Have Travel Anxiety – will travel

What is happening to me?

In 2019 as I prepared to go to yet another European adventure I was confident in my travel prep. I had my lists (yes plural), I had my research done, I was ready. Nothing in the world would stop me from stepping on to that plane and flying off to Denmark.

Every year as I prepared for my “big trip” was the same. We’d decide where we were going. Book it and then wait a bit, then start the discussion, the research, and the excitement of travel. It never failed me. I was always, ALWAYs excited about travel. Rarely did I stop to think of the risks. And as a lifelong project manager that isn’t normal. Plan B’s are my middle name. But in 2019 and before, they never crossed my mind.

Enter post Covid travel.

When Covid happened, all travel stopped. I got comfortable at home. The thought of travel was so far in the future that I let it drift away. I no longer focused on “the next”, because I wasn’t sure when/if there would be a next.

As the time to depart for this trip, one we purchased in 2019, one we’ve talked about for years, one my parents wanted to take, one that would be seeing my at my alma mater again, I find myself anxious about traveling.

So, what has me so anxious?

First and foremost is my ability TO do it. Covid had me getting more and more out of shape. I put on some of the weight I lost pre-Covid. I started cooking more. I was home ALL…the…time. No gyms in sight. And so, I’m not overly confident of just how much I’ll be able to do without injury or exhaustion. Friends that I have spoken to about this have all said, “do what you can. Don’t fret.” And I’m trying. I really am trying to get to the not fretting part.

But here’s the thing, I HATE missing out. I know that I will hate myself if I can’t do something I really want to do. What if I can’t walk another block to see that 16^th century church and I miss seeing some really cool fresco or something? This is real to me. This is me getting anxious and then pissed.

I am not delusional. I know I put myself in this position and I know that I will, most likely, be fine. But still I fret.

The second thing making my anxiety flair is Covid and what if I test positive on the trip? I have paid too much and waited too long for a stupid virus to stop me from doing this trip. But there’s a real possibility that I can test positive. I mean, I’m going to be on an airplane with a couple hundred other people breathing the same air. Then on a very small boat with another hundred or so. The chance is higher.

Don’t get me wrong, it’s not the getting sick part, it’s the missing out part (are you seeing a theme here?). We have to test 24 hours before we leave. We have to test every day on the boat. And we have to test before we come home. I’m vaccinated. Boosted too. But there’s still a chance. I like my odds, but we know that this virus is cunning.

If you test positive, you quarantine.

That’s the problem. Quarantine! That means in your room, not out on the sun deck or walking the street of a medieval village. It means room service, not dining with other passengers watching the view of the Rhine River go by. It means not going to that monastery winery, or that thousand-year-old castle. That means you get food delivered and have limited TV to entertain you and you miss out on all the fun things you’ve waited to see. I hate that.

And what if I test positive in Basel before we even get on the ship? We lose the entire trip!

What if I test positive in Amsterdam before we come home? That means spending more $$ for a hotel for 10 days without working. Ugh.

You see? The What if’s are endless. And the more I think about them, the more anxious I get.

A friend recently said to me as I was ranting about this “covid thing” that sometimes what you put out in the universe you get. You do realize that I’m just quirky enough to believe this, right? I have witnessed this thing we call karma, so she suggested that I start focusing on the trip and really dig into the research so my mind is more about all the beautiful things we’re going to experience. Put the positive out there. Believe that it will all be ok.

She clearly doesn’t know me as well as she should. Pessimism is my middle name. I find the negative. Always have. Maybe this is a chance to find the positive?

I also believe that if you plan for something it won’t happen. It’s the very reason I’m debating bringing my work computer with me. I mean, if I get stuck in Amsterdam because of Covid at least I can work. Is that planning or telling the universe Covid is ok? I just don’t know.

The Travel Bug has bit me

This 18 year old girl thought herself a world traveler. She'd experienced parts of Switzerland, Germany, Italy, Spain and Saudi Arabia. She thought she had seen it all. Little did she know she hadn't even seen the tip of the iceberg. What she had seen was one small drop in a VERY large bucket of water. 

She was so very grateful for what her parents had given her. An opportunity she knew not many got. She didn't have a clue that the little taste of travel she had experienced would never leave. It was embedded as part of her soul. It would become part of who she was. It would define her in ways she wouldn't be able to conceive at 18. 

Travel writer Pico Iyer once said, "Travel is like love, in the end, mostly because it's a heightened state of awareness, in which we are mindful, receptive, undimmed by familiarity and ready to be transformed. That is why the best trips, like the best love affairs, never really end."

