four minute read

Having spent a good portion of my life struggling to make ends meet, there are many things along the way that I did without. What were the options? For the most part I didn’t mind. I found ways in which to cope. As my career progressed, as I grew older, my life became about chasing dreams. Fortune. Love. Ego. They’ve all played a role in the choices I’ve made. Now that my struggle is less real, I’ve become somewhat spoiled. On my fiftieth birthday I promised myself that my modus would become travel. To see the world and roam wherever I please. Not so much the grand tour of any place but to live for a time, however small, as a quiet anonymous visitor enjoying the perks of escape. My memories of each adventure have a unique flavor and aroma. Each chance encounter is a story all its own. Time spent reading in European cafés and parks, wandering ancient cobblestone streets and markets, the majestic Alpine hills, the vast desert trails, and the glorious ocean. Whether spending time alone or with a treasured friend, most opportunities to run away from ordinary life have been a joyous undertaking. Travel has also been an opportunity for me to daydream about people and place, to imagine where the next adventures might begin. Every date and time of departure on the calendar shepherds me through the occasional days that run from mundane to disastrous. At a certain point you realize that youth is fleeting so waste no time. Knowing adventure awaits makes life my much sweeter.

live with no excuses and travel with no regrets

Mexico is my favorite budget destination. My last visit was heaven. It was a beautiful, bittersweet late winter escape. The sea and sky were perfection. My companion delightful. The hotel splendid and its staff superb. I was treated like a prince within the palace walls. It was indulgent and decadent and though my behavior during this trip could best be described as slothful, the weight of the looming crisis was palpable. My mind was on how to prepare for what was coming next. Though this trip arrived just as a month’s worth of stocking, storing and planning for the inevitable was completed, I could not ignore the concern for how we were to manage if there was no money coming in. Knowing is a spidey sense. For whatever reason, Sarah and I could clearly see that there would be a massive disruption caused by this pandemic. Reuters was reporting on it every day since Christmas, as did DW News and the BBC. I felt in my gut by mid-February that Mexico would likely be my last adventure. For this year anyway. Regardless of what my iCal stated, my charmed life was to be preempted.

Given the gravity of this particular moment, I am well aware that I have way more than so many. That I am fortunate in most things. But this meaningless little essay isn’t about all that. It is about coping skills, and how the function of travel in my life works as an anti-depressant. Like most people, I’m simply trying to get through this pandemic one day at a time. I don’t really mind being here alone or nothing being open. Cancelling plans has always been my heroin. If I like I can cross the street and go into my workshop. Unlike the staggering number of people who have to worry about how they will feed their family, I have it pretty easy. Just sit tight and wait out the storm. Other than to use my credit card to help feed people through the local food banks, I feel like I have no immediate purpose.

I cancelled Miami in May. Miami has become ridiculously cost prohibitive anyway. What had been intended as a half week get-away to spend time with old friends is now just a few more empty days on a calendar. The miss for me isn’t the place, it is the memories I might have made with my friends. Provincetown may still be a possibility this summer. Or it may be a ghost town. The plan was to go for a few days to see my friends, and to scatter Henry and Emily’s ashes off Long Point, where Ricky and Drifter’s ashes were scattered in years gone by. Don’t know if that will be possible. Whatever emotional closure I might be hoping for will likely have to wait. And then there is Iceland.

I did a lot of great things in the past, but I live for today and for the future

Of all the reckless, ridiculous things I’ve done since 2013, the Iceland trip isn’t even close to the top of the list, but it certainly was an impetuous act of insanity that I could enjoy. The problem with the internet on a cold gray morning at five a.m. is that it offers the user any number of options. Having booked a larger party cruise last summer with Vacaya, the opportunity to book a much smaller adventure cruise (only 187 people) to Iceland popped into my email in-box. It appeared too delicious to pass up. “Fuck it” I told myself, then I hit the buy button and smiled. Fact: I was in a funk over the tanking the salon. The thing I created, that I thought I wanted, was slipping away fast. In the course of its demise, it risked taking duross & langel down with it. Worse, the person I had become in those first few salon years was someone I came to loathe. All the energy expended struggling against opposing forces left me desperate and sad and angry. I needed to escape from it all. Burying the bodies in a shallow grave in the basement was not an option. Neither was taking fentanyl. Instead of drifting headlong into another depression, I chose to swallow my disappointment, make peace with the long term financial realities of losing a business, and to cope my way out of an impossible situation by spending retirement money on Iceland. A fantastical and amazing future adventure that has gotten me through some bleak moments.

No regrets about money spent, though Iceland might not happen. If the company does not cancel, and if I were not offered a future voucher, would go ahead and take the trip? Sure if.. Maybe. Given the current climate, who can say? What I do know is that we will adjust. For me, part of that adjustment will be about how to plan future travel. Where to go, how to get there and what types of adventure await? Travel is not over. Not in my imagination anyway. While I am not making any particular plans, I am dreaming. Like Scotland and Mexico, Iceland is now a part of those dreams. So long as I have some beautiful escape from reality on my calendar, I can cope with almost anything. In my imagination, everything is still possible.