Musings – On Returning to the USA

As John Denver would say, “Gee it’s good to be back home again”, if only we had the farm that he sings of in the next sentence we would be in absolute heaven.  But with no farm and, as of this writing, no Salt & Pepper, we find ourselves at the Comfort Suites on Amelia Island, Florida awaiting US Custom’s release of our beloved rolling home.

The flight back came off without any trouble despite the stress and panic clearly reflected in both Rosco’s and my eyes.  If you ever get the opportunity to fly Air France La Premier out of Charles de Gaulle, by all means take it.  The exceptional service starts upon your arrival at the terminal:  Before you even check in, they have a lounge waiting for you where they sit you (and your dogs) down in plush leather chairs (ok, The Noses remained on the carpet) while they arrange your boarding passes and check in your luggage.  If you happen to have Tax Free items that need to clear customs, they walk you through the back doors and into a private Customs office where your documents are all stamped post-haste.  This is the way to travel!

The flight seemed to take forever as I was worried about Rosco, but eventually we landed in Atlanta and they delivered the Alive (!) But Shell-Shocked Noses to us near the baggage carousel.  Atlanta is a wonderful place in which to arrive from an international flight:  The customs and immigration lines are almost non-existent (unlike, LA, San Francisco or NY) and the southern hospitality simply engulfs you as you disembark.  Indeed, our luggage porter knew just where to take the dogs for agricultural clearance and then led us directly outside to the pet area.

As the old New Austerity hadn't caught back up with us yet, we stayed two nights at the Westin in Buckhead getting a quick but deep dive back into the commercial aspects of living in America.  With streets full of Porsches and sidewalks full of people with large shopping bags we knew we were home.  Being all shopped out from Paris, we saved our money for Manhattans and wine in the lobby bar where The Noses were a huge hit and the wine was over $15 a glass.  Au revoir vin du maison at $2 a glass! 

One five hour drive later we find ourselves on the aforementioned Amelia Island in the delightful small coastal town of Fernandino Beach, just 30 minutes from the docks where Salt & Pepper await Customs clearance.  With any luck they will clear within a day or two, then it’s a quick jaunt into Camping World for the installation of new LP cylinders (had to remove them for the shipment home) before heading to Colorado.

And more John Denver:  All together now, “Colorado Rocky Mountain hiii-yiiii.”

-K

PS:  As expected, The Noses weren't even examined upon our arrival into Atlanta.  The officer looked at their Pet Passports, specifically noting the rabies vaccination, and that was the extent of it.  Likewise, we slipped right on through Passport control in France despite our Schengen violation.  

Musings – On Shipping S&P and The Noses Home

If I have blogged this once, I have blogged it a million times:  Experiences get so much easier the second time around.   Below is a table of decision points and or actions we had to take in order to transport Salt & Pepper and The Noses to Europe and back:  (For more details on the US to UK portion, please see the US2UK label in the "Postings by Labels" section of the blog.)

Issue	To Europe Decision	From Europe Decision
With whom do we ship Salt & Pepper?	SP spent weeks corresponding with multiple shipping agents and analyzing their answers to 10 standard questions before deciding on Hill Shipping from the UK.	One email to Hill Shipping asking for our European port options.
What can travel inside Salt & Pepper?	This was one of SP’s 10 standard questions and the answers were all over the map from “what would normally be in a camper” to “nothing that isn’t screwed in.”  We left nothing in either vehicle; spending over a thousand dollars on extra baggage charges (ten large, check bags) and storage upon our arrival in London Heathrow.	Everything remained inside except for clothes and toiletries.
Dropping Salt & Pepper at the docks for shipment.	We arrived at the appointed time in Galveston, Texas and were escorted to the parking spot.  We spent about 30 minutes with S&P taking our last looks before the agent drove us, and our aching hearts, off the dock.	We arrived, unannounced, a day ahead of (our own) schedule in Zeebrugge, Belgium.  The clerk at the desk allowed us to drive onto the dock and leave S&P despite not having all the required paperwork with us (it was still pending from Hill Shipping.)  We walked off the dock about five minutes later.  Only looking back once.
The Noses	My posting for exporting The Noses from the US can be found here.  A quick refresher:  Four visits to two different vets, one visit to the APHIS office in Austin, Texas = many, many days, and lots and lots of money spent on the endeavor.  Top it off with a bill for over $1,700 PER NOSE to fly them on British Airways.	One visit to a vet located two blocks from the Paris flat.  $150 per Nose to fly them on our Air France flight home.

It seems everything is easier:  Part of it is just doing business in Europe where there is not such a strict set of rules governing everything (or people just feel more free to work around them to serve a higher purpose); prior experience, as mentioned above, helps in every situation; and, I am hoping, a new attitude on our part has taken hold.  Life is too short to sweat the small stuff—or even the big stuff over which you have no control.

