Tag: Travel

Where Next? The Tyranny of Too Many Choices

How might you choose among the following travel destinations if you had unlimited time and money?

Usually at this time of year, I begin to dream about where I might go on my next big vacation. This West Side girl needs to get herself back out into the big wide world! The problem is, there are too many places I’d like to go and not enough time to see them all (I’m not getting any younger), so how do I choose?

As always, I’ve organized my options into five buckets, but this year I’m soliciting advice. How might you choose among the following if you had unlimited time and money? (I don’t have either one, but heck, we’re dreaming here.)

Riding bikes along a canal is a scenic, easy going, and affordable option.

An Active Vacation: I try to stay fit so active vacations—where I get a sufficient amount of exercise every day—are always at the top of my list. I’ve investigated opportunities for bicycle trips across Europe, scenic walks on old pilgrimage routes, and heart-pumping hikes through national parks ranging from Alaska to Chile. But I’m thinking this year, why not do something local, like a bike ride along the Erie Canal from Buffalo to Rochester? Its attraction? It’s mostly flat (and affordable).

An Ancestry Vacation: Like many who have delved into genealogy or spit into a tube and had their DNA tested, I’ve found that I have distant relatives all over the place, to include far-away lands like Turkey and Egypt. I have recently learned, though, that ten generations of one line of my family hail from lovely Switzerland, home of the Alps, edelweiss, Lindt chocolate, Lake Lucerne, and the Bernina Express railway. Previous visits to distant relatives in other foreign countries have led to surprisingly warm and welcoming receptions, so why not explore one’s roots in a place of stunning beauty?

Oh, to visit family in the majestic Alps of Switzerland!

A Somewhere-I’ve-Never-Been-Before Vacation: Yes, I am one of those people addicted to the new and different, so going to places I’ve never been is always a thrill. There are several islands in the Mediterranean Sea, for example, like Elba (where Napoleon was exiled), Corsica (a French island with white sand beaches), and Sardinia (home to a herd of albino donkeys) that I’ve never set foot upon. Another option I like is visiting small countries not usually on the list of tourist hot spots, like the Baltic countries of Latvia, Lithuania and Estonia. Finally, I’ve never been anywhere in the Middle East so Egypt and Jordan rise to the top of this list for obvious historical and cultural reasons.

Who doesn’t love to walk among the world’s most exotic animals?

A Wildlife Vacation: I can never get too much of the natural world, and I’d rather travel 1,000 miles to see an exotic bird or mammal than a foreign country’s Hard Rock Café. The photo safari experience I had in Africa’s Serengeti was one of the highlights of my life, but I hear that Costa Rica, a place not as far geographically speaking, has more than its fair share of gorgeous flora and fauna. Furthermore, it costs far less than traveling to Africa, and the flight is shorter and easier on the old bod.

One of the benefits of working in a national park is access to beautiful, unspoiled places that tourists seldom get a chance to see.

A Working Vacation: Hold on now. I’m not talking about having your phone glued to your ear and the office calling you 24/7. I’m talking about volunteering somewhere, like a state or national park, that depends on free labor to supplement the work of their limited full-time staff. I had a wonderful vacation in Rocky Mountain National Park one year, working with park rangers on controlling the spread of invasive species. Although some of the day was spent working, I got to enjoy the park and see parts of it I wouldn’t have otherwise. Another bonus: volunteers receive free admission to the park on the days they work, and may receive free camping or other accommodations depending on the project and its duration. I’d love to work in one of the Southwest national parks like White Sands, Carlsbad Caverns, or Big Bend (but preferably not in the summer!).

So, friends help me out here. If you had to choose, where would you go? Please share your thoughts in the comments, below.

Moxie Gardiner is a writer, gardener, and traveler who grew up on the West Side of Buffalo, NY. In a previous life she was a journalist, magazine editor, speech writer, and policy wonk. Back in the day she made three solo parachute jumps, flew in an F-15 fighter jet, and crawled through mud pits at the Jungle Operations Training Course in Panama. She now meditates and practices yoga. She is almost ready to publish her first novel, set in Buffalo.

