Packing, Packers, Pack Rats, Packed

We're big fans of Rick Steves.  His website had a ridiculous amount of information on how to pack for Europe.  It didn't seem at all possible to get by on the scant quantities he recommended and I ignored his suggestions completely in 2011 when we went for 16 days.  I packed all sorts of full outfits, scarves and jewelry, accessorizing completely and thoroughly for every possible occasion, from nightclubs to fine dining.   I filled every square inch of my wheeled suitcase.

I brought sink soap for washing clothes midway, an emergency sewing kit, an emergency medical kit, a European charger and a travel size extension outlet.  I had, zippered into the lining of my suitcase, copies of my passport, all credit card information, an extra prescription in case of theft and a photo copy of my Colorado drivers license.  Yes, I was a girl scout, why do you ask?

And to my credit, I followed one piece of Rick Steves advice.  I brought some older clothes that I could throw away on the trip to make room for souvenirs.  Brilliant suggestion.  Bye bye grey bulky sweater and cream bulky sweater!  Hello Venetian glass beaded jewelry.

Year two rolls around and in 2012 we purchased back packs.  And darned if I didn't get everything into that small bag.  I ditched the emergency kit and brought almost no toiletries.  I pared down to 3 pairs of pants.  And 7 days of socks and undies.  A down coat and a few shirts and we were on our way.  One pair of back up shoes.  And the only thing I regretted was bringing two cashmere sweaters instead of just one and not enough short sleeve shirts.  Wasn't expecting warm weather in November, but it's more apt to have been my personal airspace has a tendency to overheat from time to time.  It does that when you are in your 50's.

As Rick Steve's says, in Europe, you can buy your way out of any emergency.  Turns out they have shampoo, conditioner, toothpaste and clothing all over the continent.  It was easy to pick out toiletries in foriegn languages, they look just like they do here.  Even the brands are the same.  And traveling with a backpack is easier in many places with the rough paved cobblestones and small passageways in medieval cities.

On the way home this trip, we bought a ton of Swiss chocolate, Italian leather and silk scarves.  With no place to put it, we bought a new suitcase too.   Rick Steve's was right, it was easy!

I lived in three pairs of pants, a few shirts and a couple of sweaters and it worked out just fine.  We washed out clothes once in our 16 days.  At the end of the trip, I was still able to throw out some things, turned out my new socks already had holes in them.  We walked all over Europe and I even put a serious dent in the brand new shoes I took with me.  Never once did I use the backup shoes by the way, so next time, It'll just be one pair of uber comfortable, kick butt boots for me.

If you're wondering why you didn't get any Italian leather, it's because this year I bought for myself instead of everyone else.  You can go to Italy too you know....

When in Rome....

We've learned a lot on our travels about how others live, primarily because we took advantage of some non-traditional living arrangements.  Instead of hotels, we stayed in converted home to B&B's, a Paris apartment, a friend's Tuscan villa and in a New York apartment.

No one in Europe seems to own clothes dryers.  Dryers are energy hogs, and most folks hang their laundry to dry.  Drying racks were available in our Paris apartment, although with the constant rain it took two full days to dry everything out.   The hallways are frequently motion sensored to light up only when someone is in need of light.  Everyone uses energy efficient light bulbs as well.

In the Zurich hotel and airport, even the escalators are on power conserve and only move when you step onto them.

How frustrated they must be when they see how much energy Americans use?  They know climate change is real and keep wondering when the US will catch on.  Our oil and gas companies have done a masterful job of bullshitting the American public with the same PR machine that used to serve the tobacco industry.  If you still "question the science" of climate change, just like you may have "questioned the dangers of cigarettes", I invite you to watch the documentary "Chasing Ice".  No questions left after that one.

So after traveling these past several years, we had some decisions to make.  Our three cars are all ten years or older and we were debating the next steps.  One week only one was functional, the other two were at the garage for repairs.  One early option was to get a brand new Toyota Yaris.  We had narrowed the field to good gas mileage vehicles without being electric until they sort out the carbon footprint on those dang batteries.  They're on the cusp but not quite there.  Test driving was fun for awhile, and we tested the Smart car, the Fiat 500, the Nissan Rogue and the Toyota Yaris before deciding on the Yaris.

Then we talked again and made a conscious decision not to buy another fossil fuel vehicle.  Our next car will now be electric, and we are willing to wait to spend our money on a good electric car in a few years.  Other decisions and mindsets have changed for me as well.  I will walk sometimes to the grocery store if I only need one bag of items.  We live in a great walking neighborhood and I could get to my dentist and doctor if I owned a bike.   So we will invest in bikes this spring when the weather heats up.

I will wear my clothes more before laundering them.   We now pack one bag for Europe and buy another one over there to bring back souveneirs, but we can make do with three pairs of pants for 16 days.

I know from my work with civil engineers that one of the greatest energy costs we have is moving water.  So every ounce we can conserve we save dramatic amounts of energy.  We switched over to the newer bulbs in our lamps and fixtures.  We turn our thermostat down nightly (it's not programmable in our apartment).   Washing only full loads of both clothes and dishes.

We have an 11 year old, but are already thinking about our next "space".  I've found a great new trend called "tiny houses" and we are totally enrolled in being in a much smaller space.  I think the whole idea of having the big house that family can all come to for holidays is a waste of space the other 360 days of the year.  How about we rent a great big house for the holiday week?

Every time we go to Ikea my husband gets very enamored of having a smaller space.  "We can live in 540 square feet!  We can have a murphy bed in the living room for when Nicho comes (stepson lives with us alternating weeks)."  I think that's unrealistic for a soon to be teenage boy who will want his own space, but I'm open to a smaller 2 bedroom.