She had, without a doubt, the travel bug. It sat dormant for many years (mostly due to finances). Then when it worked it's way to the surface, it was too late. She was now fully addicted. The bug would not leave her. She and the bug were one. I didn't mean that to sound as gross as it does.)

And how do I know I have the travel bug?

For starters, I just do. But since you asked nicely, I know because travel is on the forefront of my mind almost always. If I am not thinking about where I've been, I'm thinking about where I'm going. Googling a country or a ship or an airline rate. It's always there. 

While on a trip I try to absorb as much as I can. Because I know it'll make me want to travel more, see more, do more, eat more. And 100% of the time, I'm planning my next adventure while on an adventure. 

I have a bucket list. The flu has symptoms. A bucket list is a symptom of the travel bug. It's a fact. The bucket list changes on a regular basis, and once I've checked something off, inevitably that trip has added another two or three things/places to see.

I have a suitcase just to hold all my travel stuff. That's right, a travel bag. For years I would tote this stuff around and stash it here and there. Then on one trip someone suggested getting a rolly bag and putting all my travel stuff in it. Wow. Having it all in one spot is really the best. I'd say I have an documented inventory of what's in it too, but that's a little over the top, right? Right? Cuz I totally don't have that. Nope - not little Miss Organized. 

Speaking of the inventory I don't have, I also don't have a complete OneNote file of travel checklists, Activity log, Journey Details (plane info, train info etc), accommodation tracker, research tracker etc. Nope. A person who didn't have the travel bug would most definitely NOT have those items. 

My passport is sacred. It is one of my possessions that I treasure beyond all. It gets me places. 

And finally, my heart lives in other places. I swear each new place I visit it feels like home. And something about it stays with me. It becomes a part of me and story. 

Dad introduced me to travel. From the moment he mentioned moving to Saudi Arabia and all the cool things that came with that, until the day he no longer knew who he was, let alone me, he talked about travel. "Travel," he'd say, "is humbling. It shows you so much more than you can imagine." He'd continue on about enlightenment, and experiencing new cultures, and would always end with discussing the food. Loving local food is definitely one thing he passed on to me. 

But without fail, every single trip I have a short conversation with Dad in my head. I tell him about where I'm going and what I'm going to see. I end that conversation with thanking him for what he's given me...this drive to see the world. 

Travel is above all an education. It's not always about the history either, there's more deep stuff that I've learned:

1. The biggest is that America is NOT the center of the universe. I hate that when we travel so many areas lump all American travelers in to that "ugly American" category. I've seen those ugly American types and I just roll my eyes at the entitlement.  
2. 
   It's very humbling to see the world and see all the history that has come long before the US. I have stood in awe when I'm in a cathedral that's been around since the 14th century - or earlier. I remember standing in the Roman coliseum being amazed that it was still standing and thinking about how many thousands - millions of people have witnessed and stood where I was.
3. Try new things. Not just food, but experiences. 
4. Appreciate different cultures. So many interesting cultures in the world. Some are similar to us Americans, but all of them are different enough that there is room to learn and experience. 
5. Be the tourist. I LOVE the touristy stuff. We usually have such a short time in one spot, that sometimes the touristy stuff is what I've come there for. 
6. Pack your patience. I am not a patient person so this one is hard. But I embrace it when I'm literally in the act of traveling (i.e. in the airport). Traveling is exhausting and full of stress. I find myself very balanced and calm when I'm at the airport. And that leads to being patient. Plus, I can't actually control 99% of what's going on around me, so why not control that 1% I can?
7. Never stop learning! So much to learn. Read, and then read some more. Educate yourself about where you're going and what you'll be seeing. It makes you a better, brighter, more "in the know" person. I loath the traveler who is there for the selfie, but doesn't understand the importance or historical nature of what they're witnessing. "Loath" might be a little harsh, but you get my drift. 
8.  Making short term friends. It's true. When you travel, especially on a cruise or the preplanned trips we've done, you get to know the people around you. You learn a little about their lives. You know you have a common theme of travel to talk about. You step off the boat and head back to your lives. You may not ever see these people again, but they were part of your trip and your experience. If you're lucky, you make some that stick. I have several FB friends that I still keep in touch with after I met them on a trip. 

I know this travel bug is going to stay with me forever. I have it bad. It's part of what defines me now. And as some wise person once said, "Once the travel bug bites there is no known antidote. And I know that I shall be happily infected until the end of my life."

