traveling alone

I have always been good at traveling alone.

Don't get me wrong, I do like traveling with people. Especially if I'm going somewhere I've never really been before, and *especially* if it's somewhere that's going to be miles outside of my comfort zone. It really helps, when one has a combination of no direction sense and an inability to understand language in stressful situations, to have someone along with both those things.

However, if I'm going somewhere that's very likely to be within my comfort zone, I really enjoy traveling alone.

I'm a high-energy traveler, as a general rule. I'm not big on lying around on beaches or at swimming pools, though evenings spent writing are always appreciated. I'll eat just about anything strange I can find, I go on random hikes, I walk everywhere I can. (I walk, and I walk, and I walk. If I can walk there, I generally won't take a car.) I ignore the weather; temperatures that would send me scurrying for the shade at home are somehow more tolerable on vacation. I don't sleep very well in new places, so I’m usually up at the crack of dawn, ready to shower and take off for the day.

(A big exception to this is the writing retreats I do; but those are a vacation of a different sort.)

It's interesting to talk to Laura and Bryan about this; for them, a big part of the appeal of travel is having someone to talk to about it, to say, "Did you see that?" and "Wasn't that so cool?" That's something I never even thought of as part of the appeal of travel. I go, I stuff my head full with new things, and then I take some silence to process everything.

It turns out that I am very likely (as in, about 90% sure) going to Hawaii by myself this fall. I've been there once, when I was in high school, and I loved it and have wanted to go back ever since. When the opportunity came open, I decided I was going to be self-indulgent and return to the islands.

I really want to do some hikes while I'm there, but hiking by myself in a state far from home is a different prospect than doing a hike near home; one of the first rules of hiking is to always tell someone where you're going, the route you'll be taking, and when you are going to be arriving back. Not exactly possible when I'm by myself. So I'll bite the bullet and go out with a group or two, I think, which provides a safety net and also means that I don't have to pore over topo maps and plot routes.

But I will go, and there will be plants to commune with, an egregiously twisty road to navigate, good food to eat and utterly wringing-wet air to breathe. My skin will probably love me, a lot. (Right now, it hates me; it is in a nasty dry post-winter funk right now, and no amount of Aveda Hand Relief will stop its sulking. I have promised it a salt scrub in a couple of weeks.)

And it will be good.

*****

My dad turned 60 on the 9th. I meant to call him but I didn't manage to get to it on the day itself, and so last night he called me. I happened to be in Party City shopping for silver paper plates when he called, and for whatever reason (temporary insanity?) decided to actually take the call and get it over with.

So we chat for a few minutes, and I say happy birthday, and then he starts telling me about the cat that lives with him and my mom, Patches. Evidently, he's ill. He was lovingly describing exactly what was coming out of both ends of the cat when I managed to head him off with a well-timed, "Dad, the cell phone battery is dying, I'll talk to you later."

It was even true. Never was the chirp of a battery going flat so welcome.

*****

By the way, behind the cut is my playlist I use when I'm writing Tiamat's Kittens, slightly annotated.

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