-K

Musings – On Our One Year Anniversary & US Return

What is it like to live in 19’ with the Love of Your Life and two terriers for a year?  Not as hard as you would imagine, certainly not as hard as I imagined.  The key for me was to surround myself with only items that bring me joy.

What I thought was going to be the biggest sacrifice, a severely limited wardrobe, turned out to be my greatest discovery:  When I open the clothes cupboard (of which there is only one, and it is small, and it is shared) I know that whatever I pull out I will love.  This is a huge change from my walk-in closet back in Laguna where, stocked with every piece of clothing or shoe that even momentarily caught my eye, I would stand for an eternity each morning thinking, “I should wear that, or I should wear this” only to put back on my personally cut ¾ length Levi’s.  Looking back, I now see the wasted time and money involved in what should just be a quick morning activity wielded solely as a pediment to more distinguished accomplishments.  I am just saying, Einstein and Coco stuck to plain black.

Thanks to modern technology and, especially here in Europe, almost constantly available WIFI, I can bring along all the people who bring me joy.  I am not a huge fan of Facebook, but it is difficult to imagine a year away and staying connected to my friends and family without it.  Sometimes it is the seemingly trivial postings that keep the connection most alive.

Of course two of my very favorite possessions are hairy, playful and love to roll around on the bed.  For this I am thankful that SP pushed us to bring along a small vacuum.  Speaking of SP and possessions, when loading up we had many arguments about what should be included, tools, pots, fasteners (“a vacuum?  Are you crazy?!”), I am afraid that SP’s list was much (much, much) longer than mine.  I have to admit, though, that his possessions have come in handy a number of times and undoubtedly have made this year a much smoother ride.

As for Don’t Dare Label Him A Possession SP, not only does he make me laugh in the most trying of times (of which there have been many) he may forever be the only person who understands how difficult Living the Dream can be.

Is it fitting to be lingering on thoughts of returning to the US while writing this?  We are planning on a mid-December return, earlier than originally anticipated.  Part of this is home-sickness (Facebook does not provide the ability to hold my new nephew), part is wanting to garden on land that we can call our own, but most of it is us having grown weary of the almost constant chore of dealing with what needs to come into and out of your body.  Not to mention our new understanding of Schengen (the treaty not the town.) 

As for me, some joyful thoughts on my first days back in the US:

-        The first thing I eat will be a toasted onion bagel dripping with butter;

-        The first thing I drink will be a Manhattan;

-        The first thing I buy will be a NY Times Sunday Edition or, if it is not Sunday, a Wall Street Journal.

With any luck all three items will happen on the same day.

-K

Musings – On the Transformational Properties of Camping

The Before:

It is dangerous to ponder the transformational effects of camping in Europe in the middle of August:  With temperatures above 30/90 and neighbors so close that, if you both just leaned a little out your front door you could shake hands, the danger is that it might become a gripe-fest.  But I have found living this way has made me more tolerant, the best indication of this metamorphous can be found in how many times a day I say, “Really, who cares?”

Watching the European men walk to the bathroom in less than what we would call underwear, I now simply say, “Really, who cares?” 

Wondering if I should change out of my sleeping shorts before heading there myself, I also say, “Really, who cares?”

There is no doubt that living like this has changed my opinion of where the lines of  social etiquette should be drawn:  At first I am aggravated at having to listen to some Italian musical blaring out of my neighbor’s van—until I can no longer hear their bodily functions at which point aggravation quickly turns to appreciation.  Perhaps there should be a Maslow’s Pyramid of Social Etiquette; the bottom layer, “The need to insulate your neighbors from your bodily functions.”

Last month, I commenced to bleach my hair while in a campground.  I considered how ridiculous I would look walking to the showers with a bag on my head but that didn’t stop me.  On the way over, I pictured a lady lying comfortably on her deathbed saying, “I had a perfect life—except for that time  I saw a woman walk to the shower with a bag on her head.”

I mean, really, who cares?

-K

Pepper's Lament by Deborah Nittel

Aug 14, 2012 - My Owners have had me back Her into yet another campsite in yet another country.  It wouldn't be so bad if she wasn't so contrary - when I turn left, she turns right.  I've learned to just go with it as I know it's an argument I can't win.  I expect that since we are STILL in a place where I can't read the signs, pretty soon every French, Italian and Swiss in the area will be oogling and awing over  HER.  Sure... she's  shiny, aero-dynamic and maybe even "cute", but what am I.....scrap metal?  Shouldn't I get some kudos for hauling her lazy *** around  two continents?

Oh, I tried to get My Owners' attention by shaking them up when they accelerated.  I tried to tell them that She's just too much trailer for me by wearing out my break pads - I even blew a tire.  We just ended up in yet another Porsche dealership in yet another country - me getting probed and prodded while They sipped lattes.  I thought the life of a Porsche Cayenne would be better than this...more civilized.  Soccer moms driving their kids a few blocks to practice a couple times a week,  perhaps a drive along the Oregon coast...and most CERTAINLY, a parking garage. I must have been one mean driving machine in my past life to inherit these two "adventurers".