All Day Cooking...it's my fave!

Today is Sunday, the second Sunday of the month at that. If you pay attention, or have been lucky enough to earn an invite to, today is Sunday dinner! 

Sunday dinners started in 2010! I cannot believe what started as a way for me to see my friends more often has turned into a monthly event that includes traveling Sunday Dinners. It started with just a handful of friends, then grew from there. I kept adding people to the list. 

Sunday dinner started with me cooking, and only me. I wouldn't let anyone bring anything. Each dinner was a well planned meal in which everything "went" together. I loved doing this. I loved spending the day cooking and preparing something delicious that I knew everyone would enjoy. 

The first Sunday dinner menu was Spaghetti Bolognese, olive cheese bread, Caesar salad, and dipped brownie bites. It takes a day to cook and it's worth every minute. The kitchen was an absolute disaster after, but it was worth every bit of it. 

I'll admit that at the time I figured I'd do a handful of these and then get bored with it and move on. Turned out everyone loved it. Each person I invited commented how nice it was and felt very old fashion. And could we keep doing this? Who am I to disappoint my friends? 

As the years progressed, I was convinced to let others bring something. I'd cook the main "meat" and then everyone signed up for an appetizer, salad, side, and dessert. Most brought wine along with whatever they brought. 

This got to be more fun and allowed everyone to contribute to the meal. Some were feeling guilty that I was taking the brunt of the cost - which I didn't mind. Most bring something they've not made before. Some get into ruts and bring the same thing every time. What I learned is, it's ok. Whatever. I learned to chill out about it. 

This year for Sunday dinners, I decided to mix it up some. At the December Sunday dinner I had everyone put themes into a bowl and then we selected 10 out of it (10 because we'd not have one in May, and we already knew the Low Country Boil was planned for July). The group got creative. They could put in as many or as few that they want. 

The result was a list of pretty darn good themes. We started the year with a fondue party. Learned that if you're doing fondue, that you should use oil and you should have extras to eat cuz it takes so long to cook the meat. The cheese and chocolate was the highlight by far. 

Indian was a fun one. Most of the group hadn't every cooked Indian food. I made Butter Chicken which is my favorite thing ever in Indian food. 

The favorite appetizer/dessert/cocktail/wine was an interesting one. Since it was all appetizers, we were "done" with Sunday dinner by about 6:30. Full of food and happy as ever. 

Tonight is French. We'll see what everyone brings. For me? I couldn't decide what to make so I'm making Coq au Vin and Beef Bourguignon! This house smells amazing! What's interesting about these two recipes, they both have a lot of the same ingredients: bacon, wine, chicken stock, mushrooms, onions, thyme. Biggest difference is coq au vin has one more aromatic - celery. I've got the beef cooking away in the slow cooker and coq au vin in the Dutch oven in the oven on a low heat. We're going to have more food than you can imagine, but that's what being a Wraspir is all about. 

When covid hit we had to put a stop to the dinner. Or did we? No, we did not! We did zoom dinners and it was great to continue to stay connected to these people. It was odd at first, but by mid 2020 we were in the grove and spoke frequently about how we couldn't wait to get back together again. 

The other thing that has come out of these Sunday dinners are the group photos. I can't remember why I started doing it (I mean, it was probably because of scrapbooking) it just started. We'd all gather around and SNAP a photo. Then one night I had everyone do a goofy face. Now we hardly ever take a "normal" shot. Only the goofy will do. 

But beyond the food and the photo what I love the most are the people. The attendees vary a little month over month. I average about 10 people each dinner (it used to be 12 before I moved) and all those people I love. I consider them all family. I know, without a doubt, that any of them would be at my side with a hug, a meal, a smile or money. They're just amazing people and I'm so glad to call them all family. I'm not sure they realize their family. And I didn't really ask them if they wanted to be in my family, but I also don't care. Too bad! You're in! 

High school was so long ago

I've been out of high school for (gosh let me get the calculator) 35 years this year. THIRTY FIVE years! Poof. Gone. Just like that. I am having a hard time even fathoming that. It's been like, well, a lifetime. 

I think most of us occasionally remember our time in high school. Whether you enjoyed high school or not, it likely influenced you in some way or shape. 

You might be lucky enough to still have friends from high school. I do. And thanks to the advent of social media, I've been able to really stay in touch and see their lives unfold. 

My high school adventure was different than most my friends. I went to 4 different schools for high school. Having to make new friends every time we moved was something I was used to. I mean, that’s how we grew up as military brats.

