Keepin' It Together

So, I'm in the terminal waiting for my plane to leave for Madrid. Already, a day has gone by in travel. Left from Albuquerque at 7:30 mountain time and arrived in Chicago around 11:00 central time. My lay-over here has been about five hours so far and there's another solid hour before the plane will actually be off the ground. Touch down in Spain should be tomorrow morning around 8:00 CET, rounding the trip to twenty-four hours. Then, I have a lay-over at the Madrid-Barajas Airport until midnight the following morning, a period of time that, once through customs, doesn't allow for finding a hotel room but is too long to stay cooped up in the airport. Maybe I'll be able to find something to do, although I do have to consider the surplus store that I'm carting with me: a total of 150 lbs of gear. Boarding the midnight flight, I'll head South, over the Sahara (too bad we'll be passing in the night because I bet the desert is a sight from 30,000 feet), Eastern Africa and Botswana to Johannesburg, South Africa. Spend the night at the Southern Sun Hotel in Kempton Park. Next morning, board the last flight and finally arrive in Maun, Botswana around 12:00 a.m.

"Whoa." said Keanu Reeves. 

That's four days of travel through three cities. It tends that the higher the ratio of time to cities during air travel, the more agonizing the journey. Let's call this the Snail Shell Principle (the larger the disparity between a snail and its shell, the more time it will likely spend at rest due to the strain of its  resting mechanism, thus the irony of the aforementioned ratio is repeated; for shouldn't a trip split between fewer cities over a larger span of time be more relaxed? No. It doesn't work that way.)

So, being faced with the prospect of the Snail Shell Principle, how will I handle this trip? Will I simply give in and curl up in the shell? No! That would make me a schmoe. Maybe if I was rich and had the money to travel all the time I would have the luxury of being a wimp but I'm not and...I'm not. I have to enjoy as much of this trip as I can. Have to be thrifty with my travel experiences. 

Thus, I must adapt and develop a survival strategy. Some people drink themselves stupid on the first leg of their trip and just  ignore the Snail Shell. Others talk...a lot...to anybody...about anything...everything...terribly awkward things...(Sorry guy on my last flight, I don't want to play Siggy Frued with you but, yes, I do think your unhealthy stream of sexual conquests stems from abandonment issues. Or, maybe you're just an asshole.)

Eh, these are temporary solutions. What happens when the drinker sobers up (want a Tylenol?) What happens when the talker runs out of people to talk to? Or gets spit on?

Answer: doom. 

A lasting solution is preferable. Here are five things that I have found to be incredibly helpful shell shucking strategies:

5. Ration sleep for yourself. 

If you have the discipline to commit to sleeping when the folks in your final destination are sleeping, good on you. Usually, I can fall asleep whenever I want to, especially when it's dark out. Never really had a problem with jet-lag. When I do think that I'm going to need to sleep during a period when I don't normally and I want to make sure that I can I use caffeine. Yes, the dreaded crash after guzzling a 20 oz. Redbull can be useful. Use the sugar high to keep yourself awake in the airport, then crash on the plane. Or vice versa, depending on what you find more comfortable. I know this tip won't be endorsed by any medical professionals but it works for me. 

4. Use music. 

The first time Bill Gates ever saw an iPod, it was shown to him by a reporter writing a story for Steve Jobs on the new invention. Gates remarked that it was brilliant and then excused himself to make a phone call. Maybe "Zune" was the sound that Gates heard in his head at that moment as he realized that his rival had just made one of the biggest technological innovations ever. I would argue that the iPod has changed global consciousness. With the ability to listen to any song that we want to from our entire music library anywhere that we want to has come a new era of conceptualization of the world through those songs. I'm sure anyone scaling Mt. Everest these days has an "I'm King of the World" playlist (personally, I would play the theme from Lion King when I reached the summit and whisper to myself, "One day, all this will be yours."). When you're feeling the drag of travel throw on some pump up music to keep on keepin' on. When you need to relax throw on some Miles Davis or Thelonius Monk and stay cool. 