 

Life was so much easier before I got hitched to Her....sure there was the odd logging road in Canada, but nothing I couldn't handle...oh but wait a minute, I blew a tire there as well.  Don't They know that I'd feel much more secure if I had my spare?  Every SUV needs its spare.. but  apparently They care more about Music than my well being. 

 

Oh well, at least She's unhitched from me for a few days and I'll get Them all to myself if we go into a nearby village.  But even that stresses me out - my mirrors, my mirrors!   In the meantime I'll dream about being in the dark hull of USA bound-ship.

 

...and oh...did I tell you my biggest peeve?

She gets top billing on the blog.

 

----------Thanks to my talented Aunt for our first guest piece!

Musings – On Being the Odd Ones Out

It is only for the purposes of a good analogy that I would admit to reading People Magazine (at least I think it was People, maybe it was Us Magazine); particularly the section where they have a picture of a celebrity doing something innocuous (like buying groceries) and the caption reads, “They are just like us . . . they buy groceries!”

This is how I often feel as, curious, kind-hearted Europeans gaze in wonder first at Salt ( a rarely seen Airstream in Europe) then at our license plates, usually emitting an, “Ahhh Californeee!” response.  Then they watch us for signs of normalcy for which they have been richly rewarded:

1)      They hang their clothes on the line just like us!

2)      They walk their dogs just like us!

3)      They have cocktails just like us! And, when we are getting ready for bed and forgot to close the curtains;

4)      They brush their teeth just like us!

In all seriousness, one of the truly unexpected pleasures of the Aventura has been meeting people from around the world, and I doubt they’d approach us if it weren’t for Salt. 

Or maybe it’s The Noses.  Either way I am grateful.

-K

Musings on Coming Home

(No, that's not Portugal - that is Salt in our very first pitch of the Aventura just outside of Laguna Beach, CA, August 31, 2011.)

We wondered when this day would come; the day when the pain of shipping everything over pales in comparison to the prospective joy of being home.  

Although we are still thinking the return day is five or six months away, we have stopped telling people that we will be doing this for “a year or two, we have no plans” and instead have begun talking to each other about what our future looks like back in the USA. 

I am not sure when it started, I did have that bout of homesickness upon arrival in Portugal, but I thought I had put it to rest.  We could blame it on our British neighbors here at Touriscampo:  They have been gone from England for eight months (“well, we fly home every six weeks or so to visit”—so unfair!) and are returning home within thirty days.  Two sets of them.  And it sounds so easy to just hop on a ferry, drive a few miles and be done. The enormity of shipping everything back makes me want to get started on it right now.  (Once an “A” type, always an “A” type.)  Although I am quite sure it will be much easier the second time around.

There is more to it than homesickness.  Undoubtedly we are fortunate to be able to take this time to discover new countries in a way you just don’t get to experience when you are only here for a week or two.  But the elongated time away has also provided a different perspective on home:  We now see the importance of living in a community where you feel safe, valued and integral.  I am not sure we have found that community yet; that will be part of our journey when we reach the US once again, and the start of that process is driving a lot of our desire to return.  

Truth be told, we have discovered that this life, as interesting as it can be, is often quite one-dimensional.  There is not enough intellectual stimulation (I can only practice my French so often) nor is there enough competitive stimulation.  (Alas, SP refuses to play chess with me—something I think would solve two issues at once!)  I miss club tennis and, (here it comes) the thrill of demo’ing software (not to mention the paycheck.)  We both miss having interests outside of each other, The Noses, and the worry of something breaking down.

So now we have something to discuss when we are bored with our in-between stops, as we are experiencing right now.  Still in Luz, Portugal, waiting for the doctor’s clearance to head to Spain for some hiking in the Sierra Nevada Mountains. 

The new time constraint, however arbitrary, is forcing us to determine where we want to focus our attention.  We will be spending time in Spain, France, Switzerland, Italy, and Slovenia (because so many people have recommended it) and hopefully Austria, Montenegro and Croatia before heading home.  But that is quite a list and quite a bit of driving in five to six months.  We used to think every country in Europe was so close together, but when your gaze lands first on the petrol prices, the countries appear much farther apart.

As to where to land on US soil?  That is indeed the million dollar question.  Given the time of year (winter) and our past experience in the snow, it will likely be on one of the sunnier sections of the country. 

-K

Musings – On When *#$! Happens on the Road - Apr. 22, 2012

Repair pictures here!

As you know by now we encountered some issues on our drive south from Jumieges, France landing a crippled Pepper and a one-windowless Salt in Tours.  Once the breakdown began, I realized how quickly two smart people can go from making good decisions under reasonable stress to making poor ones under extreme stress.  It got me thinking that maybe that’s why some of life’s bad experiences just get worse and worse; compounding bad experiences with bad decisions, ultimately creating more bad experiences. 