Let’s start at the very beginning. 9^th grade.

Antelope Valley High School

I started high school at Antelope Valley HS in Lancaster, California. Most my friends were going to AVHS too being that we were all in Jr. High together. High school didn’t feel any different to me than jr. high did. We still had studies. We still had to change classes at the bell. We still had homework, etc.

The one big difference for me was I joined the rifle team as part of the marching band.  Technically, I joined the banner squad first, but quickly realized those girls were not my cup of tea. I happened upon the rifle team one afternoon and asked if I could learn. They were a small group of 4 and were happy to show me the ropes. I picked up a rifle, learned a few things and never looked back.  

My time at AV was dominated by band, field shows, and friends that were in band. I still had a ton of friends from the church went to AV too. They were all in the band as well. My only real memories of 9th grade is band. Band. And more band. 

That's me on the far right NOT looking at the camera

That's me on the far right. I'm looking to make sure I'm in line with everyone else.

Quartz Hill High School

Towards the end of 9th grade, we moved across town. That put me in another school district. So 10th grade I went to Quartz Hill HS - the rival HS to AV. 

Rifles were, by now, a passion of mine. And I was good. I had spent hours practicing and improving. I had more confidence than I probably should have it seemed because I reached out to the band director and asked if I could try out of captain of their rifle team. The balls! 

Captain Jenn

I tried out and got it. In fact, every time I hear "I Tumble for Ya" from Culture Club I'm reminded of my brazen spirit because that's the song I tried out to. 

QHHS was also all about band. I had a HUGE crush on a guy in the band - I mean first love kind of crush, but that's another story for another time. 

As the captain of the rifles, I had a squad of very talented women. I struggled with allowing them to help create our routines at first, but then realized they had good ideas and could make us better. My first lesson of leadership was "you don't know everything". 

The rifle squad

In my 10th grade year Boeing transferred my Dad to Seattle. That meant a new school. So in March of 1985 I said goodbye to all my friends in Lancaster, to my church, and to my beloved rifles. 

Redmond High School

We landed in Redmond, WA and for part of my 10th grade and part of my 11th grade I went to Redmond High School - Home of the Mustangs. Coincidence? I think not.  

Redmond HS didn't have a rifle team. They barely had a band. So I made the decision to get involved in volleyball. I had spent enough summers at the family farm in Eastern Wa where Blueberry and I became BFFs. She was in volleyball and loved it, so I figured I'd give it a shot. 

I have zero friends from Redmond that I speak with today. I was there for such a short time that I doubt anyone there remembers me. I remember a few of them on occasion and wonder what happened to them. I had a crush there too and I wonder what happened to him. 

Redmond High was such a drop in the bucket of time. I spent only 5 months there between the end of my sophomore year and beginning of the junior year. I have zero pictures of that time in my life at school. 

The American School in Switzerland

Then the BIG move. In the early fall of 1985 Dad and Mom announced that they were going to spend some time in Riyadh Saudi Arabia with the Boeing Co. I had a decision to make. 

Boeing would cover the cost of a boarding school in a couple of different locations. I could pick one, apply and go there. OR I could stay in Washington and live with my older brother and finish up my high school here.  

We all know what decision I made. It wasn't hard. What was hard was fretting about whether I'd actually get accepted into the boarding school. My grades weren't the best and these were highly esteemed schools that required serious, studious types. Or so I thought. 

I had four options for schools. I could go to a boarding school in Mallorca Spain. Intriguing and was on the top of the list for a little bit. The next option was TASIS Cyprus or UK. Cyprus wasn't interesting to me at all, but the UK was. Then the option of TASIS Switzerland in Lugano. There was something about the campus photos in the brochure that pulled me in. And I thought Switzerland was more central and maybe I could see more of the world by being "landlocked" like that. 

I applied and we waited with bated breath to see if I got in. I wasn't so convinced I would and so living with the oldest brother was going to be plan b. 

We received acceptance in about October of 1985 and the plan was on. Now we had to figure out the logistics. I'd be starting TASIS mid-year in January 1986. The school started it's second semester in St. Moritz for 2 weeks of school in the morning and skiing in the afternoon. I know, rough life. 

This was actually more difficult than you think. I was MOVING to school. And starting the first two weeks not at the school and rooming with girls who weren't going to be my actual roommates was difficult. I mean, not that difficult, but it was nerve wracking. 

