Categories
Medical Travel

Day 1981 and Unpacking Your Stuff

I write about packing so much on this daily blog that you’d think I’d have an equally large collection of posts on the art of unpacking. I enjoy unpacking emotions, family systems work, a complicated social graph so why not my travel bags?

The forethought and execution required for a well packed travel bag in summer high season is a tactical exercise I both love and loath. My husband and I compete on who can most effectively compress down different categories of items from first aid kits to travel cosmetics.

I am however in my mind not a particularly fastidious unpacker. Or maybe I am? I repack my bags on the return leg as closely as possible to resemble the outbound packing trip. There are labeled bags for under garments, separates, and dresses.

I’ll transition some garments into a bag that is designated laundry, but I’ll almost always take laundry detergent with me. So it’s not unusual for me to make a return trip with clean clothing. When one travels as much as I do it can help to treat as much of road life as you would your regular life.

I unpack immediately upon arrival at my destination whether that is home or away. I prefer to get things out and tucked into the proper drawers and line ups. This applies doubly when I return home. I once had a suitcase sit unpacked for two weeks after a particularly bad flare. It was a nightmare.

So today I had unpacking work that required a bit of disassembling of multiple types of trip packs from gala makeup and silk gown to Greek island hopping swimsuits and even Utah desert nuclear facility visiting garments. It’s been a pretty busy couple of weeks.

I feel almost like I’ve found the bits and bobs of items that were misplaced inside tiny pockets or stowed away in unseen baggies. I am still searching for a few things but unpacking why the unpacking took so long is for another day.

Categories
Aesthetics Travel

Day 1976 and Ionian Island Ferries

Trains, planes and automobiles are nice but it’s not really summer till you have been on a boat. That’s right, I’m on a motherfucking boat. Well, I’m on ferry so the favored class of boat of certain Saturday Night Live cast mates.

I’m headed to a Greek island to relax with some friends. One of us came partially by train, one by ferry and car, and one by puddle jumper plane.

We’ve run the gamut of transportation across Europe to make it to a favored island known for its views, its caves, and of course its clear Ionian blue.

It’s been an adventure organized somewhat last minute as various itineraries made it clear we’d be within a few hundred miles of each other. So an Airbnb villa was procured at the last minute and the race was on to find our way to the island.

Grecian blue decks out the back/front of one of the many ferries leaving Port of Igoumenitsa

Igoumenitsa is the chief port of Thesprotia and Epirus, and one of the largest passenger ports of Greece, connecting northwestern Mainland Greece with the Ionian Islands and Italy via Wikipedia

I’m looking forward to a few leisurely days on the water, hopefully involving a few more boats but of the more manageable island hopping varietals. One can’t exactly jump off of a ferry into clear blue waters.

The chaos of loading a ferry fully of cars, mopeds, and tourist buses is an amusing sight. I’m not quite sure how the Greeks manage such an intensely maritime environment but it’s certainly a fun way to travel.

Small barking dogs, screaming children, sullen tweens, and irritated elders all being screamed at by deck hands is quite a way to start a relaxing time.

Categories
Aesthetics Biohacking

Day 1975 and Pool Blues

Having decided to take a proper break I am going all in on making sure my body and mind get the proper signs and signifiers to just let go.

My first activity after a long mess of travel was to sleep for an impossibly long term. Whoop approvingly noted that my 11 hours and fifteen minutes was the longest I’d slept all month.

Low stress, a green recovery and plenty of hours of deep and REM sleep

I know they say you should stick to a regular sleep schedule. I generally have a firm bedtime just past 9:30pm and will sleep nine hours if I can.

But between conferences with evening events, long drives late into the night and an eight hour time difference I was carrying a sleep deficit that needed to be remedied.

My next order of business was equally taxing. I booked a spa appointment for a pedicure and a waxing. Fresh toes and a clean bikini line seemed like just the trick before laying out on a pool lounger or on a beach.

Not that anyone will be taking too close a look at me but I like feeling as if I’ve cared for the little details. Cosmetics and beauty are more of a way of appreciating my own body than adhere to someone else’s preferences.

