I miss that. Really. Certainly not always, but along with the
deer-in-the-headlights look of new travelers there’s an energy and
openness to the world they are finally discovering. It can be
refreshing in comparison to the typical boorish 20-country lists of
experienced, jaded nomads.
For this issue of the magazine, once again part of our staff came out
from Los Angeles to Venice, Italy for production. Seems the Stateside
staff think their creative juices flow better when they’re working in a
17th-century palazzo on the Grand Canal. What’s wrong with downtown
L.A. guys? For one of the crew, however, it was his first time abroad.
The rest of us got a kick out of watching him stumble his way to
discovery, with a few pointers now and then—like it’s definitely not
recommended to swim in the canals.
He discovered the joys of Nutella, and also that it’s not a good idea
to eat half a jar in one sitting. He took off for his first solo train
trip, tried to see the Verona opera wearing a baseball hat, and almost
left his passport as a gift to the hostel. But hearing him breathlessly
recount the late night spent debating culture and language and politics
at the hostel, I fondly remembered how my own worldview changed through
similar international BS sessions around scattered backpacks and bunk
beds.
He ran the whole gamut of travel experiences. Some young, clueless
Italians showed him the nasty but real side of cultures colliding when
they berated him for being an American because of the war in Iraq. With
some practice, though, he had his grazie and prego down pat, and
finally figured out he could say ciao for hello or good-bye. In true
travel misadventure mode, he ended up locking his roommates out of
their apartment all night. But by the end of the trip he was tossing
out ideas for trips to Paris and hopping over to Slovenia for a day or
two.
Welcome to another convert. Care to join us?
Jeff
