Travel Interrupted-Where Next?

I’ve felt stuck in mud these past 18 months, so I’m getting into my walking shoes, out of my apartment and continuing my prance around the world! Where next? New York, New Jersey, Portugal and …?

Last month marked four years living a ‘nomadic’ lifestyle. Over that time period, my Ford F-150 and Jayco Eagle trailer serpentined approximately 10,000 miles through more than half the country. Of the 50 states, only Iowa, The Dakotas and Minnesota remain. Eventually, I’ll get around to planting my feet on those parcels of land.

In addition to my U.S. romp at ground level, various airlines helped me schlep a backpack through 14 countries over three continents in that time period – Australia counting as a ‘two-bagger'. From point to point, about 175,000 miles were logged. I traveled by boat, planes, trains and of course pickup truck with that ‘Eagle’ following closely behind. “Where next?” is the self-inquiry that drives my ambition to wander the globe. 

Despite holing up in an apartment these past few months while the world deals with a pandemic, this mind and heart can’t wait to reclaim a wandering lifestyle.

But first, I digress, reminiscing, while anticipating future travels in a world having difficulty getting out of its own way.

I had just finished a month long, nine country solo scamper around Europe in September, 2019. After a two week stop to visit the kids and grandkiddos on the East Coast, I headed back to Canby, Oregon, my 5th quasi-permanent address over the previous two years.

Upon my return home, the first order of business was to get my Eagle out of storage, drag it to a space and hook up electric, water and sewer lines. Applying some elbow grease made the 240 sq. foot interior livable, again. That’s a full day’s job. 

Once prepped, I affixed nine new country stickers to the upper, stained-glass cabinet doors of my travel trailer in the same way a Boy Scout might iron on or sew a newly earned merit badge. The goal – 50 country stickers in five years. On that day, 17 stickers decorated the cabinet door that covered and secured toilet paper, paper towels and nitrile exam gloves that were used for a variety of maintenance jobs. Those stickers served more than one purpose.

After settling in, the only question this wanderlusting retiree had on his mind was “Where next?”

Seated and relaxing in my trailer’s recliner, I considered an around-the-world tour in which someone else made ‘all’ travel and touristy arrangements. I’d be on the hook to pay exorbitant fees for that kind of excursion, however, I could sit comfortably in a reclining tour bus chair, sip a caramel macchiato and read a travel brochure as the guide whispered our next move over a loudspeaker. Nah, didn’t fit my traveling MO.  

Taking a Mediterranean cruise, single occupancy, penalty included, with multiple ports of call was a thought. However, claustrophobia while riding an unstable, swaying boat wasn’t my idea of a good time, either. There isn’t enough Dramamine on planet earth to quell the nausea that would’ve occurred.

After kicking these nomadic tires and having my doctor check under the hood, evidence was shown that at 67 there was plenty of time and ambition to continue exploration of the world on my terms. Travel confidence was high. 

I’d just lugged two backpacks, one piggy-backing the other, over 100 miles during that solo Euro-trip. The idea of limited hand-holding, without the heavy lifting, wouldn’t be objectionable – you know, someone doing the planning while still giving me a sense of autonomy to explore culture and history in unfamiliar places throughout the world.

There were travel programs that catered to individuals allowed to detach from the umbilical of in-office work obligations and engage in world exploration while still receiving a paycheck. I was fully retired and there was no need to work for pay, but I had to fit in somehow. Travel blogger, perhaps? Perfect! I assumed that that kind of job would meet some company’s criteria. 

In late October, 2019, I responded to a company’s ad, asked a few questions, pondered it for a few days, and then paid the $4250 initial fee to secure a spot on a travel itinerary beginning January 1, 2020. Of course, I chose the 12 month experience. South America, Europe, Asia and Africa were the travel entrees with plenty of side dishes and peripheral points of interest available for a few extra dollars. 

An additional $2000 a month would cover airfare between destinations and lodging. Food, side trips and other amenities were my responsibility. Landing on all seven continents was my ultimate wanderlusting aspiration. By the end of 2020, six of seven would have been rung up. Estimated total cost for this expedition – $40,000. Sounds good. I’m doin’ it! 