I usually wear a very basic nude shade on my toes. I almost never do my hands but I appreciate a but I felt like I needed something more Ionian in quality or perhaps one of David Hockney’s pools.

A bit of pool blue lacquer

Normally I wouldn’t go quite so exotic on a pedicure as I’m much more basic in my preferences but if I have a chance to stare out at wine dark sea over an aquamarine pool I may as well make the most of the experience.

Blue on blue on blue as an example
Categories
Emotional Work Travel

Day 1972 and Exposure Therapy

When the pandemic first kicked off I was relieved that travel ground to a standstill in my own life. I am a bad traveler. Which is a shame as I travel a lot.

If exposure therapy actually worked, you’d think I’d be better at managing the sympathetic response my nervous system kicks in at the prospect of leaving home.

Even well into being middle aged and well traveled, I find every aspect of travel from packing to driving to transcontinental flight to be anxiety inducing.

I should be better at this. I was was the founder of a company that specialized in travel cosmetics. I am an expert level packer as I am still on the road every few weeks. I even have a three bag cascade system complete with emergency medical supplies and plans for almost any issue you could encounter.

None of that makes it any easier. My body hates travel on a deep visceral level. I drove to the remote deserts of Utah to visit a nuclear reactor and then back to Montana in the space of three days.

Now I’m flying across the pole to another continent. I had 36 hours between the trips to unpack and repack. Logistically that would be a challenge for almost anyone. Not for me. I breeze through it.

But the fear and anxiety that my nervous system kicks in has never gone away. No amount of breath work or training or planning tamps it down. Even beta blockers and benzodiazepines barely scratch the surface of the fear. Maybe my my mother was right and being put on airplane at six weeks old was a bad idea

Categories
Aesthetics Travel

Day 1966 and America The Beautiful

I’ve written about my love of road trips and in particular the Eisenhower interstate highway a few times. If a destination is within a day’s drive in the west, it’s often worth piling into our trusty Subaru and heading for the hills.

Heading to the West Yellowstone entrance through beautiful Madison County Montana

With a portable mini-Starlink, you can work from even the most remote corners of the mountain west. Nothing is quite so satisfying as being in some of America’s most remote areas and having enough connectivity on call if it is needed.

Driving hundreds of miles in a day is often more enjoyable than attempting to fly and you can take in rolling hills and jagged mountain tops without the haste of the TSA rummaging in your bags and needing to show up hours ahead of time. The open road is freedom in the psyche of Americans.

I’ve done this in Europe as well where the infrastructure is not quite as well suited to this type of transit. There are more borders to manage and no consistent roadways.

Europeans generally seem to regard my fondness for road-trips as selfish folly though I rarely do them alone. I’m almost always with friends and my husband.

The freedom to traverse easily over some of the world’s most beautiful land is a privilege. to see rolling green hills and bright sky as spring overtakes the mountain west is just about the best way I can imagine spending a day.

Verdant Idaho
Categories
Community Culture Politics

Day 1926 and Who Gets To Be Albanian?

One of the more frustrating debates in current American life is who gets to be an American? This did not used to be such a hot topic. I grew up in America in which if you swore to uphold the Constitution figures, no less than Ronald Reagan welcomed you to our shining city on a hill.

Now your best chance of becoming an American is apparently crossing the border and waiting multiple years in legal purgatory. America is a country of ideals not blood right? Well, other countries are also having the debate in reverse. See today’s amusing story about Eric Adams

New York City’s former mayor Eric Adam’s became an Albanian citizen and it is exploding into a debate as to who gets to be an Albanian. He seems to like the place so why not. This is a fun sideshow.

But is he Shqiptar? Definitely not Arbëreshë right? Wikipedia is now in a fierce debate as to whether he should be considered an Albanian American. He holds citizenship but he’s not an ethnic Albanian. But he holds an Albanian passport? Much to debate.

Ethnic Albanians being massacred is whole tragedy that believe it or not America once went to war over. No I’m not kidding read your nineties history.

