I’m a five-foot-tall woman of color whose name has half as many characters as the English alphabet. I’m also a child of immigrants and an Air Force kid who has been on the move my entire life.
There’s a very good chance I don’t see travel the same way you do.
The difference in our perspectives on the places we go, the ways we get there, and the things we experience when pushing ourselves outside of our comfort zones is what this column is all about.
I’m a journalist whose curiosity runs deep. I’ve visited most major American cities and many global capitals. I’ve been to 47 states, 50 countries, and six continents and am enough of a geography nerd that I keep track. I’ve traveled for business and for pleasure, and I’ve been combining the two my entire career.
I’ve traveled by plane, train, car, boat, and bus. I’ve flown first class, business class, economy, Spirit, and EasyJet. I’ve stayed at hostels, five-star hotels, and several points in between. I’ve discovered experiences worth making an arduous journey for and places I would never recommend to anyone.
Among my fondest memories is when bad weather delayed my return to Washington, D.C., from northern Canada after a February work trip. A snowstorm meant I got to spend an extra day on Baffin Island where average February temperatures are between -9F and -24F. I went dogsledding, visited one of the two bars in town, and made friends I’d later host in New York.
Among my more difficult travel memories? Getting the side-eye from other passengers when settling into my first or business class seat.
Being followed by a “helpful” store clerk while looking for snail mucin sheet masks in a tiny pharmacy in Ho Chi Minh City.
Seeing the lingering effects of apartheid in South Africa. Seeing the townships where millions of South Africans of color were relocated and the vast economic inequity that has been the result.
Being called white and Black in a single day in India, in the town whose main temple I was named after. I was called white because of my American accent and Black because of my dark skin. It was a clear reminder that perspective — even other people’s — can influence the way we see and experience the world.
Over the years, I’ve learned that some things are worth paying for — especially when it comes to travel. But I’ve also learned that money doesn’t have to be a barrier to travel.
Through this column, I’ll talk about how I’ve made travel a way of life and share my experiences getting back out there after more than a year of the lockdown life. I’ll help you navigate pandemic travel restrictions and discover experiences that are worth the red tape. I’ll help you decide which splurges are worth it and which to skip and talk through big questions about ethics, inequity, and responsible travel with you.
This column is for the travelers who didn’t wait until they were married, retired, or had more money to explore the world.
It’s for the widow from India who wrote to me on Facebook, eager for glimpses of a world in which life, responsibilities, and culture she was never encouraged to explore.
It’s for the Canadian auto parts saleswoman who read a story I wrote about solo travel, wrote to me on LinkedIn, and reluctantly found the courage to set out on her own solo adventure to Portugal — and what an adventure it was.
In a way, this project is for the version of myself who was raised with the assumption that I would not question the cultural norms to which I’d be subject. It’s for the me who was told this world wasn’t my oyster, and it’s for the version of me who decided to take off anyway.
By telling my story and sharing my experiences, I hope to inspire you to explore the world and to help you travel better. Along the way, I hope we can build a community committed to better understanding the places we visit and the reasons we go.
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This former journalist (well, as a podcaster I guess I’m back) and nearly two-million-miler welcomes your blog and perspective. And your stories conjure up memories of one of my favorite episodes of the (not so) sitcom WKRP in Cincinnati. Actually it’s the opening of the second run of the series where they are hiring a new program director and an applicant, played by Mykelti Williamson, shows up at the station and the manager, Mr. Carlson, hems, haws and stammers before he blurts out that “this is not a black radio station.” The would-be PD (who gets hired) tells him it’s OK and that he’s not a black program director. Sometimes we have to be confronted with new realities in order to embrace them together. (Then you had me wondering for a moment if I should feel guilty if I whisper in the ear of a person of color standing next to me in a shop if I sense that they may be about to be ripped off — which can and does occur — but then I would do the same for anyone else except that in the latter case I would not feel a double sense of injustice in that the attempt might be based on a nefarious reason.) I am old enough to be able to rejoice in seeing barriers and ice broken and to celebrate those who prefer to light candles than to curse the darkness. And I think the best way for us to deal with and hopefully correct these awkward situations is to deal with them. Like the time I was cooling my heels waiting for a delayed flight at the Des Moines airport with a couple from Ohio whose daughter was graduating with a degree in broadcast journalism. I dutifully wrote down the name and phone number of the news director of a TV station in Eau Claire, Wisconsin (one of the finest small market stations in the country from which many careers were launched thanks to that mentor). The dad, a state trooper, stammered a bit before asking how it might be in Eau Claire for a young person of color. I told him that there’s a statue in Carson Park of a guy named Hank Aaron who started his baseball career there in 1952 so Eau Claire has a little experience with that. The reality (and hope) is that the more inclusion we have the more barriers fall, a point Dr. Martin Luther King, jr., made when I spoke to him at my high school in 1967. He was right. And the more inclusion and diversity I’ve seen prompts me to wonder and regret how much we all missed for so many years. So keep on traveling and just being you.
As for destinations, hmmm. As a landscape and wildlife photographer I have quite a few ideas. You’ve been to the Netherlands and are correct that there’s more than just Amsterdam. I was just there twice in the last month or so. Three places you don’t want to miss are The Hague (Den Haag) and the university towns of Leiden and Utrecht. Den Haag, the seat of Parliament and the world courts, is a diverse, international city that’s clean, safe and fun (and less crowded and pricey than Amsterdam). The Peace Palace, Mauritshuis and Escher museums and the beach are not to be missed. Leiden is your stop to take the 854 shuttle bus to the Keukenhof and is home to Pieterskerk from where the Pilgrims departed for the United States. It is a bustling old city as well and home for centuries to Leiden University. Another college town s Utrecht with a huge shopping mall to the right of the train station and theater to the left (where I just saw the magnificent Tina Turner show). “Holland” is way more than (the overpriced, crowded, touristy-tacky except for the museums) Amsterdam. Once you learn how easy (and cheap) it is to navigate public transit it’s a snap to get around the country and any of its major cities. The tolerant Dutch do favor if you show one courtesy: DO NOT RENT A BIKE! That’s their form of commuting and recreation and you must be a very experienced bike rider to navigate through and with their bicycle traffic lanes. If you’re not up to that skill set you’ll mess up their commute and that when Dutch tolerance will be strained!