When we initially felt the Pepper shaking (much differently from the other day’s wheel balance issue; this shake only came with acceleration), we pulled off the A10 to check it out.  That’s when we discovered the missing window.  Thinking (ok, hoping) that the missing window might have been causing the shake, we taped it up and set back toward the A10.  Is that smart?  Was that even logical?  Not really.  That, my friends, is what Wishful Thinking looks like in France.

Pepper restarted shaking almost immediately upon acceleration so we turned around and headed to the first motel that we had passed--the dropping of Salt becoming our #1 priority as we feared that Pepper might stop moving altogether.  I jumped out to check us in and just didn’t like the feel of the place:  The door was locked but included a sign directing you to register yourself at a machine.  I made an executive decision that we would take a deep breath (or six) and sit in the parking lot until we found a more decent place to stay.  Was that smart?  Was that logical?  Quite.   Could that have been the turning point; the point at which I stopped the cycle of reacting badly to a bad experience?

A few minutes later we located the Mercure Hotel, Tours Nord and slowly made our way over.   My stress level immediately dropped about 10 points upon entering the bright, crisp lobby and being greeted by a very helpful (and, thankfully, bilingual) clerk.   (If you can believe it, my French becomes even worse under stress.) I explained our issues (broken-down car, towing a trailer, two dogs) and she assured me that we could stay for a few days, parking Salt in their bus parking area.  In less than three minutes I had a key and was back out the door.

Stopping what could have been a very bad decision (the Quick Palace Motel--see what I mean?) turned out to be pivotal in our ability to cope with our issues.   I can’t say enough for the staff at the Mercure; everyone at the desk was incredibly helpful (one lady even called Porsche to check up on Pepper, although I don’t think she used his proper name) and the fast internet was our lifeline to finding hardware stores for Salt's repair. 

Our room was perfect but Salt’s was even better:  The bus parking area provided a great spot for the construction of Salt’s temporary Plexiglass window.  A new window will catch up with us in Portugal, thanks to Airstream UK, but in the meantime Salt looks great and is back to being waterproof, what more could you ask for?

-K

Musings – On Leaving England – Apr. 2012

More pictures here!

It turns out I have developed a Seattle-like relationship with England:  When the weather is nice, you think you are in heaven, but when it is bad you are ready to move anywhere.  And so we find ourselves ready to leave England for . . . anywhere. 

Those beautiful sunny days in March, which many locals told us was as good as it gets all summer, turned into rainy and cold days in April.   In the U.K., the weather and the geography change on a dime and both attributes contributed to our enjoyment of this incredibly varied land.  Topping off our enjoyment was the arrival of two dear friends, and the making of others, during our last week.

What stood out to me the most about the English people (and I do intend to omit the Scottish here) is their love of caravanning.   As I noted before, we began receiving The Caravan Club Magazine at least a year ahead of our California departure.  The magazine consistently warns you to make reservations for the parks, particularly when travelling on a bank holiday weekend.   I suggest they add a note about the forecast:   If it is sunny, make sure you have reservations too.  Just like long time Seattle- or Vancouver-ites, when the sun shines the English go a little crazy. 

In looking over my postings, I realize I left out at least two places that, if you find yourself near, you should stop by:  The Haunch of Venison and The Dock O’ The Bay.

We ran (literally—during a rain storm in Salisbury) into the Haunch of Venison with our dear visiting friends in search of a warm spot for a refreshing beer.  We were rewarded with both as well as a hearty welcome from a local gentleman (dressed better than anyone around) who passed along a flyer on the history of the Haunch.  A charming man, when we were leaving he kissed me on both cheeks to which I responded, “How very European”, and he replied, “I am better than European, I am French.”

No one kissed me at the Dock O’ The Bay in Southampton, but I would have kissed the chef had he or she shown themselves.  A delightful little restaurant that sits neither on a dock nor near a bay, but serves some of the best food we have enjoyed in a long time.  Like the Haunch, it is clearly a local favorite.

And finally to new friends; we found ourselves a little quiet upon leaving Gold RV for the last time having picked up our Sani-con Macerator (I really just love to write those words) on our way out of the country.   We have often been asked, when being offered a grocery club card or to put a deposit down on a rental car, if we didn’t know someone in the UK that might benefit from the membership (grocery) or be of help in an emergency (car.)  I don’t think Gold RV would benefit from a grocery membership but I know we will continue to benefit from having met them and I certainly wouldn’t hesitate to contact them in an emergency--Sani-con or otherwise.

-K

Musings – On the Pleasant Tones of a Foreign Accent; Even in Children

Why does overhearing usually intolerable conversations become quite endearing when spoken in a foreign accent?  There must be a word for this, maybe SP will think one up before long.   (Or please, comment with some suggestions—I imagine I will need to use it quite often from now on.)  For me, having to listen to conversations between small children and their mothers is tied for first in the Just Shoot Me Now category with having to listen to one side of a cell-phone conversation that starts with, “OK, now we are through security.”  However, the conversation I overheard last night, spoken with tiny voices in their high-class English accents, had me laughing out loud.