3. Stay fresh. 

You may not be able to shower on a long haul or change into a new outfit but you can still carry a toothbrush and a 2 oz. tube of toothpaste, run some water through your hair and reapply deodorant. Any way to keep feeling new as you fall into the time-warp of crossing time zones will crush the Snail Shell. Especially the deodorant thing. ESPECIALLY THE DEODORANT THING. Planes are tight spaces and I get why some people don't wear deodorant but a. Aluminum zirconium trichlorohydrex is only in antiperspirants and b. there's a certain amount of decorum that should be observed in situations like this so that everyone can have a nice flight. Seriously, don't be that guy. 

2. Stay hydrated. 

Water lost from your body during periods of stress is life lost from your body. Guzzle that H2O. You may have to say "excuse me" to your neighbor on the plane more often than usual but it's worth it.

1. Wash your face and change your socks. 

I was going to put this under "stay fresh" but it needs its own category. I don't know why this works so well but it does. I have found that if I can do nothing else, as long as I wash my face and change my socks when I start to feel weighed down, I'm ready to go another round. Trust me, try this. 

Crack on adventurers.

New Mexico Trippin'

And, I'm off. Woke up this morning at five (late). American Eagle flight #3865- Albuquerque to Chicago O'Hare. As I stepped onto the airplane, the East mountains peaked over the top of the airport and the sun was cresting over the mountains, all sorbet and swirled cream. I'll miss the solar acrobatics of the New Mexico sky.

We're flying over Tucumcari now (posted post-flight). Mikey Fischer's Rocky Mountain Melts is dubbing in my headphones. Ever seen New Mexico from the air? This is a land of tucked away places. Hidden portions of water secreted in man-made reservoirs. Not visible from the highway that I drive every week but within five miles of the exits to the pueblos. It hasn't snowed in some time yet there are patches of snow rationing themselves on the sides of hills and embankments, hiding from the sun and milking the shadows of the sandstone. The land itself is tucked away within itself. Vast expanses of flat brown surrender suddenly to articulate outcroppings of limestone and granite.

Dramatic. That's the adjective that keeps coming to my head when I see anything of natural beauty in this place. Residents of NM, watch the sun set tonight and tell me I'm wrong. Looking out the window- well, nevermind. My point has proof. A sky lacking in everything but blue suddenly filled with clouds and hid my view. I start to compliment the Land of Enchantment and she hides herself. What a diva. Dramatic.

Missing and Dissing 2: Tether Snipping

Ever thought about throwing your cellphone or computer in a river? Or bringing some other piece of technology to a glorious end à la Office Space? Yes? No? Neither answer would be surprising and we all probably move back-and-forth on the "techno-loathing" spectrum (well, most of us- the folks at Anonymous probably don't believe that people could ever feel this way and I'm fine with that because somebody has to take a stand against something as ridiculous as Scientologyor S.O.P.A., P.I.P.A. and A.C.T.A.). I'm completely murcurial on this subject. I LOVE my new iPhone 4S. Since I bought it about a month ago, it has barely left my side. Yet, with all that connectivity to the rest of the world in the palm of your hand comes great...over stimulation. Sometimes I blink really hard, open my eyes, realize how much information is permeating my brain and give a Keanu Reeves, "whoa." At that point of saturation about the only thing to do is set the device down, pinch tobacco into my pipe and take a stroll through the arroyo.

Now we arrive at the crux of this Missing and Dissing post. This time, what I'm going to miss and what I don't mind leaving behind happen to be the same thing: the internet.

The internet is awesome. Arguably, it is one of the (if not the) most significant developments in human history since our ancestors said, "I'm getting kinda pruny. Wanna see what the big deal with dry land is?"

