The Joy in Finding Flow on an Adventure, Part 2 of 3 on Fully Enjoying Travel

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Lake Front Camping? YES!

I love camping and water activities. I used to enjoy sharing these experiences with others. During this pandemic, though, I have severely limited my social engagements. Since returning from Japan to Atlanta in April 2022, I have prioritized reconnecting with my family. So when a close friend told me about some fellow travelers gathering to camp and hang out along nearby Lake Hartwell for the weekend, I could not resist coming out of mini-isolation. On this second camping trip of the season, I ended up having a fantastic time by practicing some elements of mindful travel. The `Lake Crash` met several critical criteria; I could camp, play in the water and meet many old friends all in one go!

In the first post of this three-part series exploring meaningful travel, I considered how preparation and planning with a few good questions could help shape a significant experience. In this second post of the series, I focus on how to make the most of your time once you embark on a journey. I suggest these pointers to help lean into time away from home. I make it a point to: (1) be truly present in your surroundings, (2) remain flexible when circumstances change, and (3) try to connect with locals.

Traveling can be a spiritually transcendent journey. Doubt that? Show up in Pakistan with your luggage missing, at the mercy of friends and family, and stripped of American luxuries. Is there any better way to know yourself? In exchange for your lost stuff, you get the opportunity to see yourself through your travel interactions. In a talk on observing the self, Tara Brach recounts her inner struggle with control when she traveled abroad. If we pay attention to what arises in us, travel becomes a transformative educational experience.

 

1. Be Present

Thankfully, you do not have to lose your luggage or feel socially awkward to get the most out of your travel experience. While I am on an adventure, I find joy in being fully present. I am mentally and physically attentive.  I tune into my senses. I pay attention to the small details. I notice light sounds; I take in vistas. I listen to the local dialect.

By far, though, my favorite practice to help me stay grounded in the present is to go sans phone. I often tell people I will not be available by phone and then turn on airplane mode. For many modern travelers, I know this is a bit of heresy. Of course, I have used Google Maps to find a great restaurant in a city I did not know well. However, when I backpacked India, I was proud of my ability to find a great restaurant without Google Maps. I learned to look for external indicators in finding a good restaurant. By watching the crowds and seeing what looked hip and alive, I tried some strange foods and enjoyed the mystery of being a little under-informed.

Nowadays, I find it harder to turn off the phone. On my trip to Lake Hartwell, though there was service at the lake, I was determined to stay present. After checking in on my step-dad, who had some health issues, I turned on airplane mode and left my phone in my tent. By cutting the wire, I avoided the inexplicable desire to scroll Instagram. Instead, I pushed myself to meet people outside of my bubble. Overall, just turning off the damn thing brings a new way to navigate the world and a sense of surroundings.

 

2. Be Flexible

Robert Burns, an 18th-century poet, once wrote, “The best-laid schemes o’ mice an’ men / Gang aft a-gley.” In modern words: regardless of how well you plan, things will go awry. In my mind: when the plan is interrupted, things get interesting.

On my road trip to Maryland, the night I was meant to sleep on Kent Island on the eastern shore of Maryland, there was an incredible rainy downpour. I first heard about it casually cruising the FM stations in the area. When I arrived at the highway passing through DC, it was dark, and I could not see three feet ahead. So instead of staying on a strict timeline, I modified my plan. I pulled over and read in my car for a while. A few hours later, the rain eased up. I drove to the edge of Chesapeake Bay and watched the sunrise from a state park. Instead of being grumpy about the change, by being open, I lucked out with a beautiful morning. I saw an eastern sunrise, wandered on a beach by myself, and spotted a fox and many deer.

More recently, I had (three!) light-device failures during my camping excursion on Lake Hartwell. After tubing with the group on Sunday, I arrived at my campsite without a working lamp. Instead of concocting a light on the fly, I enjoyed the pitch-dark night. That Sunday night, there were few nearby campers, and the silence became louder with the sounds of the critters in the sky and the murmuring of water lapping the nearby shore.

3. Connect with Locals

 

A group of us off to tube down the Saluda river

The best way to get a pulse on local life is to put yourself in the current. Exactly how to find that flow depends on where you go. Indeed, going to a local place for a bite (instead of breakfast at the all-inclusive resort) can be the difference between night and day. If you are in Italy, you want to pop into a café for a cornetto in the morning. Listen to the surrounding chatter and try to strike up a conversation! There is no better way to get a sense of the character of a place. The richest literature is filled with choice idioms, odd references, and stories that live in a community. Get a take on the local events, festivities, and even politics by chatting with people in the street. Sharing your own insights might even help you find common ground with a stranger.

Long before I became an Airbnb host, I traveled and met locals through an organization called CouchSurfing (CS). Over the years, thanks to CS, I have enjoyed heart-warming connections and participated in local treasures across the globe. For example, I watched the Fêtes de Genève fireworks on Lake Geneva from a choice spot on a finger jutting into the lake. In Tokyo, a friendly CS spirit doubled as a salsero. During my Indian backpacking adventure, my host invited me to play Scrabble with a vacationing Englishman on a pristine beach in Goa.

A group of tenacious CS hosts organized the Lake Hartwell camping. There, I met CS hosts from across the region and other like-minded travelers. Among the joys of the Lake Crash, I saw some friends that I had not seen in over five years while also making new friends. Through former strangers, I learned a bit of history about Lake Hartwell and about a mysterious cemetery island created when the area was flooded. I also got the coordinates for a tried-and-tested swim hole in Alabama to check out on an upcoming adventure.