I had gone to the shower block (shower room) to get ready for our night at the local pub when I overheard the following conversation between a mother and her two daughters.  It was clear that before coming in the mother had spent some time talking to the girls about what to expect and the steps to take in order to accomplish their task.  The girls were young (3 and 5 maybe) and clearly excited about their new adventure.  The mother set the older one up in her own cubicle before starting with the younger one in a cubicle next door.  

The water starts and the elder daughter speaks;

“Mummy, I believe I have done something wrong.”

“What is it Lovey?”

“I have entered the shower with my shoes on.”

(A beat of silence.)

“Which shoes are they Lovey?”

“My runners.”

(Another beat of silence.) And the daughter continues, “Will they dry, Mummy?”

“Not as long as you are standing in the shower Lovey.”

Ahh, these unflappable English!

-K

US2UK - The Day Itself - Feb. 27, 2012

Today I am living the definition of surreal; I just can’t believe this is all really happening. 

I woke early this morning and figured I might as well start getting adjusted to the time change so I got up at 6:00 and took the dogs out for their morning constitutional.   I returned via the Club Floor of the Sheraton for some coffee and a bagel then joined Alan back in the room.  Around 8:00 I took The Noses out for a nice long walk.  We walked along JFK Boulevard to the Houston International Airport where they have at least a mile of nice, flat, grass on which to ramble.  I thought the noise of the airplanes and trucks would be a good experience for the dogs, so we took our time and got a nice work-out in.

Back to the room, Alan and I fit in an hour of yoga before hitting the showers and packing up.  We had to have the dogs to British Air World Cargo by 12:30 for our 4:30 flight.  I was thankful that the drop location was not the same as the [human] traveler’s check-in.  It was a separate building at the other side of the airport and, although busy in its own right, not nearly as frantic as an international airport terminal full of humans.  (Having spent many hours in airports in my previous life, I can safely say that humans are not at their best when flying.)

The dog check-in was lengthy:  While Alan assembled the crates, I filled out the final paperwork, had the health certificates checked, and paid the bill (over $2,700 for the two dogs!)  Once the crates were completed, they were taken, empty, to be x-ray’d.  Then the dogs were measured and had their pictures taken in front of the crates to prove that they are the correct size.  You know The Noses, they were not shy about having their picture taken—particularly Rosco who was thrilled to do anything that involved not getting into the crate.   After weighing the dogs we gave them a cheery “Crate!” command and they made us proud by jumping right in.  Well, Rosco made one attempt to lunge out the office door, but after that he jumped right in.

I didn’t even cry.

Alan dropped me at the British Airways check-in area with our ten (yes, 10!) giant suitcases and while he was unloading them from Snowball, I hailed a porter.  Sometimes it is just worth it to spend the extra money and this was definitely one of those times.  The porter and I went to check in while Alan returned Snowball to Hertz.    

The seemingly endless loading of bags at the check-in counter elicited a, “Just how many bags do you have?” question from the clerk.  “Eight to check in, two to carry on”, I replied to which he countered,  “You are only allowed to check six bags.”  I admitted to knowing the facts but told him we did the best we could and we will just have to pay for the extra ones.  $280 for our two additional bags—I was spending money like crazy and hadn’t even made it to Paris yet.

After the joys of U.S. security, we walked into the British Airways lounge where we were greeted with a, “Mr. and Mrs. Bryant, I am so sorry”, my heart stopped; was the flight cancelled?  Good lord!  The health certificates were only good until today! Panic! But the clerk continued, “This is the coach lounge, the first class lounge is just out the door and down to the left.”  I’m not even sure this last part registered with me I was still in such a panic, I just followed Alan out the door.

A few yards down the hallway we entered the first class lounge and were immediately greeted with, “You must be the Bryants, welcome.”  Good lord, I had forgotten just how wonderful good service is.  We dropped our bags and headed directly to the Veuve, hot soup, and shortbread cookies.

It is now 3:30 p.m. in Houston, in about 25 minutes we’ll be boarding the plane and changing into our First pajamas while the Veuve is poured again. 

Cheers!

-K

Musings – On Crate Training the Noses for the Flight

Nothing but Nose pictures here.

For those of you who know Rosco, you probably know he picked up a deep aversion to crates and airplanes during the six months that Alaska Airlines made me put him in cargo rather than under my seat.  (If you know this story, then you also know that I fought and won the right to have him under my seat for good . . . but alas, that was only for Alaska.)  Couple Rosco’s aversion with the fact that when River was a puppy, I put her in a crate and she howled and threw herself against the wall until it fell over, you can imagine my excitement over crate training them for the US2UK flight.

We bought the crates a little late, only ten days or so before our departure which didn’t help as I’m sure The Noses could sense my desperation.  But they were curious right from the start and even Rosco was quick to jump in for a cookie—as long as the door was not attached.    