So when Eric Adams says stuff like “New York City is after all the Tirana of America” it’s a diaspora issue. Lots of Albanians left in that era and came to New York.

When Adams goes to Tirana it’s just confusing. But that is a thing he would say about any place he’d visit and vice versus. It’s a bit Adams does.

You might not know it but I’m a fan of Albania. My husband and I vacationed there last summer and I go regularly to the Balkans to visit with family. They are not blood family but besa. It’s a whole thing. I’m not Shqiptar. And I have no Illyrian blood. But I wouldn’t mind being an Albanian American for a publicity stunt.

Categories
Aesthetics Politics Travel

Day 1908 and Capital Perfection

I may have had one of the best days of my life yesterday. I want to get into a preposterous amount of detail as every single element of the day was peak Washington D.C.

I hung out with a long time friend with whom I have a shared passion (we are a special kind of economics nerd), we walked all over, toured several spaces your average citizen only sees on television. And if you are a nerd you really care where day Bretton Woods was signed.

The treaty room

It was my first time seeing some of those spaces and I felt very privileged. Nothing fires patriotism quite like seeing those who serve the nation.

I finished the day above the city watching the sunset on the Washington Monument while airplanes and helicopters ferried people of great importance than I in and out of the city.

It almost made me want to consider public service. But as my friend reminded me that it’s not all this glamorous. My Sunday was almost surely the very best the city has to offer.

Perfect weather, perfect company, perfectly cooked steak (from 6666 ranch so shoutout to my Taylor Sheridan homies), I even had on a perfect spring dress.

Thanks Jackie
Categories
Aesthetics Politics Travel

Day 1891 and So Much for Santorini or Status Hierarchies for Abundant Ages

If you watch me closely (which would be weird but I make it easy enough) you have surely noticed I spend much of my life traveling.

I’ve got no training in psychology but it sure seems like a certain personality type takes their childhood traumas and does exposure therapy till it becomes enjoyable.

I had intended for another trip to the general Mediterranean area in the spring to see family and work undisturbed by the American media timezone distractions. Now I am unsure if that will be feasible.

I am guessing that the sort of people who go to Sicily, Santorini and Cyprus to soak up the sun may find this Iranian conflict putting a wrench in their island hopping. Where will they go instead? Cartel wars bleed into the Caribbean and Bitcoin zillionaires setting up economic zones might make other things tricky. And oh the fuel costs will be ruinous.

War certainly makes me reconsider standard air bus style flying near any seas that connect to conflict areas but not too long ago I sat in a Turkish airport where “final boarding for Damascus” went over the loud speaker so maybe I’m making too much of it. Though I’m glad I enjoyed Istanbul over the winter as anything bordering Iran is now unnecessary risk.

For a world where speculative fiction bull case for artificial intelligence wiped off billions in market capitalization, we sure aren’t taking very seriously the kinetic effects of extreme uncertainty and change. Well, ironically maybe Pete Hegseth might be.

If we do make it through the Jackpot to the other side of the singularity, or just through this regional war situation, I would bet humans will find ourselves getting back to status hierarchies and power games.

If all our consumption needs are met, there will always be hierarchies. Wait your best friend summers in Block Island too? Or are those the Finnish slides from the Comme des Garçons show? Let me just call up “insert social scene’s patron billionaire” as everyone is headed to Big Sky for fresh powder this weekend.

It’s endlessly that sort of thing if you are inclined towards Bourdieu’s Distinction: a social critique of the judgment of taste. If class predicts taste then we mimic the taste we think we ought to have to be a certain kind of person. I came across a sweet hand illustrated essay on the matter recently.

If we can have anything we like, then taste becomes finer and finer grained. The rich know this already and the rest of us just might find out if we survive to an abundance era. And as I’d like to do that maybe I be reconsidering heading out to sea. Caribbean, Ionian, Bosphorus or otherwise.

Categories
Aesthetics Travel

Day 1878 and Checking Into Hotel California

Yesterday I was on about the “ride share” and gig economy intermediaries, but today it’s the “home share” economy. The short term rental world of permanent vacation properties amid a housing crisis for the rest of us.