EVERYTHING is on the internet. I learned to play the piano, penny whistle and harmonica on the internet, I watch television solely on the internet. Thanks to Project Gutenburg(one of my favorite sites), I was able to cure a night of insomnia with a free ebook of the Iliad. The Khan Academy is attempting to provide world-class education for free. TED.com presents stimulating lectures from some of the greatest minds of this age...again, for free (notice that trend of not having to pay? Maybe the pirates are on to something...?). There's YouTube, Wikipedia, news sites, internet radio, movies, blogging, Instructables, guides to everything, opinions on everything, facts on everything! Not to mention all the memes and LULZ!

"Whoa." said Keanu Reeves.

Where was I? Oh, yeah, why I'm glad to get away from the internet. That can be reduced to the following: all of the above reasons. Everything that makes the internet freaking fantastic is also what makes it suck. It's the fact that you can jump from one terrific site to the next, to the next, to the next, until you look up and the clock that said "3:00 pm" five minutes ago now reads "6:00 pm." For example, if you were to read this blog entry and visit and read all of the sites that I link to in it, you would have visited sixteen websites (including this one) and read over 15,000 words. All started from one eight paragraph blog entry.

A motto that has always stuck with me is the age-old axiom: knowledge is power. Yet, there must be a line drawn when the knowledge starts to muddle together and the power that one gains from the knowledge accumulated is corrupted by the adage that quality is better than quantity. When that starts to happen, it's good to forget about anything that doesn't supply its own power and just take a walk. Whistling helps too.


(I have the feeling that some people reading this might need a little explanation of what memes and LULz are. Memes are actually a very interesting concept. An example of one is to the left. You can also read this. LULz are a little bit more difficult to grasp if you didn't grow up ROFL, so check this out. And, for your continuing education, there's always LOLcats.)

Etta James

On a non-traveling note: rest in peace Etta James.

It's impressive to be someone that people fall in love to.

Etta James sings Something's Got Ahold of Me. 1962.

Missing and Dissing: #1

Naturally, we all start to miss things while we're away. In an earlier post, I mentioned the mountains and the juniper trees. I'll definitely miss those. Sandia and the Sangre de Cristos become sort of constant friends when you live out here. Even more than them, I'm going to miss Saint Francis Cathedral. I'm not religious but it's a beautiful building. I like to walk past it whenever I'm in Santa Fe. Standing in front of a structure that represents something as immense as the Catholic church makes you realize where you are on the globe: an object taking up maybe two square feet of space on a planet whose surface area is about 510,072,000 square kilometers. I'm tiny. I like that. It means there's more room to roam. With the internet and global communication connecting a desktop to the furthest reaches of the world, everything starts to seem a little cramped and standing in front of St. Francis is my way of broadening the perspective.

(Although, the global population may not share this perspective: yikes!)

Now, the fun part. What won't I miss? Come on, there's a hundred reasons to travel. Not the least among them being the desire to "get away from it all." So, what is "it all?" There's probably an infinite number of things. I'll start with just one:

ADVERTISING

Ads are everywhere. I'm looking around my house right now and the only place I don't see advertising is on my own body and the cats. There are little symbols on everything we buy that are designed to be memorable so that when we see them in stores we know exactly what brand is represented by them. Repetition makes humans trust more (science!). Marketing has become a cacophony that is impossible to ignore. Especially on the internet. Three-and-a-half months in the bush with no connectivity is going to be awesome!

Exhibit A:



It's a little blurry but it says "Ozzy has a secret fantasy. Click here for a chance to win his fantasy." Uh...Ozzy Osborne has a secret fantasy and someone thinks I am even curious as to what it is? No thank you. I mean, despite his fall from rock grace, I love old school Ozzy and I'm stoked for the return of Black Sabath (dubious but stoked). However, the prospect of winning Ozzy Osborne's fantasy is only a little less terrifying than the prospect of winning tickets to a John Wayne Gacy gallery opening hosted by the "artist."