It Bit Me on the Rocks of Lake Erie

Lake Erie shoreline. Photo by Moxie Gardiner.

Several readers have put the question to me: “Moxie, your website says ‘A West Side Girl in the Big Wide World.’ We’ve heard about your West Side experiences. What’s this ‘Big Wide World’ stuff?” Fair enough. Living on the West Side of Buffalo shaped the outline of who I am. The big wide world has certainly filled in the details.

Since I left Buffalo, I’ve lived in four US states and a foreign capital, visited 45 countries and all 50 states. My most recent adventures were in Africa, where among other things, I caught a leopard (on camera) that was stalking me in the dark. On my journeys I’ve seen extreme poverty and extraordinary wealth, spectacular scenic beauty and tragic wastelands, humanity at its best and at its worst. Always, I keep a journal.

As a writer, my job is to look for and contemplate universal truths. A recent question I’ve been pondering is, what prompts a person to leave the comfort of their home to travel? What are we seeking on our sojourns, especially now when one can “travel” anywhere without leaving the couch, courtesy of the Internet? I’m not talking about annual beach vacations or trips to visit friends and family over the holidays. I am talking about traveling to distant lands that are culturally unfamiliar, sometimes uncomfortable, and not without risk. These are the places that tend to attract me because I’m a sucker for unexpected experiences, for the serendipitous surprise.

I think I can trace the day I was first bitten by the travel bug to a place just 20 miles south of Buffalo. I was about 11 years old. Each summer, our family would pile into the station wagon and head to our rented cottage in Angola, NY and a windswept beach nearby called Point Breeze. This particular summer, my cousin and I were allowed to leave the family beach blanket and walk a half mile up the beach by ourselves to a rocky outcropping we grandly called “the sea cliffs.”

From a distance we could see the waves crashing over the slate rocks, and on stormy days the spray would leap 20 feet in the air. Wouldn’t it be wonderful, we thought, to sit on those rocks and get splashed by that wild spray? We hurried along the pebbly beach as fast as our flip-flops would take us. We scrambled up the hill, and as soon as our parents were safely out of sight, climbed carefully down the embankment to where water met rock. We sat and waited for the spray. To our disappointment, the waves had settled down and lapped gently at the rocks below us. We inched our way down further. The waves came up around our ankles, so we scooted down another foot, and waited.

Whether the wind shifted or it was simply the normal fluctuation of the waves, I’ll never know. But the next wave that hit came up over our heads. I’ll never forget the force of the water as it pulled us into the lake and the somersaults we turned as the water churned us below the rocks. We came up coughing and gasping for air. I looked at my cousin as we treaded water—and we started laughing hysterically. “Let’s do it again!” we both said and climbed back onto the rocks.

How did that prompt my love for travel and adventure? I learned that day about the adrenaline rush of exploration, of taking risks, the electricity of finding yourself in danger, and the thrill, afterwards, of being alive. Why, if I could survive this, I could survive anything! Sitting on those rocks I would let my mind wander to the Wide World of Sports and the cliff divers in Mexico, then on to climbing the Great Pyramids of Giza, Machu Picchu, perhaps even Mount Everest. My 11-year-old self decided that nothing would stop me from doing what I wanted to do, as long as I didn’t let fear get in the way.

Sure, there have been a few downsides. I’ve been injured, sick, lost, robbed, and harassed on my travels, and survived a few scary plane flights. I’ve had to flee more than one burning building, wear a flak jacket on a road favored by terrorists, and hold my breath when a bus driver did a u-turn in front of six lanes of oncoming traffic. But oh, the stories I could tell!

The big wide world is a fabulous place that provides grist for the writer, a classroom for the intellectually curious, and cultural and culinary immersion for us rank sensualists. Not least of all, it gives us a better appreciation of home and the things we sometimes take for granted.

Do you have an interest in travel, dear reader? Do you remember when you were first bitten by the travel bug? If so, drop me a line. If there is enough interest, I’ll add a few travel blogs to my website.