Having had a streak of bad luck at hotels in California I am back to my old faithful of Airbnb. Except I seem to have accidentally checked myself into Hotel California. It’s such a lovely place.

But everyone else here is a Boomer but me. I’ve not seen any children or grandchildren. Everyone is over sixty. It’s a heaven ban paradise for those who can afford to live a permanent coastal lifestyle. And for those of us who can rent it for a few days on business.

The Airbnb is in a large complex that is above a stretch of beach one can hike down to for walks. Nearby amenities are yuppie in nature with bistros, coffee shops and Pilates studies. While it is easy driving to its most proximate big city, it doesn’t feel like anyone is going to an office in this suburb.

The Airbnb is run by a management company seemingly owned by an enterprising woman who got prime real estate when rates were lower. I deduced this by scraping all her listings and when they first went online.

I doubt she is interested in letting her investment properties take any damage as no one under 25 is allowed to book and she explicitly states that “it is not child proofed” so you are liable for any issues. Which would explain the demographics.

This is a place for adults, and more specifically adults who have the freedom to work where and when they like.

Or perhaps more accurately are not obliged to work any longer. What a seductive life to live. No wonder there are so many slim, fit, smiling Patagonia swaddled mature people.

“Hotel California” is, according to the Eagles’ Don Henley, a metaphorical song about the dark side of the American dream, particularly the excess and decadence of 1970s Los Angeles. Via Wikipedia

It’s definitely not a Margaritaville sort of place. With koi ponds and soft beiges and tasteful landscaping, it’s too costal grandmother in its aesthetics. But it is certainly decadent. Maybe the American dream of thirty year retirement is the decadence they warned us about in Hotel California. It’s not that they can’t check out. It’s that they won’t.

If you walk among the promenade that overlooks the ocean, you will notice many of the townhomes have signs in their windows advertising their management company. It is all second homes and beach cottages and handled by professionals.

If it weren’t a gate community with guards and a lot of security cameras I’d honestly be terrified to advertise that folks might not be home. But then again, what is anyone going to steal that these denizens can’t easily replace?

They sold out the future already. The thieves are inside the complex. It’s the rest of us looking in who should wonder why it is that no one can check out. It’s just such a lovely place.

Categories
Startups Travel

Day 1877 and Driving Miss Julie

When Uber first hit San Francisco, most of the hype in my circles was that it was finally possible to go out at night like New Yorkers always had. In Manhattan hailing a cab was simple. One was always going by.

San Francisco was neither so dense nor so populous, so maybe you got lucky; but mostly you called cab companies and waited outside of parties for for ages just to be sure someone wouldn’t steal your ride.

Talking to your taxi driver was more interesting in New York. It was the quintessential immigrants job where one worked their way up to a taxi medallion. Different neighborhoods had different demographics. You’d learn a lot about the American dream.

Now that ride sharing and piece work contracting applications are entrenched in our social fabric, the relationship between customer and provider is entirely different.

Using an interface that cuts down interaction is a big part of the appeal. Maybe no one wants to hear about hopes and dreams anymore.

Except that I do. I am one of those chatty Cathy types who wants to let the conversation roam. Uber and Lyft drivers (and whatever other delivery services they may also pick up) tend to be intermittent workers looking to patch up the cracks in the drivers budget or circumstances.

I’ve had a number of veterans (as in military not as in experienced drivers) on my recent trip. This is also a typical demographic in Montana where it’s either former military or college kids looking for extra money.

Times rally must be changing as I’ve not had a prototypical immigrant driver in America for some time now. It’s largely white native born men looking to make ends meet.

New York probably still has that old school style of driver but working class Americans of all stripes are now thoroughly integrated into application intermediary work flows.

Odd jobs used to be paid in cash and maybe some didn’t get reported. Now you’ve got 1099 income from every piece work source of income imaginable. No one is all that reasonable to anyone else.

The companies are just the layer between customer and provider. I’m sure the governments must love this (despite protests to the contrary) as it makes it very easy to collect the taxes.