shame. It’s a great, giddy, childlike feeling. And for less than $100, how could I not indulge in that joy at least two weekends a year?

The Beach

The trouble with camping in Texas is that you’re pretty much screwed from May to September. It’s just too damn hot to be outside for that long. For me, at least. I’m sure there are people who love it, but I’d rather not share a car home with them after two days of sweat-lodging (no lodge needed) in the 100+ degree weather. Which is why I prefer to go to the beach in the summer and splurge on an air-conditioned condo with indoor plumbing to wash away all of my saltwater, sun-drenched stink.

So, yes, this mini break is more expensive than camping, because condos will always be more expensive than campsites. But you can still do an affordable beach trip, and the more people you involve, the cheaper it gets. Win win! We usually end up spending about $50/night for lodging per person (assuming three or four people) and, like camping, you just need to budget money for food, drinks, sunscreen, and gas. It’s easier to go out and spend money at bars and restaurants on a beach trip as well, but I’ve always found that with a lively enough crowd, everyone is content to cook and hangout at the condo or on the beach at night.

I’m heading to the Port Aransas this weekend, and I plan on sticking to a $200 budget, including the condo cost. (This is actually my most expensive beach trip, too, because there aren’t many people going and we’re paying a little more for a dog-friendly cabin.) And I completely recognize that $200 is no small amount in our lives of underpaid, underemployed, overcharged, and overburdened stress, but for me the relaxing respite of sitting on the sand, swimming in the sea, sleeping late, reading a book in the sun (under a giant hat), and enjoying the company of friends is worth the money.

So here’s to mini breaks and the sanity they restore! I’ll cheers to you all and your various ways of stretching budgets to get away while I watch the tide roll in this weekend.

Solo Travels, Part 2: The Joy and Self-Reflection

I love traveling by myself. There is almost nothing I can think of that is so joyously liberating as being in a place where I know no one and I have no expectations put upon me. When I get to act free from judgment (relatively, I suppose, but at least I haven’t heard or understood the judgments), I can focus on judging my own actions in a quasi-vacuum; I find it to be pretty darn insightful.

I think solo traveling gives me the freedom to see what I do without my normal social structure and comfortable boundaries influencing me. Of course, we all carry our influences and expectations around with us, but removing all familiarity and plopping myself in a foreign situation is a good way to strip as many of those external forces out of the mix. It is a rare opportunity that traveling affords and the source of that clichéd “finding yourself” theme. Clichéd, yes, but clichés can be true.

To beat a dead horse (I need a less gruesome saying…anyone?), here is my very first experience traveling alone and the mini lessons it taught me.

London, England

I flew from Austin to London solo when I was 21. I had graduated college a month earlier and I was so excited to be taking this first adult adventure by myself. My sweet mom had taken me to the airport and she cried as I walked through the security checkpoint, which brought home just how big this step was (lesson one: my mom is the biggest softie and I have a uncontrollable, reciprocal cry reaction to her tears). Six months abroad! I had no contacts, no safety net, no job prospects or ideas of what I would do, just a work visa and a hostel lined up for two weeks.

When I made it to Heathrow, I exchanged some cash, found my way to the Tube station, and faced one my fears straight away: how to buy a pass that would get me where I needed to go. When you grow up somewhere with basically no public transportation, trying to figure out Tube routes and fares can be pretty daunting, let me tell you (lesson two: other cities do it better, Austin). Lucky for me, London knows what it’s doing and makes it super easy. Success number one was buying my ticket and making to the platform going in the correct direction. I felt like a genius, well on my way to conquering the great city (lesson three: self-reliance feels amazing).

Coming out of the Tube, up to the busy streets above, I was completely disoriented and didn’t know which direction my hostel was. But hyper self-conscious of appearing to be a bumbling tourist, I just picked a direction and started walking like I knew where I was going (lesson four: I might be a bit narcissistic [no surprise, I did start a blog]). A couple blocks in, I realized I was going the wrong way. So just as purposefully, I swung my giant wheelie suitcase around (I hadn’t bought my trusty backpack at that point) and marched off the other way. I wanted people to think I lived in London and was just returning home from a trip abroad, heading back to my flat (lesson five: I'm an idiot). About five minutes after that, I was still lost and not sure I was heading in the right direction, so I swallowed my pride, gave up all hope of being seen as a local, and flagged down the nearest local-looking lady I came across to ask for directions.

