WENT THERE, DID THAT, CRIED A BIT : EUROPE TRIP PART 5

So, let's finish this up.  Now for the itinerary, the WOW moments, the exhaustion.  LOL

In my first trip post I included a map of our itinerary stops if you want to refer back.

#1 Haarlem, Netherlands:  We arrived a few days before our tour began so we were there for 5 nights total.  It started to feel like "home".  

WOW Moment -- The quiet part:   A sidewalk cafe watching the bikes race by and locals go about their day.  Walking in a tree-lined quiet neighborhood past an elementary school where parents gathered in a large group at the gate to gather up their children into passenger carts on their bikes.  Meeting our tour group, curious to know them, knowing we will be together for three weeks....

WAIT!  STOP! 

I had a whole different idea for this final post.  I planned to go through each stop on our itinerary and describe my salient thoughts and feelings, the WOW moments -- sort of a travelogue, complete with lovely photos.  I only made it to typing out our fourth stop (Salzburg) when I ditched that idea and deleted the whole thing.  Not working.  

I realize my daily Trip Journal had all of that, and more, stated with more richness and immediacy. This blog post felt like a sterile and distant summary.  Even I was bored with it.

So here's what I will say instead:  

I came home completely exhausted.  I'd caught a bad cold, which showed up on the second day home, and lingers still.  I wrecked my back lugging my suitcase and backpack up and down hundreds of stairs, over bridges, on and off buses, trains, trams, boats, gondolas, up and down hotel stairways.  I have taken large-for-me quantities of Ibuprofen in the past 2-1/2 weeks and have sat with a heating pad on my back daily.  My sciatica and SI Joint pains are significant, as well as the return of my hip/periformis pain which I thought "cured".  Yes, I'm whining.  This trip took a physical toll and I am sad about that.  I feel old and feeble in the aftermath of it all.  But on the trip I felt strong and capable.  Delayed misery.  I came home thinking my Rick Steves tour days were over after this, our 4th tour.

Jet lag and changing hotels every two nights is no joke.  Neither are the sometimes sleepless nights and 6 a.m. alarms to get to breakfast and on the bus by 7:00 or 8:00 a.m.  Travel is not "vacation".  This isn't a leisurely pursuit.  It is the pursuit of sights and experiences and surprises and oohs and ahhs, coupled with the price to be paid for the distinct thrill and deep pleasure and satisfaction of seeing and experiencing iconic sites that for some are only dreamed of or are the stuff of TV and movies. 

 

On the plus side:  I was shocked to be moved to tears so often, in a good way.  I've written many times in this blog about the many interesting traits of "highly sensitive people" and I am among the 20% of the population blessed with those traits.  So tears, especially of the bittersweet kind, are common for me.  Still.  I didn't expect to see Michelangelo's  David in Florence and immediately start to cry.  Same with the Birth of Venus.  Same with walking into Notre Dame.  (My art history classes in college came to life.)  Same with walking into our top floor hotel room with huge windows looking out over Paris. That might have also been relief that the 6 a.m. wake ups and long busy days of the tour were over and we were on our own in Paris for three more days in a hotel room where I didn't have to step over my suitcase to get to the bathroom.  RS is known for choosing small, "charming" hotels -- emphasis on small this time.

I am proud of how I handled times of feeling unwell, of stress, anxiety, and frustration.  High sensitivity means high degrees of emotional, empathetic, and physical discomfort overload.  I felt it all and was able to let it go. 

I am deeply grateful for the many ways Hub and I supported each other through times of sadness and difficulty.  We shared the same tour-related frustrations, made allowances for each other's moods, opinions, and habits.  The everyday work and dedication we continue to put into this 53 year marriage pays off in ways large and small.  I felt we were a solid team.  

At one stop in particular, the trip brought up family of origin memories for Hub, with the old baggage still recognizable.  For me I heard the familiar 'I'm not good enough' inner voice at times for reasons that are familiar.  And we were there for each other working through it all.  Real life comes along no matter where you go.

Hub also supported me through my significant frustrations and feelings of being "left out" at times. I have made choices based on health and spiritual values to be meat and alcohol free in my diet. But the group meals were mostly meat focused. I was the only pescatarian/vegetarian, so I had fish and had two inedible vegetarian offerings (See photo of rice/bread crumbs/cheese balls w/spinach. Nope.).  And there was an alcohol focus; LOTS of wine, beer, and other liquors at every dinner and at stops in between which seemed to delight everyone.  I was the only non-alcohol drinker, so generally I had sparkling water in place of alcohol.  It was either that or juice or a carbonated soft drink at dinner.  (I'm not a child.) Not a mocktail in sight.  At other tastings and "alcohol occasions", I wasn't offered anything. Hub joined in with all the meat and alcohol offerings, but he said he saw clearly through my eyes how I was so often not included in talk of food and drink and the "party" atmosphere of after-dinner Lemoncello shots.  I tried to be a good sport and smile through it all.  I'm not sure how to do any of this differently. It's the nature of being a minority in a majority culture, and it's hard.

I noticed that the language barrier was a low level frustration.  I only speak English.  I could not read street signs, could not understand anything anyone was saying that was not in English and even then the accents were difficult to navigate.  I could overhear a conversation and still not know what anyone was talking about. I did not know what all cultural references were or how to interpret the local customs.  I realized the deficit in not learning a second language. (Or third or fourth or fifth language, as our tour guide did, moving seamlessly between them all as needed.)

I have a deeper appreciation for why those who come to the U.S., either by choice or in desperation, want to gather in enclaves of ethnic and national commonality.  I would seek out those of my language and culture in a strange land too.  I am in awe that people can assimilate as they do into a new home so different from their own.  And I was only in Europe, not exactly an unknown entity of cultural confusion.  

I noticed I felt safe there.  We all learned about and protected ourselves from the tourist scams and petty street crime.  But I never felt my physical safety was in jeopardy.  I realized how freeing that felt.

I noticed how often I was frustrated by the crowds nearly everywhere we went.  And I realized I was one of those contributing to the crowd.  We were all there to fulfill a travel goal, to have perhaps a once in a lifetime experience.  We and the locals alike, in that great sea of humanity were all the same -- with hopes, dreams, joys, challenges, families, jobs, worries, humor, hunger, and exhaustion.  We were crowds of beautiful human beings trying to live good and meaningful lives.  I did not feel an "us" and "them" divide.

While not everything made me cry, almost everything made me grateful and incredulous that I was actually there.  We saw so much, so many iconic sights/sites.  Scenes, places, people, memories pop into my mind at random times and I feel a warm and grateful appreciation for my great good fortune to have gone there and to have shared it with such a stellar group of people as our tour mates.  One never knows how a group will come together.  This one felt like a group of friends from the start and more so as we said our goodbyes.  What a gift. 

So what were my favorite WOW moments?  The majesty of the Swiss Alps and the surprise of Paris charming me when I was so prepared to hate it.  

Will I ever do another Rick Steves tour?  Well.....maybe not.  At least not after the NEXT one we have booked for next spring.  Scandanavia here we come!

At least, that's the view from here...©