The Retreat

In a few days I'll be leaving the cabbage fields, virgin forests and shrines of the Irago peninsula, where the nearest convience store is a thirty minute bike ride away and the few local restaurants change their schedules on a whim. It gets dark early and there are no street lamps. Many people would probably find it too quiet, but it's felt like the perfect stop between urban jaunts. To me, the past few weeks represent The Calm Before I Go to China. 

When was the last time I watched the sun set and saw the stars at night? When have I ever not had to worry about locking up my things? (An aside: there is even less security here than in the cheapest hostels I've stayed in during my travels. I was worried when I first arrived, until I noticed that V kept his DSLR and laptop in plain sight from the door, which all but faces the main road).  

I've embraced the bland-smelling eco soap that we use for everything, the minimal electricity use and limited wi-fi access, and relished not shaving my legs or wearing makeup. Instead of checking my email and social media accounts before lights out, my new ritual is a mug of herbal tea and a good novel. Although I miss certain foods like brie and tacos, obasan's home cooking has led me to embrace the simple deliciousness of miso soup and a bowl of freshly made rice. I feel better, calmer, more productive.

Of the questions people ask me about travel, the most common are whether it gets lonely on the road or if it's hard to acclimate to a different culture. And my answer is that no matter how many thousands of miles you are away from your geographic comfort zone, it's just as easy to slip into a new one somewhere else. Getting there is usually the hard part.

Practical Tips For Traveling & Living Abroad

1. Bank strategically.

Opening a bank account in your new home might be a real pain in the ass. Especially if that new home is in France. Or maybe you won't be staying put long enough such that it's worth the bureaucratic hassle. Accessing your funds from overseas without racking up huge fees can be rough, but certain banks are more helpful than others. Bank of America, for example, is part of an international alliance that lets you withdraw cash from ATMs without paying fees - BNP Paribas in France, BNL Italia in Italy, Barclay's in the UK, Westpac in Australia, etc. I've heard Charles Schwab waives foreign transaction fees. And credit card-wise you can't beat Capital One - they don't charge foreign transaction fees and you can easily set up travel notifications online so your account won't be blocked when you swipe your card overseas.

The downside is that very few American banks have cards with smart chips. This was a huge problem for me in Scandinavia, where I found my cards repeatedly declined. Luckily my travel buddy was there to bail me out and I repaid her later in cash.

2. Get your prescriptions filled early.

It is possible to stock up on months' worth of your prescription medication, but generally that requires a special call to your insurance provider. Another thing to consider is how much space your stash will take up when packing. A single pack of BC might not seem like a lot, ladies, but when you have dozens that's not so much the case. 

3. Verify whether you'll be needing a visa and how long the application may take.

This might seem like an obvious one but consider my friend who was once stranded in Atlanta after being unable to board her flight to Brazil on account of not having a visa. I know, I know, Americans don't need them for many places but it's much better to err on the safe side. Some, like Turkey or Australia, can be purchased easily upon arrival or online ahead of time. Others, like India, require an actual application. 

4. Get immunized.

Allow enough time for this because some require multiple shots that could be spaced as far as four weeks apart.  Tell your travel doctor where you're going and they'll prescribe you some medications that are useful to have just in case.

5. Back up everything in every place imaginable.

Carry extra copies of your passport and visas. Scan them and email them to your family. Save them to Dropbox and Google Docs. Do the same for your travel itinerary.  

6. Unlock your phone.

Oh, wait, that's illegal now. Well if you hopped on the bandwagon before the government got involved, purchasing foreign or international SIM cards for your smartphone can save you a lot on the road. (Nothing is worse than roaming data charges). If you'll be going to a lot of countries for relatively short periods of time, SIM cards from the likes of Telestial, OneSimCard and Doodad are probably best. If you're staying for a while, look into purchasing a local one at the airport - but be careful, sometimes it takes confirmation from your hotel/host before they hand over your new SIM card.

7. Eat like a pro.

Leaving home you'll probably find that the likes of Yelp and Urbanspoon, which collate reviews from users, haven't percolated throughout the rest of the world. Yes, there's always TripAdvisor, but they have a bit of a bad rep when it comes to fake reviews. And, yes I am kind of a food snob, but the masses don't always have the most discerning palates. So it's best to follow the local authorities. In Paris, for example, I relied on Paris By Mouth, which is curated by a group of experienced food writers/editors. For more general traveling and eating (especially street food) tips check out Legal Nomads. Tyler Cowen's Ethnic Dining Guide has good tips for stateside visitors. I also like Where The Fuck Should I Go To Eat. But no matter where you are, chances are there are plenty of local food bloggers with useful insider information.

8. Learn how to shit properly.

I mean it. If you're going to a developing or rural area - especially for the first time - you would do well to memorize this book. It can be redundant at times, but I guarantee you'll learn something from it. (Luckily I never had to resort to using squat toilets, but thanks to Dr. Wilson-Howarth, I know how to if the need arises!)

9. Network.  

Got a friend of a friend or a distant relative in the area that you're visiting? Don't feel awkward about reaching out to them. Even if you just end up meeting up for coffee and not staying at their house, having a local contact is invaluable. Say yes to every invitation, because you never know what could come of it. Like that time I went to a dinner party at my friend's house in Delhi and met the co-director of Slumdog Millionaire.

If you hit it off with your Airbnb or couchsurfing host, stay in touch. You never know when you might be able to return the favor or, maybe, the next time you visit they'll let you crash with them free of charge.  