I still remember how kind and friendly she was (lesson six: most people really are nice if you give them the chance). She was, in fact, from London, but nevertheless didn’t know where my street was. She said, “Hang on; let me check the A to Zed.” Huh? I had no idea what she was talking about, but she pulled out a city map from her purse (one I would see again and again during my time in London), looked up my street, and seemed genuinely excited for me to learn that it was just a couple blocks away, in the direction I was already heading. Success number two! I made a mental note to buy one of those handy maps and continued on my way.

I few minutes later I had lugged my beast of a suitcase up a bunch of narrow stairs and dumped it on my hostel bed (lesson seven: get a freaking backpack already), next to my new roommate Naomi. We exchanged a bit of introductory chitchat and then she insisted on taking me to the nearest Tesco for my first grocery-shopping trip in London (lesson eight: you bag your own groceries in the UK). I felt like a local just a few hours into my adventure!

I know, it all sounds so simple and mundane in the recounting, but the excitement of every single moment is indescribable. It’s a feeling of empowerment and giddy anticipation and communal trusting in the kindness of strangers that can only fully be understood in the experience of dropping away from all comfort and familiarity and going it alone. In case I haven’t made it clear yet, I highly recommend it!

Solo Travels, Part 1: The Stigma

Hello, again! I just want to say really quickly how much I appreciate you kind folks for indulging me and reading my posts. 

Now for the topic of the day—traveling alone. Daunting to many, luxurious to some, but somehow still stigmatic to others. I thought I’d write just one post on what I’ve learned from my solo travels, but then I realized I’d need to address the stigma first, because unless that’s out of the way, some people won’t actually read anything else. When I write about the joy of waking up whenever I want, wandering to whatever café I want for coffee and pastries and planning my adventures for the day, they’ll just think, “But it’s so sad, so pathetic, to travel by yourself. I could never do that.” It’s not! It’s totally not! And you totally could!

So this will be a two-part post, starting with the negative impressions. From what I can gather, the stigma of traveling alone mostly comes from a sense of shame, based on imagined reactions from other people. Shame at telling your friends or family or coworkers that you couldn’t find someone to go on a trip with you. Or that it means (or that people will think it means) you don’t have someone special in your life to share the experience with. That traveling alone somehow equates to being a lonely person, someone adrift without loved ones.

I think it’s an extension of the shame that keeps some people from going to the movies or dinner alone.  But going to the movies alone is one of life’s great joys! And in general I completely disagree with the premise that a person alone is necessarily a lonely person. There are a bajillion reasons for someone to be out in the world, doing exciting or fun or mundane things alone, none of which have to stem from a lack of people to do those things with.

Some people want to take trips that their friends and family have no interest in. Sure, maybe they could guilt a best friend or a boyfriend or girlfriend into coming along, but then they’re stuck with a downer of a travel buddy. Much better to not compromise on an adventure that is keeping you awake at night with excitement than to bring someone along who will grump about it the whole time, just to avoid a perceived societal stigma.

Some people make more money than their friends, but not so much more that they can pay for two people to take a trip. So they choose to go somewhere they’ve always wanted to go, on their own. I think it is much, much sadder to not do something you’ve always wanted to do because you’re afraid of what people will think, than to be a big girl or boy and live your life on the terms that suit you.

And then other people simply want to take a trip by themselves, for countless reasons. Maybe they want to relax and clear their minds. Maybe they want to go somewhere that feels special and private. Or maybe they want to push their boundaries and see if they can make it alone in a city where no one speaks their language. For some people, traveling alone is challenge enough and they want to prove to themselves that they can do it. And why not?

In general, I think it can be very dangerous to make your decisions based on how you fear other people will interpret them. If flying solo sounds worthwhile to you, why hold yourself back because of what you think someone might say? You’re probably just being paranoid anyway! Folks have their own lives to deal with; they don’t have time to judge you. So go live by your own (kind, thoughtful) rules.

I’ll write a follow-up post about all the fun I’ve had and lessons I’ve learned traveling by myself, so stay tuned. :-)

Words to live by

Maybe if I'm lucky I can do both? (Source)

Outdoorsy inspiration

If you're ever looking for a reason to get off your couch and go to the woods, this tumblr is all you need. So much inspiration. So much gorgeous. Bonus points for Bon Iver love and all the handsome beards. For Emma, Forever Ago

Picking a good travel buddy

This is me and one of my best friends, Michele. In the 15 or so years that we’ve been friends, we’ve taken many trips together: Las Vegas, London and Amsterdam, Yellowstone, and a road trip to Mexico, to name a few. This August we’ll be heading to South America to hike the Inca Trail and check out penguins in the Galapagos. I have a few other tried-and-true, go-to travel buddies, and I started thinking about what makes some people work well together on trips, and what makes me think “never again” about others.

