The age-old cliche of travel is that it is broadening. Yet it's true. And the year's end seems an appropriate time to review what I've learned in almost five decades of roaming the earth. Among the lessons I have come to know over the years:
- Paradise isn't a quick airplane hop away, so ignore the travel ads claiming they will transport you there. There's no such place, at least on earth. Once you accept this, your chances for being disappointed on a trip are greatly reduced. Right now, an escape to a warm Caribbean beach might seem paradisiacal, but you have to be realistic. This is the busy season in the Caribbean, so you are apt to be hassled by long waiting lines and overworked airline clerks and hotel receptionists, and maybe the only room available when you arrive won't have a view. These things happen - even at the very best of places - and no amount of advance planning can prevent them. At the same time, some of the prettiest islands are struggling economically, so away from the comfort of your resort lodgings you may be confronted by extreme poverty. They are hardly a paradise, if everyone doesn't share in the good times, no matter how pleasant the beaches.- No place is completely dull. It's only bored travelers who sometimes are dull. My goal, wherever I go, is to find something interesting to see or do. The alternative would be to mope in my hotel room until I can catch the next flight out. To be sure, some destinations are a challenge. A few years back I found myself faced with a long winter weekend afternoon in downtown Wilmington, Del. Almost everything was closed, and the streets were empty. How was I going to entertain myself profitably? By luck, I found a copy of a local guidebook describing the city's unusually large array of outdoor statuary. With it in hand, I spent several enjoyable hours on a walking tour examining statuary of all sorts: classical, historical, abstract and whimsical. And when I left Wilmington, it was with a favorable memory.
- The world is not as dangerous as you might believe. Over the years, I've visited about 90 foreign countries and all 50 states. The worst thing that has ever happened to me occurred in Florence, Italy, 22 years ago when a woman fortune teller spit in my ear after I refused to let her read my palm. If this was a curse, I'm unaware of any bad repercussions. Sure, there are dangerous places, such as Bosnia, where war is being waged, or Iraq, where the government is unfriendly to Americans. But with reasonable caution, you can travel through most of the world quite safely - even as an independent traveler staying in modest, out-of-the-way lodgings. As I was reminded in Fiji earlier this year, people of other cultures are much more likely to be curious about you and delighted you have shown an interest in them than to be a threat.
- People are friendly everywhere. For the umpteenth time, I read comments recently in a syndicated column chastising New Yorkers for being rude. My association with New York is only as a frequent visitor, but my experience is that New Yorkers on the whole are quite friendly and helpful. Actually, if you pay attention on the streets or in shops and cafes, you will hear an easygoing banter among Manhattanites. They have to get along for the sheer sake of survival, because there are so many of them. Parisians reputedly are rude, but you can't prove it by me. Brazilians, Italians and other Latins have no patience with waiting in lines, and usually they will push forward at airline ticket counters, the post office and the bank. Americans invariably are annoyed and get huffy. But this isn't rudeness; it's a way of life, and visitors are welcome to shove with the locals. I learned to do so when I lived for most of a year in Santiago, Chile, or I would have been waiting in line yet.
- Travel is educational. If you are receptive to new experiences, you can learn a lot away from home that will enhance your life. My wife and I credit a strong interest in Southwestern pottery, which we collect, to our visits one summer to several Indian pueblos in New Mexico. On a trip to New Orleans one spring, we took a drive north through Louisiana's Cajun Country around Lafayette, and we found our way one evening to a Cajun dance hall. In no time at all, the high-spirited Cajun tunes lured us onto the dance floor, and we two-stepped around the room until the band signed off for the night. Since then, we have acquired a collection of Cajun compact disks, and we are familiar with many of the leading artists. And whenever we return to New Orleans, we always try to go Cajun dancing in the dance halls near the French Quarter. At home, we often whip up Cajun-style dishes for dinner.
- News reports become much more relevant. I'm an avid newspaper reader, but I confess the complexities of the war in Bosnia eluded me until I visited neighboring Croatia this year. Being on the spot prompted me to make the extra effort to sort out the main elements in the dispute - if only to protect myself from a diplomatic blunder while talking to the Croatians I met. Similarly, much of the Third World lives in poverty and despair, which a traveler to these countries cannot help but witness. So it is no wonder many people try to come to the United States, legally or illegally. I'm not going to argue the issue here of denying social benefits to illegal immigrants. But as a traveler who has met some of these immigrants abroad, I can make a plea that they be treated not as criminals but as unfortunate individuals in a desperate search for a better life.
- You become more tolerant. At least, I hope so. When I first began traveling in earnest, I found myself in a small Peruvian Indian village. I, a white, red-haired American student, was the only non-Indian in town, and everyone stared at me. Initially I was frightened, and I was tempted to hide out in my very modest hotel room until I could catch the next bus south to Lima in two days. But then I spotted a soccer game in progress, and I joined the crowd of spectators, who made room for me. Before the match was over, at least a dozen men had introduced themselves and their families to me, and I was welcomed as a friend. Of course, I speak Spanish, which helped. Since then, I don't think I've ever been similarly intimidated by another culture, and there is no reason to be. Two or three of the villagers whom I had come to know were on the bus when I departed, and from them I learned the near-universal delight - whatever culture - in a good practical joke.
In those days, the bus to Lima was forced to stop frequently for police security checks. As the only non-Peruvian aboard, I sometimes was questioned at length, delaying the bus and all its passengers. At one post, the guards requested I step into their office. As I did so, the bus suddenly pulled away and disappeared around a bend in the highway. I stood there bewildered and angry. My luggage was gone. And then, the bus reappeared, backing slowly my way. My village friends and everybody else on the bus were hanging from the windows, laughing and shouting gleefully. What a joke they had played. I think I took it in the good spirits in which it was intended.
- History and geography texts come alive. In the three decades I've lived in the Washington area, I have visited all the Civil War battlefield parks in the neighboring states. This first-hand knowledge of the battle sites makes any account of the war more exciting. At Petersburg National Battlefield in Virginia, I came to appreciate the courage of both armies as I stood on earthworks dug by Confederate troops. Just across a small meadow, barely a stone's throw away, rested a Union cannon pointed directly at me. Would I have had the courage to hold the line? I asked myself, and couldn't answer.
I pride myself on a knowledge of the globe, but I really never could keep the various South Pacific island groups straight in my mental map; that is, until I had to chance to visit Fiji. And then everything began falling into place. My wife reminds me that novels, set in a locale where you have visited, often have more meaning. In a romance about Venice she has just finished, she could easily follow the characters as they strolled about the city - as we did in April.
- You never forget a place you have visited. Not really, if you have stayed more than a day or two. Curiously, I frequently find myself more interested in reading about a destination I know well rather than one I've never seen. I'm eager to find out if the writer shares my views of it, and I always want to learn what has changed, and what hasn't. The memory of places I enjoy become a part of my life, and I keep a watchful eye on them through the years as I do family and friends. Pleasant memories, by the way, are the best souvenir of a trip. They only improve with age.
- You are never at a loss for words. Now that so many people are traveling, almost everybody has a travel story to tell, and is happy to tell it. When cocktail-party conversation falters, ask about upcoming vacation plans. This tactic has never failed me. Travel is a neutral subject, but one in which almost everybody is interested and has an opinion to offer. It sure beats dwelling on the weather or sports.