I was fortunate that my roommates for those weeks at St. Moritz were amazing. They were my first friends. A couple of them took me under their wings and showed me the ropes. 

What was most amazing about TASIS were the class sizes. Each class had less than 10 students. Most of my classes had 5-7 students. Think about that for a moment. One teacher to 5 kids. That meant you HAD to do the work. You couldn't hide behind the 30 other students in your class. It also meant you got to know your classmates really quickly and the teachers interacted with you on a regular basis. 

My classes were typical high school classes. English, math, science, and history. History became my favorite. It was European history. Not US history. It felt so much more real than US history every did for me. I clung to it and soaked up everything I could. And got to visit some areas that we studied about - which most students in the US don't have that option. 

Once back at the TASIS campus, I was assigned to the dorm Belvedere. I had three other roommates who struggled to find ANY room in their closets or shelves for me. These three ladies were "popular" and I was not. We got along just fine, but I would never be part of their world. I was fine with that. I decorated the wall under next to my bottom bed of the bunk bed with my Duran Duran posters and some Christian Rock groups I was in to. I had a dresser out in the hallway and a small desk to do homework and write letters on. I shared a bathroom with 10 girls. One bathroom. One shower. Ten teenage girls. Yah, good times. 

Belvedere Dorm

The lower bunk I shared with Duran Duran.

My little drawers and desk.

Classes at TASIS were extraordinary. Some classes were in "rooms" like you'd expect a class to be in. Other classes were in the "salons" of some of the large mansions that were converted to dorms. My history class was in the "salon" of Belvedere. We sat at a LARGE wooden table to learn. My English class was in a "large bedroom" of another mansion/dorm (Hadsall). My science class was in an actual lab - which was new and different to me. And in each case there were just a handful of us in the class. I think my Biology class was the largest at 7. 

I wasn't the greatest student in public schools in the states, but I was getting by with little studying. I was a solid B student. At TASIS, my first quarter my GPA dropped an entire point. I was called into the counselor's office to discuss my GPA. Turns out, I had to actually study at this school. It was very focused on education and I hadn't realized that immediately. 

TASIS changed me in so many ways. It added culture to my life. I got to travel and see the world. I got to visit historical landmarks that changed the course of the world (WWII for example). I met and socialized with kids from all walks of life from all over the world. We had our "Boeing" group who's parents lived in Saudi and while we all had folks in a foreign country, we were all very different individuals. 

The Saudi group

My senior year at TASIS I decided to apply to be a prefect. I was stunned when I was chosen and thrilled to be a part of a somewhat elite group of people. 

Photo of a photo in my year book

I was assigned Upper DaNobli along with three other Prefects. The dorm floor we "managed" were sophomore girls. Being a prefect meant we didn't have weekend or week night check ins, we had a hot plate and fridge in our room, we didn't have a "lights out" time, we didn't have the strict rules other students had in general. 

Our room for the prefects was small, but fit us perfectly. I had a bed that was under the slant in the room. I had a nice little corner in the middle of the room. We had our own bathroom as well - which was nice but also a single bathroom for 4 teenage girls! 

TASIS taught me independence. My parents raised me to be independent and prepared me of this type of adventure. I was home sick for sure. I missed all my friends - definitely. I wouldn't know then just how much TASIS would be a part of my life. 

It taught me about tolerance. So many different cultures under one roof. So many different economical levels. There were the "rich" kids who's parents paid for them to be there. And then there was us Boeing kids who's parent's Company paid for us to be there.

It taught me about hard work and the pride of a job well done. It was a rough beginning for me academically. But because most kids were there to study, it made it easy to be a studious type. Don't get me wrong, I was never an A student. I kept my solid B reputation all through high school. And, truthfully there were some C's and D's (math - blech). 

It showed me the world. Because of living in a foreign country, I learned that traveling was something that would be a part of my life, some day. I wasn't naïve to think I'd immediately begin traveling. No, I knew that I'd have to work my way up to being able to afford to travel. But the travel bug had lodged itself firmly in my soul and there would be no going back. I thank my parents for this on a regular basis. 

So as I prepare for this trip to visit TASIS again, I am having fun reminiscing of the years I spent there. Remembering the friends - some who have left us already. Remembering the living on campus. Remembering the structure, the rules, the way of life. Remembering the food. All of it. It's coming back in waves and I'm taking this opportunity to write it all down. 

Over the next couple of weeks I'm going to continue this walk down memory lane and talk more about travel while at TASIS. All the places I got to visit before I was 18 years old. So fortunate. So thankful.