10. Document it. 

Particularly if you're on a long trip, you need some way to organize your thoughts and memories, whether it's public like this blog or private like the journal I kept whose privacy was violated by an Australian customs agent. I thought I made a good effort, but even now I find I get people, conversations, locations mixed up. There will be no end to new experiences, so keeping them all separate is the hard part.

Adieu

Of all the expats I know, I was the only one who, as the expiration of her visa drew near, was not scrambling to find a way to stay longer. Don't get me wrong - I loved Paris, especially in the beginning, but after a while my feelings started to change.

"It's okay to be 'over' a city," a friend assured me over dinner when I met up with him and his girlfriend back in February.

"But what makes you say that?"

A lot of things, I guess. I previously confessed how upset I was after my phone was stolen, but what I omitted from that account was that I spent the next ten minutes crying on my friend's doorstep as I waited for her to return. As unabashedly attached as I am to my iPhone (0:28 and 0:49 if you're impatient; 0:40 is my dearest brother who tricked me into being on camera) that was just the final straw in an emotional breakdown that had been brewing since my family had departed a day earlier, leaving me with a stronger sense of homesickness than ever before, and since my Facebook newsfeed was starting to feel less like keeping in touch than being constantly reminded of everything I was missing out on at home. I was beginning to feel irrelevant, because no matter how many apps you have you can never be in two places at once.

As I sat there crying in the middle of the very residential 15ème, people kept passing me by with that uncomfortable side glance and quickened step normally reserved for panhandlers and public drunkards. In other words, no fucks were given. (My psychology-expert friend later told me that this is more of a human nature thing than a Parisian thing). Fortunately I had only been pickpocketed, but what if it had been worse? What if I had been assaulted? No one bothered to ask me if I was okay or needed to call the police, so instead I sat there stewing in my own self-pity until my friend came home and made me a cup of tea.

I suppose that marked the beginning of the end of the honeymoon period. In the weeks that followed two of my friends, on separate occasions, were mugged. (And, mind you, they were guys of a stature that doesn't really scream target). I traveled to the Loire Valley, Brittany and Normandy, and for the first time interacted with non-Parisian French people, discovering that they were so much kinder and more generous than their capital-dwelling countrymen. In other words Paris no longer felt as safe or welcoming.

Things that had previously seemed charming became frustrating, like the open-air markets that I admired because they so exceeded farmers markets back home. Yet as the weeks wore on I came to hate Sundays because grocery stores (and virtually all other businesses) were closed, and I was often too hungover to go to the market and shop before it shut down for the day. (Yes, it was my own goddamn fault, but recovering from an all-night bender has the unfortunate side effect of being irrationally angry with the world at large). The Metro, once so friendly and convenient, became less inviting when I began to notice all the men trying and failing to discreetly urinate in the tunnels connecting the platforms. (I'm told that the walls are slightly slanted such that the consequent splashing will deter this behavior, however the persistent stench indicates that the effort is unsuccessful). And the sidewalks dotted with dog poop shifted from a comical nuisance to an irrevocable scourge on the reputation of a city that, to me, was gradually eroding before my eyes.

Oh, Paris, in one year I've only just brushed the surface. If there's anything about living abroad that I might have remorse for later it's that I never really integrated with the local culture; in fact in a lot of ways I cheated. During my first few months I lived with a French girl who occasionally invited me out with her friends, which was a nice gesture but difficult for me because by the time I had thought of something to contribute to the conversation, it had already moved on. Twice. The international student body at LCB introduced me to friends from around the world, and my food truck coworkers, for the most part, likewise consisted of expats. Part of why I struggled so much with the social aspect of my internship was that it was the first time I had spent a significant amount of time around Francophones, and by that point I had become accustomed to living with one foot out the door, so to speak. I knew kitchen vocabulary but I was far from being conversant in the language, which is why during breaks I tended to pull out my phone and catch up on my Twitter feed because even making small talk was a challenge.

Were there things I would have done differently if I had the chance? Absolutely. But I don't really believe in regret, and besides, for all of the little setbacks and disappointments there were just as many - probably more - pleasant surprises and unexpected opportunities.

When I look back there are certain images that will likely forever be branded unto my memory, like watching fireworks light up the Eiffel Tower on Bastille Day, opening the door of the food truck for dinner service and seeing a hundred hungry faces already lined up, or biking home in the silent hours of the early morning after a night out. But I think more than any particular thing I did while I was here, it's the people I met and befriended that really shaped the experience. I hope to see all of you again soon, but until then...we'll always have Paris.

À la prochaine, chers amis.

Bisous,

M

Packing for a RTW Trip

In two days I leave for a long-awaited and meticulously planned journey that will take me south, then east, to every continent except Antarctica and South America as I gradually make my way home to the US over the course of the next three months.  Preparation has been vital (just look at my giant Google spreadsheet full of flights, trains, hostel and Airbnb reservations), but what made this trip tricky is that I'm doing it all with a carry-on. This won't be a backpacking trip in the sense that I'm not using a backpack (I'm so short I would just look like that little kid from the movie Up, not to mention I sweat like a motherfucker and in previous experiences backpacks just exacerbate it) nor am I going to the jungle or climbing mountains. Nope, I'm just your average urban explorer with a small rolling suitcase.

Here's what I'm taking:

- Painstakingly curated selection of clothing

- My two North Face jackets for after I cross the equator (one of them even folds up inside the pocket)

- Shower shoes, Jesus sandals and espadrilles

- Toiletries and make-up (liquids ready to go in a Ziploc bag) 

- iPad with Bluetooth keyboard case

- Day bag

- DSLR with wide-angle lens

- Moleskine

- A bunch of drugs prescribed to me by a travel doctor here in Paris. Everything is in French so hopefully if/when the time comes I'll know how to use them properly...