Oh, well. Advertising isn't going anywhere. If only they could be a little more entertaining, like this Captain Morgan spot my friend Garner showed me: Captain Morgan's 'To Life, Love & Loot.'

"Dr. Livingstone, I presume?"

"Dr. Livingstone, I presume?" asked Henry Morton Stanley.

"Yes, and I feel thankful that I am here to welcome you." replied Dr. Livingstone.

With those trite words, Mr. Stanley became the first European to greet David Livingstone in six years. Though, he seemed to be a little dodgy in the eyes, when Stanley found him on the shores of lake Tanganyika. Turns out her majesties famous explorer had become very ill and a little crazy. Stanley urged Livingstone to come with him but the doctor was determined to finish his mission in Africa. Despite his inglorious later years, David Livingstone was an important Victorian figure who, for the better or the worse, helped shape Africa's future.

I've been looking at some of my books on the guy and I realized there are a couple of things that any traveler can take away from his experiences. I have summarized and cheapened them below for your convenience.


Three Things David Livingstone Can Teach the Modern Explorer:

1. Travel light.

Often, the person toting the triad of upright rollers with their entire wardrobe and "essential shower kit" on a trip is not the most prepared. Also, it's usually not the scruffy dude with the least amount, either ("I'm sorry you didn't bring enough deodorant but that's what we call a 'non-sharable' item."). As with most circumstances, there's a happy medium. Pack only what is necessary (and, no, your Gameboy is not necessary unless you work for a game developer and you're headed to a conference). True essentials. Only what the journey calls for.

My problem is usually books. "What if I need to look this up? Or reference this other tome?" I usually need someone to talk me down and show me reason, "Eoghan, do you really think that you'll use this un-abriged Webster's dictionary on this weekend's camping trip? And, I know you've been wanting to finish it for a while, but...Moby Dick? Really? For the weekend?" Once it's pointed out to me, I feel foolish but lighter. We all have our traveling guilty pleasures- books, hair care products, video games, DVDs- and we all have a friend that is willing to tell us how stupid we'll feel when we get tired of carrying it all.

Livingstone was known for traveling light and it came in handy. Most other Europeans at the time traveled to Africa with huge posses of slaves and servants armed to the teeth. Not surprisingly, the locals assumed that they were either being invaded or feared that the approaching whites were slave traders. Doesn't start things off on the right foot. Which brings us to...

2. Don't Piss Off the Locals

Duh? Right? Wrong. There's a reason that American's are not well thought of in certain places around the world (other than the Middle East) and we can't blame it all on the Bush years. A couple of words of wisdom: yelling doesn't increase another person's comprehension of English, snapping at waiters and using "garson" as a universal term for serving staff is borderline colonial and for heaven's sake don't giggle at every stone carving of a penis you see.

Don't get me wrong, America isn't the only nation being held back a grade for cultural insensitivity. I stayed at a jungle lodge in Peru once where the majority of the lodgers were wealthy British folks. One night I heard Juan, the Peruvian bartender, called "boy" so many times that I had to retire early.

One huge step toward ingraciating oneself to the citizens of a country is to learn a toast and cheers to their health (again, other than the Middle East). I haven't been able to find a specific toast to health in Tswana but I did find "Masego ke ao" which means "Good luck!" That should suffice until I learn a good one.

A friend of mine met a group of Russians one night at a bar in New Zealand. He doesn't speak Russian but he knew, "Na zdorovje!" True, if you do a little research, it turns out that this is not really a drinking cheer but an answer to "spasibo" (thank you). It didn't matter, though, he hung out with them all night and had a great time. He had no idea what they were saying but they smiled and laughed and that's universal.

Livingstone apparently had a knack for winning over the chiefs of villages during his travels. He became so beloved in the village where he died that the residents refused to release his body to the British government. When they finally did return it, his heart was cut out and there was a note that read, "You can have his body, but his heart belongs in Africa!"