The first night went very well, with both dogs sleeping in their door-less crates; River didn’t even try to bully Rosco out of one but stayed in her first choice all night.  The second night, however, I tried to get fancy and shut the doors.  River was unimpressed and went right to sleep.  Rosco, on the other hand, was deeply impressed and not in a good way.  He immediately began his panting routine (remember his cold weather panting?  It’s baaaaa-aaack!)  but I persevered and he eventually fell asleep.  For an hour.  Then the panting started again.  Then another hour of sleep.  Then more panting.  So around 3:00 a.m., I finally got up and let him out.  Undoubtedly one of Rosco's more frustrating times trying to train a human, but he persevered.  From that night on, he opted to sleep under our bed rather than get anywhere near the crate. 

With the travel day just around the corner, I was starting some panting of my own at the thought of Rosco not being able to last through the flight.  I decided to bring the crates out to the living room and put the dogs inside while Alan and I worked out.  This way Rosco’s panting wouldn’t keep me awake and maybe he would get over it.  True to form, he did start panting almost immediately but then, lo and behold!  He curled up and went to sleep.   River, always up for a good nap, went to sleep immediately. 

I decided to stop while ahead.  Our final two nights are at the Sheraton near the Houston International Airport, where Rosco is luxuriating on a heavenly dog bed and River, well, she basically sleeps wherever she wants.  But clearly she doesn’t want the heavenly dog bed otherwise she would not hesitate to whine at Rosco until he moved.

-K

Musings – On Crossing the Pond

When we were preparing for this trip last summer, a friend of ours wrote on our Facebook page, “You are fortunate to have the time, money and courage to undertake such an adventure.”  Undoubtedly we are fortunate in the time and money category, but right now I am more thankful for the courage than anything else.

As exciting as it all is, there is a hint of terror as well.  Thinking about being so far from everything that is familiar sends a little stab of adrenalin right to my heart.  I am thankful that we warmed up with a few months in the U.S. first as we have adapted to being out of our comfort zone with experiences like always shopping in an unfamiliar grocery store (more frustrating than you might imagine), not knowing the perfect bakery for that monthly piece of double-chocolate cake and relying almost constantly on a GPS system.  Gone are the days when I would drive home from work, arriving in my driveway with little knowledge of having made the drive at all.

As wonderful as it has been to be staying in Clark’s condo for (double yikes!) two months, I miss the homey feel of Salt, she is small, but she is ours and after four months on the road, she is home.  Sadly, right now she and Pepper are sitting on the dock in Galveston awaiting their turn at loading onto the Chesapeake Highway 12 freighter.

In years past, we have traveled around various parts of Europe and it is all wonderful until about day 10 when you find yourself exhausted with trying to figure out a different language.  It will be interesting to see how we combat that as we (darn well better) make it more than ten days!

-K

Musings - On the U.S.A.

While planning our Atlantic crossing, I find myself thinking back over our last five months in the United States.  As some of you know, our original plan was to leave from California and head directly to Europe but we paused and thought, “Hmmm, having never done this before, maybe we should stay in the US for a bit and see how it goes.”  So we set off and discovered a ton about ourselves and RV’ing but, surprisingly, even more about this country that we have called home for years.  Ok, decades.

First of all, it is gigantic and gorgeous and so very varied.  Due to the sheer size of the states, the geography changes slowly.   The people, though similar in their welcoming attitude, seem to share a defining characteristic state by state:  From the naturally healthy people in Colorado; to the Polartec-loving people in Washington; and down to the fiercely independent but extremely hospitable people of Texas; they all had one thing in common:  They were open to a complete stranger walking up to them and asking questions.

What struck me the most was how employed everyone is.  Like most Americans, we watched too much T.V. prior to our departure (a habit I do not miss at all particularly when the news bombards you with the “crisis in unemployment” twenty-four hours a day.)   But let me tell you, driving through the small towns and larger cities, you see Americans at work.  Most are working for someone else but a great number of them are working for themselves.  The sole-proprietor might be struggling but they are still out there running grocery, clothing and food stores, or businesses that keep America moving forward.  Contrary to my previous belief, the entire country does not shop exclusively at Walmart, Starbucks and the Gap.   (I, for one, have shopped more often at Walmart in the last five months than I ever did in my entire life.   But when pulling your 19’ home behind you, the large parking lots and one-stop shopping appear like an oasis.)

So off we go to discovery new countries!  The U.K. is first then I imagine we’ll be heading south as soon as possible, perhaps coming back up to Paris for Springtime.  Wow, how fortunate are we?

-K

Musings – On Staying in Shape in 19’

Determined not to be the Fat Americans when we entered Europe, we started out last year by going on a diet.  By the time we set off on the Aventura (September 1, 2011) we each had dropped twenty pounds and were still heading in the right direction.  Indeed, four weeks into the new life, I had lost an additional two pounds.