When we were in London, our hotel room had one foot on one side of a double bed smashed against a wall and my husband literally cleaned the shower stall when he turned around in it.   In Rome, the shower opening had both of us contorting to get into it. In Paris, our one bedroom apartment had the smallest kitchen I'd ever seen, until we visited New York.  That apartment also had a tiny kitchen.  I made do in both.  No problem.

Cities=small.  Countryside=large.  That has been our experience.  For us, we pick cities and small.   No offense to my Tuscan Villa owning friends:)

Big City at night

We decided together that the one and only Broadway show we would want to see was "Wicked".  All of us could enjoy it, it was family friendly fare, and I had loved the book long before the play had come out.  Nicho and Richard both loved the music and although Richard had seen it before with daughter Lindley, it was going to be my and Nicho's first time.   Nicho had his chance to dress up with tie and jacket and we rode the subway into the city with high anticipation.

There were so many restaurants to choose from that we hadn't made a reservation, preferring instead to be "in the moment" and see what showed up.  Less than a block from the Gershwin Theater we found our place, an upscale, modern restaurant with a soaring ceiling and a pricey menu.  Perfect.

Avoiding the pasta sauces, we dove into our dinner, snapping lots of shots throughout the meal, then making our way through the happy crowds to our destination.  The Gershwin is lovely, everything you would want in a theater and there truly isn't a bad seat in the house.  We climbed the stairs to our seats and settled in for the show.

And then it began.  The low rumbling, squirming movement of "what the hell did I eat"?  All through the fantastical and funny show it went.  My mostly silent suffering was undetected by Nicho and Richard.  We laughed, we cried, we applauded and we thoroughly enjoyed the fabulous cast of this year's "Wicked".  Once it was over, we were looking at a very long subway ride home, so off I went to the bathroom.  And the line was incredible.    Ladies, you know that feeling!  It's packed, don't dare take too long, need to wait!  Some relief?  Maybe later?  Oh no, we still have that subway ride.

I darted in and out and then down two flights of stairs, still clear I was not fit for a long subway ride.  By now Nicho was the proud owner of a ballcap with Wicked emblazoned on it.  Ah!  Another bathroom.  Empty.  Whew.

Stepping outside of the theater, one of the bicycle cabs was right up on the sidewalk outside of the Gershwin.  And a guard was uncerimoneously grabbing him by the collar and shoving him and his cab off the walkway.  The cabbie was smiling and apologizing and the guard was loud, New York, and unashamedly rough.  It was uncomfortable to watch.

Now I can tolerate the subway ride home.  So it's around 11PM and we pile into a packed car.  At the end of the car.  And the shuffling, pained faced and homeless man who followed us in kept staring at us, happily seated at the end of the car.  Standing, he asked if we would be on long.  Twice.  Richard replied "yes", but that we would happily give up our seat.  He declined.  After two interactions I stood up and walked to another section.   Nicho was right behind me, but Richard stayed put.

We had all noticed the smell, it was obvious he hadn't bathed in a very long time and further, that he had some kind of foot infection.  Later I found out he had eventually told Richard that his feet hurt.  I finally commented to Nicho how grateful we must be, we both knew where we were going to sleep tonight, that man didn't.  About this time I glanced at the other end of the car and realized we were now the interlopers.  Both ends of the car were being occupied by folks seeking shelter for the night in the heated subway cars.  The man at the other end had his shopping cart filled with belongings and looked to already be asleep.

Richard eventually joined us, after finally insisting that the man sit down and we rode quietly out to our apartment as the car emptied out like a ketchup bottle on the long the ride home.

On another night, we passed a highly intoxicated and possibly drugged young woman who was not rousing with her friends encouragement.  She was seated on the cold cement of the sidewalk and was unable to sit up without support.  Others nearby strongly suggested she needed medical help. Her short dress and no coat were no match for the chilly night and there was real concern about her condition.  We kept walking and five minutes later heard the sound of a siren, hopefully called to help her.

We never felt threatened or at risk for a mugging.  We actually felt very safe, and the only time I was uncomfortable (other than the gastroturbulence at Wicked!) was the night we went late to Times Square.  The packed humanity made it hard to stay together and I was just not a fan of the crowded area.  It was as bright as the Vegas strip too.  There were a number of street performers dressed in costumes and it reminded me of both Paris and Rome that way.  People paid to have their picture taken with them, it's how we ended up with Nicho and Super Mario.

My best memories of night are both the 30 Rock Christmas decorations and the lovely area of Little Italy.  We had dined in Chinatown one night and walking home, passed under the Christmas lights of Little Italy, with hawkers outside of each restaurant; "Come in!  We have the best food in Little Italy!". "Try our Tirimisu, it's the best in Little Italy!".  "Come in, we have reserved the best table for you!"

Another night, we dined at a bizarre little restaurant near our apartment.  Spur of the moment with no reservation, it was mostly empty.  Bad sign?  But it was warm and the food smelled good, so in we went.  It couldn't have been more than 20 feet square, including a kitchen that was open to the room.   It was decorated in gauzy white, hot as hell, and the service was sketchy but dramatic. When we asked about the wine, they only had one glass of one wine.  What we took to be a display of the four types they served were actually the only four bottles (all already opened) in the entire restaurant.  I have no recall of the food, but we did enjoy eavesdropping on what was very obviously a first date at the table next to us.  Dude likely wouldn't get a second date after that place.