3. Don't let the stooge make you the stooge.

Unless you're traveling as a pair (occasional stooging but hopefully you made a good choice in travel companion) or by yourself (if you're traveling by yourself and there's a stooge, you need a moment next to a tulip field or something), there is bound to be a stooge at some point. The stooge can switch people and it can be a conglomerate of personalities riled up over a circumstance and each other. In big groups, it doesn't seem to shift. Pretty early on the stooge shows their face and then it's up to you not to snap.

Someone will have a problem with every single food item put before them. Someone can never stop trying to tell the rest of the group what to do. Someone thinks their Carlos Mencia impression is spot on even though its only similarity with the source material is that it's really, really bad.

The stooge has a way of pulling others into their world. Suddenly, because the stooge is annoying you, you start to become annoying and add to the stooge. Don't let the stooge get you down! Don't let someone make you responsible for their good time. If it comes down to it, you can always just walk off singing Safety Dance.

Okay, so anyone who knows a little bit about Livingstone, knows that this one is a little bit of a stretch. For one thing, if there was a stooge in some of Livingstone's expeditions, it was him. On the Zambezi expedition, John Kirk, Livingstone's physician, wrote, "I can come to no other conclusion than that Dr. Livingstone is out of his mind and a most unsafe leader." But if you look at it from the explorer's point of view, he had a job that he was going to do despite any objections. Maybe back then, they called the stooge a Livingstone.

10 Days

So, when I said about two weeks, the "about" was appropriate. I leave in ten days. That's not a lot of time. Now the anxiety sets in. With any trip there is a necessary level of apprehension as to one's readiness for the journey. You know, the "I forgot something, I know I did. I have to have" feeling. Usually, it works out. Most of the time we didn't forget anything, we're just stressing. Sometimes, we do forget something but do we notice? Most of the time, no! You're too busy enjoying the trip.

As easy as it is to forget your troubles once the wheels of the plane have retracted, the car has reached fourth gear, or the boat has pulled away from the dock (maybe ignore that last one in light of recent events), while you're still home, unless you're the Clock King from Batman you're going to have anxiety.

I've been dealing with this through the extensive use of lists. To do lists, to buy lists, gear lists, packing lists, lists of the lists so that I don't lose count or recreate a list. I'm a pen-and-paper kind of guy. I always carry a notebook or a pocketbook on me so that I easily jot down notes or lists. Yet, lately, I've been straying into the ever cozy world of the iPhone. Everything is in one place, everything is maybe two strokes away. And I do mean everything.

One program, in particular, that helped me with the packing lists was an app. called Packing Pro. I know Livingstone is probably rolling in his grave right now and don't get me wrong, I'm going to continue to carry my pocketbooks, but the future is here and I don't begrudge anyone who wants to shake its hand.

A Fortnight

In about two weeks, I leave for Botswana. Everyone I know who's been there tells me it's fantastic. The internet seems to second that opinion. A PhD student in the museum I work in used to live there. She calls it paradise on Earth. That's a high accolade but right now, as I write this in Cerrillos, NM, where the weather has recently scuttled above freezing, any sub-Saharan country seems like paradise on Earth. Except for maybe the Sudan...or Somalia. Don't get me wrong, I love the snow on the mountains and the crisp winter air filtered through frosty juniper trees. I was born in Miami, though, and the prospect of warmer climes makes me hum "Boat Drinks" by Jimmy Buffet. Ironically, though, Botswana is land-locked.



That doesn't mean there's no water. We'll be catching the tail end of the rainy season on the Okavango. I'm sure the erratic showers will wear on us after a while, but those first few storms will be awesome! And, when the fun of being in a storm after so long in the desert disappears, there will still be the view. The rains are highly regional. Often it will be raining in one area but completely dry only ten kilometers away. I think I'll watch the animals graze in the delta in front of a backdrop of pouring storm clouds doing the same.