What Not to Do
Welcome to my random musings about the world, on a weekly-to-occasional basis.
Where we are: Today we’re leaving Romania (*sad face*); we’re going to check out Moldova for a few days. We spent the early part of the week in Sighisoara, where Dracula was born (not actually kidding). I’m told it’s the best preserved medieval citadel in Europe. The annual medieval festival is this weekend; we left on Wednesday. Sometimes you win, but sometimes you don’t get to see people dressed up in costumes.
What Not to Do
Travel planning is an art—one that Lee and I are mostly pretty good at, but only because we’ve learned some lessons the hard way. When we’re considering a destination, we tend to glance at the weather averages first, then flight/accommodation prices, then we either book it, or we don’t. In our bumbling around the world, we usually forget to consider things like local holidays, seasonal quirks, and whether or not the museum is going to be open. Over the years, we’ve repeatedly stumbled into the wrong place at the wrong time. Let me save you from some of our mistakes.
Ramadan—if you’re not Muslim, I’d suggest not going to a conservative Muslim country during Ramadan, unless you’re interested in fasting during the day and eating at night. Large evening meals disrupt my sleep and my weight. And as I’ve mentioned previously, we arrived in Algeria on the last day of Ramadan, and restaurants remained closed for another five days. Doublecheck the details before you book, if lunch matters to you.
Madrid in spring—we’ve spent time in the Spanish capital in both April and May, and I don’t know what trees they grow, but my body hates them. In April, I felt like I was being stabbed in the eyes (on the other hand, the Easter processions were absolutely fascinating). In May, I wanted to scratch my whole face off. Never again.
Heat waves, obviously, are difficult to predict, but as a lot of people have learned in the last few weeks, Europe is definitively getting hotter. We lived through a rough hot spell in Berlin, during our first summer of travel. We learned lots of fun tricks for no-AC situations, like keeping the windows covered all day, taking cold baths before bed, and spending afternoons at the movie theater (didn’t matter what language the movie was in—we were there for a nap). Since then, we’ve tried to stick with higher-altitude (cooler) spots if we’re going to be in Europe in July and August.
Delhi in November—One year we were in Delhi for three November weeks, when they had the worst pollution crisis they’d ever had (at that point). We’ve paid attention since then, and it turns out they always have a pollution crisis in November, and it seems to mostly get worse every year. That was when we bought our first masks, back in 2017. Even masked, we were concerned that it was unhealthy to be outside, so we didn’t really get to see much of Delhi. I’d like a do-over, please.
Snorkeling during rainy season—another November, we decided to take a little snorkeling holiday on an idyllic Thai island. We very deliberately chose the island that is known for having the best snorkeling in Thailand. It turns out Thai weather is kind of complicated, especially on the islands that surround the mainland to the east, south, and west. Rainy season is different, depending on which body of water the prevailing weather systems come from. Our one attempt at snorkeling was marred by bad visibility and garbage floating in the water, as well as torrential rain during the boat ride. Rain and storms that probably wouldn’t have bothered us anywhere else were a major disappointment that week.
The endless daylight of an Icelandic summer—this might be a good thing, if you’re only there for a week and trying to cram in as much outdoor activity as possible. But after several months, I found it exhausting and slightly crazy-making. I started going into the bathroom, closing the door, and turning off the light, just so my eyes could rest in a little darkness.
We booked ourselves an extra-long layover in Rome this past April, strategically planning the whole day down to the last detail so that we could make a mad dash to my favorite ancient Jewish bakery, to buy their special pizza Ebraica—it’s one of my very most favorite baked goods on the entire planet. It was Passover—they weren’t baking anything with flour. All they had was coconut macaroons, which just make me feel sad inside. I was more than a little heartbroken. If there’s something very specific that you want to do/see/eat/experience in a place, make sure it’s an option.
Ditto for museums—make sure they’re going to be open. Just this spring, in a two-month period, I managed to miss the following museums, some by a matter of days: the Museum of the Future in Dubai, The National Museum of Iraq, The Grand Egyptian Museum, and the Bardo Museum of Tunisia. How annoyed was I over each of those? Quite.
I once (many years ago now) did a cycling event in France and learned a lesson I’ll never forget: August is holiday month in France. Parisians all decamp to the country or the beach or cooler climes, and many of my favorite bakeries and chocolatiers in the city close for the month. I rode my bicycle several hundred miles on that trip, and after I finished cycling (read: abandoned the insanity), finding out all the best restaurants were closed was deeply disappointing. The city is still full of tourists in August, so there are plenty of perfectly fine restaurants, and by law, there’s always at least one bakery open in every neighborhood, but in Paris, of all places, I want the best, and much prefer September.
Lunar New Year—this is not necessarily a holiday to avoid (we really enjoy the atmosphere), but it’s definitely one to be aware of. Historically (pre-Covid, anyway) it’s the heaviest global travel period of the year. Accommodations in much of Asia can be totally full, and prices go up accordingly. We’ve already booked a (refundable) hotel for the period in 2023, just in case.
We’ve read and heard about burning season in the north of Thailand; thus far we’ve been careful to avoid it. In February and/or March, farmers in the north of Thailand burn off the stubble in their rice fields. Digital nomads and expats who live year round in that part of the country all say it’s awful, and many leave.
By the same token, we have, of course, stumbled into unexpected wonders and opportunities. The Red Bull Air Race was one. An unexpected James Taylor concert in Singapore was another. During our month in Jerusalem, we inadvertently got a trifecta: Holocaust Remembrance Day, Memorial Day, and Independence Day, all interesting and stirring for different reasons. And La Merce, the festival of the patron saint of Barcelona, is a one-of-a-kind epic celebration of culture and community.
There’s no perfect time to go anywhere, really. Besides, if we waited for the time to be right, we might never do anything. So I can’t complain. All I can do is see each experience, each destination, as a moment, a lesson, a memory to fold into my heart.
Take care,
Lisa
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