Myfitnesspal.com should get the most credit for our weight loss.  It is a simple on-line tool that allows you to enter the food you eat each day and compare it to the amount of calories you are burning.  Based on your weight, age and activity level, it comes up with a set number of calories that you can eat each day without gaining or losing weight.  If you want to lose weight you either have to eat fewer of those calories or burn more via exercise.  (Their comprehensive database has most foods already referenced and quite a few exercises.)   The best part of the program is, after logging in your day of eating and exercising, it provides you with, “If every day were like today, you would weigh XXX in six weeks.”  Let me tell you, that can be a great motivator - each day elicits either a "Yahoo!" or an "Oh My!"

A wonderful tool for us two A-type personalities however, you need an internet connection to record all the data and during the first month of the Aventura we were shy of an internet connection most of the time.  I think we continued to lose because we were hiking almost every day and eating fresh trout, grilled vegetables and very little else.  Unfortunately, when the cold weather set in and we headed North, we found ourselves inside most of the time—maybe getting an hour walk every day, most often not.  We also had fallen out of the habit of recording our food and exercise so we really weren't surprised when, four months after our start, we had gained back four of our twenty pounds.

Having by this time reached south-east Texas where an attempt at playing tennis landed Alan back at the orthopedist and hiking rarely involves a change in altitude, we needed a new plan.  Europe, after all, was closer than ever and we were fast approaching the wrong side of the Fat Americans.   So Alan, on a friend’s recommendation, ordered the P90-X training system.  A set of DVDs that promise to lead you to your best fitness level ever in only 90 days.  (For those of you familiar with the system, we are doing the “Lean” option, the other two options promising more muscle definition than we are after.)

Obviously, an exercise program that involves sit-ups, push-ups, lunges, yoga, martial arts, kickboxing and, my favorite, stretching (corpse pose, anyone?) is not being performed--even by one person--in a 19’ trailer.  So we took two cleansing breaths, bought yoga mats, set the DVD player on Salt’s doorstep and began our training; basking in the fresh air and curious stares of our neighbors.

I have never been so sore in my life, but it sure feels good.  

-K

P.S.  As you can imagine, The Noses are not thrilled with this new exercise regime:  River tries to walk underneath and lick our faces when we are in downward facing dog and Rosco constantly tries to sleep on the mats.  Worst of all, we are so tired when we are done that they aren’t getting their usual long walks.  Soon I hope we will be able to do it all.

Musings - On Snow Days

I have to say, I am quite proud of us:  We navigated our way between two snow storms in our drive south. Using all our resources, as we have learned to do, we mapped the weather and managed to slip out of Colorado and into Southern New Mexico after one storm but in time to hunker down for the next.

So here we sit in the Bottomless Lakes State Park (Roswell, NM), with snow falling down in large chucks, but not a lot of accumulation.  (Thankfully, it is hovering around 32 degrees down here!)  We attempted a walk in the almost horizontally-blowing snow, but succumbed to the warmth and Porter awaiting us back at Salt.

It has been nice being holed up for a bit.  Alan is finishing (and even starting and finishing) projects like exchanging all the bulbs for LED, creating a banana hanger, and, maybe most important of all, re-arranging the cords that hang down from the TV so Rosco has an easier time sleeping on the bed.

For me, I whipped up a batch of my Flax Seed Bread and while the yeast is hard at work, I am kicking back and reading a book.  

Miles driven:  0.  Cheers to snow days!

-K

P.S.  Christmas Eve day will find us at the Laundromat and doing some final grocery shopping.  We have a turkey breast (only part of a turkey would fit in our oven), stuffing, mashed potatoes, gravy, and fresh cranberry sauce coming.  Starting the day with cinnamon rolls!  (And a short prayer that the NBA games will be shown on one of the channels we receive [surprisingly well] with our antenna—must be the UFO museum in town helping out.)

Musings - On Missing Butter & Panic Attacks

I have mentioned how great it is to travel with dogs, but they do have their moments.


When we were in Nelson, B.C., it was so cold that I didn't want to leave The Noses in the car while we went out to dinner (I'm talking 15 degrees Fahrenheit!)  So we took pity on them, put away everything within reach (or so we thought), drew two deep breaths and headed out for the evening, leaving them toasty and warm (and sleeping on our bed) in Salt.


We returned to find the bag of John Ward Fine Coffee on the floor, with some good sized teeth marks.  Thankfully only a little coffee was missing, apparently The Noses didn't enjoy it as much as we did.  


I then spotted the cover to the butter dish on the floor.  Knowing River's penchant for laying on our pillows, I turned them over and low and behold the butter dish appeared.  Empty.  At this point, River let out a nice smooth burp (as if we didn't already blame her--Rosco has his issues, as you will see shortly, but getting into food isn't one of them.)


Oh, but it wasn't over yet . . .


Crawling into bed that night, we were surprised to find a well-licked but still mostly square brick of butter nicely tucked into our sheets.
_________________


As for Rosco, he has honed an art called, "Fake a Panic Attack in Order to Sleep on the Big Bed."