With me and Michele, the biggest commonality is probably that we’re both pretty laid back about how we like to plan and take trips, her even more so than me. She lives in Los Angeles and I’m in Austin, so we’ve done almost all of our planning, booking, and confirming for South America via email and text. We took turns booking shared flights, hotels, and excursions, and kept a running tally of who paid what; we ended up pretty darn close, too, considering the expense and detail of this trip. Everything is booked now and I only owe her $113 (it’s coming, Mish, I promise. PayPal, man).

And now that we have the big pieces in place, we’re both leisurely perusing the details—good places to eat in Lima, places to see in Cusco while we acclimate to the altitude, any must-see markets in Quito, that sort of thing. Over the next few months we’ll each come up with our own lists of what we want to do, probably with a lot of overlap, and then just do whatever sounds best when we land. Super easy with no drama.

It also helps that we both just kind of roll with the randomness that pops up when we’re traveling. I remember when we were walking down a street in Nuevo Laredo, Mexico, and saw a Jeep drive by with three or four guys standing up in the back, holding menacingly large guns. We looked at each other and said, “So we’ll go into the next bar and sit for awhile?” “Yep, sounds good.” We ducked into the first place we came to, walked up to the bar and ordered our Dos Equis from a rather bemused bartender, and turned around to take in the place. My eyes surveyed the room and I realized it was full of men, all of whom were staring at us. Michele, meanwhile, had looked at one of the many TVs around the bar and nudged me. “Look up.” I did … and realized all the TVs were showing porn. Then we both noticed the few women scattered around the edges of the room, scantily dressed, looking bored, and ignoring us, unlike the men. And then we saw the door that led who knows where covered with a curtain. And a man walking behind the curtain with one of the bored women. Without a word we slowly, oh-so-casually, like we totally knew what we were doing, walked back toward the door, chugging our beers (we were 21 at the time and had priorities). One of us said, “So … we’ll go in the next restaurant we find and sit for awhile?” “Yep, sounds good.” And that’s how we found an adorable courtyard restaurant in Nuevo Laredo with delicious chips and salsa and margaritas.

While this story might not say much for our situational awareness or sense of danger, rest assured that we’ve both gotten much better about these sorts of things in the last decade. Michele even looked up the travel advisories for Peru and Ecuador, and we now know to be very cautious with all of our cabs. Progress! But my point is, in my experience, some people tend to have anxious reactions when things go awry, and others are more able to pragmatically react without exacerbating the situation. For my style of traveling, the latter is clearly a better fit. Because even now that we’re more mature and cautious (and know to assess potential porn bars/brothels before ordering beer), things will go wrong on our trip. That’s inevitable on any adventure. Picking a travel partner whom I know I can rely on to keep a level head in those situations is the only part of it I can control.

After all this rambling, maybe it’s time for a list. Here are some factors that I like to consider when picking a travel buddy:

1.     Does this person agree with the type of trip I want to take? Examples include:

a.     Staying in cheaper hotels to extend the trip versus having a shorter, more indulgent vacation

b.     Taking a relaxing vacation with lots of sitting, eating, and drinking versus mixing in more active, outdoorsy fun

c.      Mapping out a strict itinerary versus leaving chunks of time open to explore whatever comes up

2.     What traits about this person bug me under normal circumstances and can I handle them when they’re magnified under the pressure of travel?

3.     What traits about me bother people under normal circumstances and can my potential travel buddy handle them when they’re magnified under the pressure of travel?

4.     Will I get stuck with all the planning and organizing?

5.     Will this person over-plan and over-organize so much that it takes the fun out of the trip?

6.     How does this person react in stressful situations? Do I trust him or her to help when things go wrong?

7.     Are we both stubborn about getting our way or can we compromise so everyone gets to do what matters most to them?

8.     Is he or she slovenly to the point that I wouldn’t want to share a bathroom with them? (It sounds extreme but, trust me, it can be an issue.)

9.     Do they have an appropriate sense of the world around them to not get me in trouble? Will I spend the trip babysitting?

10. Is this person comfortable with splitting up and seeing different things separately? Am I comfortable with that?

I could go on and on, but I think these questions cover the largest concerns about traveling with someone. And don’t forget, travel buddies are optional! Some of my favorite experiences have come from traveling by myself. Watch for a post on that soon. :)

I’d love to hear some of your thoughts on travel buddies. What wisdom have you gleaned along the way? Do you have go-to partners in crime or horror stories of someone you’ll never travel with again?