 

By planning well and participating wholeheartedly, travel shifts from just a simple change in setting to a meaningful experience. As I am on the road on an adventure, I make it a point to bring my heart and mind to the moment. When I focus on the little details, I find joy in presence. As I interact in places, I welcome the opportunity to chat with strangers. Often, long after I have gone, the unexpected encounters become part of the treasure I carry in my memory.

 

The Joy in Planning an Adventure: Fully Enjoying Travel, Part 1 of 3

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As I prepared for my first solo road trip in over 5 years, I found joy in browsing Google Maps for good campsites. I wrote out a packing list. I cleaned and tested my camp stove. Later, when I gathered and checked off my list, I sorted my supplies by *uses*. The joy in preparation ignited my musings from a previous post; I reflected on how to distinguish a casual weekend vacation from a deep purpose-driven trip. One difference I find is that meaningful travel is something of a treat. Like romance, there is a tingling feeling in anticipation.

Hammock Time. A key motivator on the Blue Ridge Parkway

If you let it, one adventure can bring three entirely separate ways to appreciate and relish meaningful travel. A well-curated trip elevates the experience of travel; the trip becomes more than a physical adventure. It becomes a treasure trove for the psyche. I will explore these three separate ways to find joy in meaningful travel in a three-part series. These are the special joys in: (1) planning the trip, joy in (2) staying present in the moment of travel, and (3) later reflecting on those moments.

The planning and anticipation stage is the first component of enjoying a trip. Here is the difference between that quick drive-thru meal on your way home and going to a special, reservation-required restaurant. You consider several reviews, pick the ambiance, and the cuisine, and set out the right outfit. You were excited in advance and then chose a complementing bottle for your meal. Then you find the right nook with a vista to sit and enjoy your moments with glee. To dine for a special occasion, then, is to relish with anticipation, take in with appreciation, and then reminisce. The whole experience can be cherished by setting aside space for enjoyment.

Lining Up the Goodies

In the planning stage of an adventure, I start by thinking through the contours of a trip. What shape, in the best case scenario, will this trip take? The Container of my travel includes the big W questions:  where, what, who, and why details of any destination. This naive planning stage is one of my favorite parts of travel. Here we are full of anticipation and opportunity to make a dream come true. A clear idea of what you want from a trip creates the space for the imagination to dream up and fill in the colorful details.

 

For the contours of my recent road trip, I knew the first W. I was leaving Atlanta to get my dose of nature. The WHY was that I missed hanging under trees. Hence, the WHAT: I brought with me a hammock. On this road trip, I intended to see my cousin in Maryland. Thus, my route for natural beauty was calculated with her home as an eventual endpoint. I had about one week free, so I developed a rough itinerary of stops, balancing driving times with full-frontal green being.

What do I need?

As you plan a meaningful trip, consider your W questions: Will you pick a wide container? Or a tall one? The foundations of your adventure plus your imagination get you enjoying your travel even before you have begun. For me, the big questions and considerations go roughly in this order:

  • Why are you going? What are your main motivations? What do you want to do?

For example: do you imagine storefronts to shop? Do you need it quiet to relax? Or craggy mountains to explore? Perhaps you are on the hunt for a particular flavor.

  • Who will you go with?

Another key parameter is who will you travel with. As I am very used to solo trips, it takes a bit more adjustment to include loved ones. Soon I will take my mother and step-father on a city adventure; I need to consider good pit stops while street strolling so they can cool off and recharge. When I recently went to DC for a family member’s wedding, my nearly two-year-old niece, Jenna changed the very shape of our trip to DC. My family juggled planned outings with mandatory nap times for the little one.

  • Where will you go?

This to me often ties into #1. If your why is to relax, perhaps Thailand is calling your name in the form of beaches and massages. If your time away is to indulge your history hobby, perhaps Colonial Williamsburg is appealing to you. For Cajun cuisine set against a jazz background, New Orleans might be the right tune.

If you are a bit bookish, there are so many joys that come from getting a good background scoop pre-adventure. Many great travel guides will have a historical or political context primer. My family once traveled to Turkey during the middle of an internal civil rebellion. We didn’t do much research beforehand and it took us by surprise when we ended up in the middle of a protest on the Asian side of Istanbul. I would not recommend that to a novice traveler.

  • Time-related questions: When? And how long? This consideration is key for festivals, and seasonal activities.

The contour and agenda of a trip are entirely shaped by how much time you have. For example, when I wanted to see India, I knew a week or two was not going to cut it.  I spent about five months backpacking the country over a decade ago; it was great. I would need at least another year before I covered even half of the states.

If you are into a seasonal activity, remember the opposite hemisphere has an opposite season. For example, summer in the USA means wintertime in Australia. These considerations are important if you are trying to catch a ski or sweat. The cherry blossoms in Japan bloom only in early spring.

  • What will you do?

All this thinking ahead can be exciting. The caveat is to avoid being overbooked on a holiday. I try to balance plan and openness with the parameters in mind.  For example, as I learned the hard way, if I were to return to Cusco and want to hike the Inca Trail, I will need reservations well in advance. But the meals and city strolling, I would keep open to adjustment.

Long rolling vistas. Check.

As I reflect now, my solo road trip went well. I find myself giving thanks for thinking through the elements of my drive. I am pleased with my plan. Because I had no unexpected items missing, I had no irritating Walmart wanderings. I had extra water, dish soap, and even a plastic bag to collect trash. As a result, I enjoyed a glorious sense of autonomy and nature reunion. I enjoyed the feeling of self-sufficiency camping in remote places. The preparation portion took about 10% of travel time, but it made hiccups on the trip easier to manage.

I encourage any traveler to think through their excursion. All good journeys require a bit of wiggle room. Still, that is no excuse to show up ignorant and ill-prepared. The very anticipation of the destination is the beginning of enjoying your travels. Happy plotting.