Once we hit seriously cold weather, I awoke one night to Rosco's heavy panting from the floor next to our bed.  He is normally a mellow dog--doesn't let much get to him, and I haven't heard him pant like that since his last airplane flight.  Being concerned that he was having a heart attack, I let him up on the bed to sleep at my feet.  (Remember, our bed is only 48" wide, so adding even a small dog to the mix is difficult.)


He promptly stopped panting and fell asleep.


He now does a repeat performance of this every night.  Sometimes I try to make him go back to his bed but he pants and pants and pants and I worry and worry and worry about that heart attack.  


I have taken to just starting the night with him at my feet.  


And they say you can't teach an old dog new tricks! 


-K

Musings: On Carpe Diem - Dec. 1, 2011

This whole trip as been about Carpe Diem - seize the hiking day before your knees give out, seize the ability to travel the world before your funds run out and others we have learned along the way:


Carpe Sanitem - Seize a dump station when presented at your pitch no matter what.


Carpe Grocem - Seize the groceries and put them away before driving (don't just leave them on the floor of the trailer to be put away when you pull into your next pitch.)


Carpe H2Oem - Seize the ability to fill your fresh water even if your are "sure" you will be at a full hook up site the coming night.  (Yes, Neil, this is still on the list!)


Carpe Burgem - Seize the hamburger whose description promises, albeit in poor grammar, "the Cheeseburger you have been waiting for."  (Lunch stop at the Porterhouse Steak House in Moses Lake, WA, delicious!)


Carpe Laundrem - Seize the ability to do a load of laundry when your RV Park has machines.


Now I must go Carpe Showerem while we have plenty of hot water.

Musings – On Who to Bring Along

If you chose to do this with a companion, the first requirement is that you ________ each other very much.  Do you think this blank should be filled with love?  No way:  It’s respect.  Love might get you a little something-something on a lazy afternoon, but it won’t make you, while backing up a trailer, turn the wheels to the left while your entire body is screaming, “No to the right!  To the right!” 

You need to respect your companion more than anything else as, living with them 24/7, you will hear and see them do things you just don’t understand.  If you respect them, instead of thinking, “What in the hell was that?”, you think, “There must be a good reason for that.”

Sure, we struggle with a few topics.  For example, I just can’t find a good reason for Alan’s idea of when laundry is dry enough to bring home.  Laugh if you must, but this almost caused our first Aventura fight:  We were packing up from an RV Park (running late) and he brought back the laundry, dumping one load on the bed with, “this one is dry” and another in the middle of the floor with, “this one is still wet.”  Really, what is the purpose of bringing back wet laundry?  I am still searching for the, “there must be a good reason for that.”  (He was concerned about checking out late.  I said I would pay a late fee, I am not driving down the road with a load of wet laundry on our floor!  I took the load back to the dryer.)  

Alas, another laundry load returned home yesterday, not completely dry.

As for [mostly] non-speaking companions, I vote for a four-legged one (or two.)  First of all, they make you get up out of bed every morning and go for a walk—well, truth be told, ours make Alan get up out of bed every morning and go for a walk.  Plus, they are always happy to see you, even when all you’ve done is move two feet into the bathroom and back.  

Ok, one foot into the bathroom and back.

-K

Musings - In General

Give the people what they want!  That has always been an entertainer’s mantra (some did this better than others) but it is what is leading me to start a section of postings labeled, “Musings.”  People (maybe not you, dear reader) want to know more about what this life is like.  So here’s where we’ll place all those odd things that come to mind about life on the road 24/7 (like where are we going to buy that hoity-toity dog food?)

Today I woke up, looked out the front of Salt, saw a brown box and immediately thought, “Oh, UPS brought us something!”  That’s how at home I feel.  (Never mind that my own mother doesn’t know where I am on any given day.)  Sure, there are a few experiences that get old (yes, already) like shopping in unfamiliar grocery stores and banging your elbows as you get out of the shower, but mostly this life is incredibly enjoyable.

We came prepared with lots of intellectual goals:   Botanical painting, learning more French, learning Spanish, studying geography and botany, but haven’t had the time to do one of those items yet.  (The Musing postings will undoubtedly be filled with what we are learning!)   Alan was musing last night at where our time goes.  Well, right now it is going to hiking and fishing with occasional SAP work.  Someday (really soon, I fear), it will be cold, rainy and/or snowy where we are and those two out of three of those options will be off the table.  I think we have plenty of indoor time coming.  (In the meantime, I have removed my “French” study hour from my calendar so the appointment reminder doesn’t startle the fish.)

Finally, in answer to Bryan K's question of "why in the name of god would you leave that house in Laguna with that view?!?!", all I can say is, as delightful as that view is, it never changes.  Both travelers at heart, we embrace change and love a good challenge.  We are learning more about each other (and our limits) every day--that sounds like a good Musing topic--look for that one and others coming soon to our "postings by label" section on the left.  

-K