If all had gone according to plan, about now Rich and I would have been leaving Albania replete with amusing anecdotes, zingy photos, and shqeto soup from the Lunxheri region of Gjirokaster. Instead, we’re in my home region of California for the next few weeks, possibly months, to support family during a difficult time. And we are happy — honored — to be able to do it. But every once in a while I catch Rich gazing wistfully at his suitcase or a map he’s putting away in a drawer, and I get to thinking about smaller, closer-to-home adventures we might be able to squeeze in while we're here.
It turns out that my home state is peculiarly rich in goofy roadside attractions. Some don’t actually seem worth going very far out of our way to see: the World’s Largest Raisin Box at the Sun-Maid store, for instance, or Glass Beach, whose “pebbles” are a relic of days when the city threw its bottles and other trash into the sea, or Toad Hollow, a series of underpasses constructed by the city of Davis in a well-intentioned but dubiously successful effort to ensure the local toad population could cross safely under a new six-lane highway to reach their favorite wetlands. There is, of course, a Bigfoot Discovery Museum which explores the really important questions, like whether Bigfoot is paranormal and what UFOs have to do with it all.
Some “attractions” are little more than clever marketing. Weed City (motto: “Weed like to welcome you!”) was a fading lumber town until entrepreneurial spirits realized Americans would drive miles out of their way to take a selfie against the backdrop of a town sign that apparently referenced marijuana. Other sites have a bit more to offer, but clearly aren’t for everybody. Bumpass Hell (yes, named for a Mr. Bumpass who discovered it) is a 16-acre geothermal quagmire of boiling springs, oozing mud pots, hissing steam vents, and slits in the ground belching sulfurous gas. To me, that sounds about as much fun as visiting the real Hades, but if you decide to give it a go, I want a full report.
Family fun can be found at events such as Gilroy’s famous Garlic Festival, held the last weekend in July. “Pyro chefs” prepare garlic-laden dishes of every variety over vast, roaring fires, and if you need to refresh your palate afterwards, try the free garlic ice cream. There are a few “vampire friendly” (non-garlic) dishes on offer, but why bother?
Another place I’ve heard about forever but never visited is Esalen, where everybody (including my mother) went to find themselves in the seventies, jumping into New Age workshops and the famous clothing-optional hot tubs (which my mother allegedly skipped). Today the consciousness-raising courses continue, with subjects such as EcoMeditation, Visionseeker: the Shaman's Path to Illumination, and Navel Intelligence: a Journey into the Core of You. I feel more enlightened just reading about this stuff, don’t you?
California may be a hotbed of offbeat destinations, but it’s not the only state with offerings designed to make you blink. America’s love affair with highway travel gave rise to Nebraska’s Carhenge, a reproduction of Stonehenge constructed (you guessed it) out of automobiles and trucks. In Texas, an art installation called Cadillac Ranch features a long line of cars buried nose-first in the dirt at an angle corresponding to that of the Great Pyramid of Giza in Egypt. Adding your own graffiti to the Cadillac Ranch installation is encouraged; amazingly, it's totally frowned on at the Great Pyramid. Go figure. And if you're anywhere around Detroit (known to its friends as the Motor City or Motown), you might want to swing by the airport for a glimpse of the World’s Largest Tire, a 12-ton, 80-foot-tall monster that began life as a Ferris wheel promoting Uniroyal at the 1964 New York World’s Fair.
I’m not sure I’ll be driving 2,380 miles to Motown to gawk at the World’s Largest Tire, or even 94 miles to the Bigfoot Discovery Museum. But I greatly appreciate all the zany cultural artifacts this country has to offer, many of which are close enough to visit on a day trip or weekend if I need a quick getaway. I may not be able to sample Albanian shqeto soup right now, but then again, how many Albanians get to eat garlic ice cream?
Have you visited any offbeat roadside attractions? Tell me all!
Unlike some of my better-organized and more practical blogger friends, I do not accept sponsorships of any kind. All roadside attractions, goods, and services mentioned in my blog posts are included solely because I believe you might find them interesting and/or useful in planning your own adventures.
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“Yoga is not about tightening your ass. It’s about getting your head out of it,” says Eric Paskel, one of yoga’s more outlandish champions. Luckily for us, it actually does both.
Modern yoga is the result of 5,000 years of experimenting with ways that simple exercises and breathing techniques enhance our physical and mental wellbeing. When I feel particularly discombobulated from crossing time zones, or stiff and achy from too many hours in a car or plane, I find yoga helps me bounce back enough to get on with the journey — and better still, to enjoy it.
Discovering a suitable yoga studio on the road can be challenging. In Mexico I attended a class where they had us get down on all fours and charge around the room imitating animals. It was kind of fun, but I didn’t feel it was doing much for my ass, literally or metaphorically. When I moved to Spain, I attended a class where we lay on mattresses doing a long, slow series of resting poses (child’s pose, corpse pose), and after each one we would simply lie there relaxing for ten minutes. Somehow I felt I needed a bit more! It took me years to find the right teachers near my home in Seville, and nowadays I no longer bother trying to find instructors when I am further afield.
Actually, that’s not quite true; I have found 369,000 instructors. That’s how many hits you get if you type “yoga for travel” on YouTube's search function.
There are videos for just about everything you can imagine (and more): Jet Lag, Yoga on an Airplane, Chair Yoga, Booty Stretch, Beach Yoga, Dream Yoga Astral Travel, and one about the Yoga of Time Travel that I’m absolutely going to check out when I have a minute.
Obviously, you’ll want to be a bit selective.
If you’ve never done yoga or any similar form of exercise, such as Pilates or warm-up stretches, you might want to choose one of YouTube’s beginner yoga videos (there are over a million) and give it a try first, just to see how you like it.
The instructors tend to be slim, incredibly fit, and (in my case, at least) decades younger; try not to hold it against them. And if possible, resist any impulses to compete or overdo it, especially at the beginning; the point is to reduce your aches and pains. Go slow, be gentle with yourself, and see how you feel afterwards.
Some classes and videos involve working with props, but you don’t really need them. My California yoga instructor always carries a lightweight folding mat in her suitcase, but I favor a more minimalist approach to packing. If I’m someplace with carpeting or a reasonably clean floor, I use a towel, usually one I’ve grabbed from the bathroom, although sometimes I carry a small microfiber towel. If the floor is appallingly grubby, I work standing up or sitting on a chair. When a posture calls for a strap, I use a belt or scarf. “The most important pieces of equipment you need for doing yoga,” says 30-year veteran Rodney Yee, “are your body and your mind.”
Two years ago I was feeling occasional twinges in my lower legs, and a doctor told me I was part of the epidemic of sciatica that is sweeping the developed world. The cause? “We are the first generation to age hunched over a computer,” he explained. Yikes! Nowadays I make sure to include plenty of leg stretches in my yoga practice, and often do tennis ball therapy as well. So far I’m keeping the twinges at bay.
How popular is yoga? Last year, the UN named June 21 as International Yoga Day; millions of people in 84 nations gathered to practice en masse in places ranging from public parks to Navy ships. Indian guru Sri Sri Ravi Shankar said, “We need to take yoga to the doorstep of everyone and free the world of misery.” I’m guessing he meant achieving nirvana, but personally, I’ll settle for a little relief from jet lag, sciatica, and the bumps and dings of the road.
I have learned that in harder times, yoga is one of the things that keeps me going. (The others include Rich, Havana Cappuccino, and dark chocolate.) Yoga is a port in the storm, a safe place where I can catch my breath and remember who, what, and where I am. Eric Paskal, a former drug addict who knows a thing or two about hard times, puts it this way: “Yoga is not about standing on your head or hands, it’s about learning how to stay on your feet and being able to stand for yourself.”
Have you ever done yoga? Did it help with road jitters or other issues?
Unlike some of my better-organized and more practical blogger friends, I do not accept sponsorships of any kind. All videos and other products I mention in my blog posts are included solely because I believe you might find them interesting and/or useful in planning your own adventures.
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I am a latecomer to one of the world’s most spectacular inventions, Cuban café con leche, which is thicker, foamier, and creamier than … well, just about any coffee ever invented. It was love at first sip when I casually ordered one at Miami’s David’s Café in February, and a lifesaver during the final, bumpy days of my stay in Havana. Yesterday I was thrilled to discover that California-based Peet’s coffee houses have introduced their own version, known as the Havana Cappuccino. Is that really worth blogging about? Yep. Because these days, it’s the simple pleasures that are keeping me going.
What else am I doing? Mostly barreling down California freeways with Rich at the wheel, visiting hospitals, sick rooms, pharmacies, and high-end organic markets where I’m dispatched to find esoteric delicacies to tempt fickle palates. My phone is glued to my ear as I confer with insurance companies and out-of-town relatives. I’ve abandoned the civilized habits I acquired in Europe, a place where meals are leisurely and cars don’t even have cup holders. We’re gobbling snacks in the car and and wolfing down meals at random hours. This video is not actual footage from my life, but it sort of captures the spirit.
Now, when I need to cheer myself up, I’m grabbing a Havana Cappuccino. And if I need to cheer Rich up, I talk about apps. As I may have mentioned in prior posts, Rich has something of a fixation — OK, an obsession — with apps. It started in 2013, when he bought an iPad for our 13-country railway adventure, and he’s been on a quest for the best travel techno-toys ever since. In times of stress, I can always turn his thoughts to a more cheerful direction by saying, “Tell me more about that new app…”
His latest fave is Booking Now, which we employed for the first time during our headlong dash from Palermo to California last week. Listing last-minute lodging deals, it enabled us to pay about half the going rate for a charming boutique hotel near the Rome airport. We often use the parent company, Booking.com, which has 900,000+ listings and 89 million reviews to help you choose wisely.
For longer stays, we usually seek something homier from Airbnb, a peer-to-peer rental site that offers everything from a shared room (not that we’ll be doing that!) to an entire apartment (our usual choice) to a castle (maybe someday). We occasionally stay at hostels, when we can find one that offers a private room with it’s own bathroom, found via HostelBookers or Hostelworld.
For researching destinations, we love Triposo, which sifts through millions of websites to find background information about practically the entire planet. Occasionally — and this just happened to us in Sardinia — we are thrilled to find ourselves in a spot so obscure even Triposo doesn’t know its details. We used to call this being out there, but now it’s going beyond Triposo.
Sadly, our old favorite train app, iRail, is no longer among the functional, but fortunately we can rely on Germany’s DB Navigator to show us railway timetables for most of Europe. We look forward to the day we find ourselves going beyond DB Navigator.
On long adventures, we keep a few folks back home apprised of our whereabouts via a private link on Track My Tour. Rich uses his iPhone to mark our locations and add notes about where we’re off to next; those entrusted with the link have sworn to keep an eye on our progress and, if we disappear, ride to the rescue.
For other kinds of emergencies, we have !Emergency!, which is the equivalent of an international 911 line. To help ourselves (or others) at the scene, we have the American Red Cross’s First Aid and Google's Translate, although it is my fervent hope that I never have to combine these, for instance attempting to apply a tourniquet while looking up the word “help” in Albanian. (For the record, it’s ndihmë.) XE Currency will let us calculate the medical bills, and to keep in practice, we use it often to figure out our bar tabs.
Today I learned there is an app for a Peet’s card, which would make it even easier to guzzle my new favorite coffee. But I’m not going to tell Rich about it. He’s already worried that I’m going too native here in my home state and might soon be living on tofu burgers, kale chips, and half-decaf Havana Cappuccinos made with low-fat soy milk. But if you have any other great travel apps, please send me the link and tell me about them! Rich will be absolutely thrilled...
Unlike some of my better-organized and more practical blogger friends, I do not accept sponsorships of any kind. All apps and other stuff I mention in my blog posts are there solely because I believe you might find them interesting and useful in planning your own adventures.
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I'm an American writer living in Seville, Spain and traveling the world with my husband, Rich. I make frequent trips to the USA, especially my native California, because America is something you have to stay in practice for, and I don't want to lose my touch.
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