I convinced myself that 40K was a reasonable price when considering standard expenditures while in the suburbs – rent, utilities, insurance and normal living expenses. Do the math – not a much of a difference!

Less than two months after returning home from Europe and the East Coast, the trailer had to be prepped for a ‘deep’ sleep this time – at least one year. I spent two full days cleaning, eliminating water in my lines, and strategically placing Damp Rid bags throughout the trailer so mold/mildew wouldn’t take up residency.

Lengthy visits with my East Coast daughters and grandchildren before expeditions abroad had become a ritual since retirement. West Gardiner, Maine was my first stop. My daughter, Andrea, assisted in jumpstarting Nomadmichael.com. We posted pics with captions and travel tips from my September 2019 multi-country ‘swerve’ through Europe. The site gave the appearance of having lived on the internet for awhile – nothing wrong with that. Andrea walked me through all the tasks needed to maintain the site. It was doable and exciting!

Aside from the joy of just hanging out with the kids and grandkiddos… while more than likely overstaying my welcome… geography and time were factors when traveling outside the U.S. Why adjust to a nine hour time difference between Oregon and Europe, when I could spend 10-30 days hanging with family, reducing that adjustment to six hours upon landing in France or wherever. Jet lag minimized! 

There would be no time difference between New York and Santiago, Chile, the first stop on this fresh, inviting itinerary. The first couple of weeks in South America were focused on absorbing the lifestyle, culture, traditions and getting acquainted with my fellow travelers. All of the 22-67 year-olds signing up for this experience dabbled in entrepreneurship or worked for a company willing to let them navigate the world while fingering home row on their laptops. (Have you figured out who was the oldest in the group?)

Considering myself an average writer and wanna-be sports columnist that could have only happened in a parallel universe didn’t dissuade me from putting pen to paper. If nothing else, the result of my efforts would be an archived, high-tech diary available for future reference. Perhaps the words and pics would catch the eye of a few inquisitive wanna-be nomads. It actually caught somewhere in the neighborhood of 5000 pairs of eyes across three continents. That wasn’t bad for doing zero promoting or advertising.

Imagine a world in which your best day includes beachside dining on a cliff overlooking the Pacific Ocean in Lima’s Larcomar Mall. Your lime-drenched ceviche takes a back seat to a breath-taking sunset view. You take several pictures as the sun descends into the Pacific Ocean. Within five minutes multiple pictures and a caption appear on the site. Yeah, that was the job invented just for me. 

Pics and captions of Chile, Peru, Colombia, Paraguay, and Argentina made the cut on my blog. The latter two destinations were solo side trips I took on my own dime. That was one of the intriguing features of this journey – doing my own thing on my own clock. A month long stay at each stop gave me plenty of time to scour neighboring countries. Pics and captions were posted at least three times a week.

We were approximately two weeks into our Medellin, Colombia stay, and I was just a couple of days from boarding a plane to see family in Brazil when the World Health Organization declared a global pandemic. That was March 11, 2020, only a bit over two months into this anticipated year-long journey.

Less that two weeks in to our Medellin stay, most of us packed our bags right after The Who announcement of the global pandemic. Several people decided to stay in Colombia, and some left in October, 2020.

At 3:00 am on the 12th, I was on the phone and internet planning my escape from a place I didn’t want to get stuck if matters went from bad to worse. It was the beginning of ‘travel interrupted’. We were all certain that this was going to be a long term problem, and that we might not see each other again.

30 hours later, I boarded a plane to Ft. Lauderdale, hopped a connecting flight to Atlanta and finally made my way to Portland, OR. Including myself, only a handful of people were masked up on each flight. The unmasked guy across from me in the back of the ATL to PDX flight coughed the entire time. His face beet-red, I thought he was going to die on the spot and infect the rest of us with whatever he was projecting into the main cabin. I went into full-blown teacher mode – firmly reminding him more than once to cover his coughs. 

Despite flight delays and some chaotic moments at airports, it took 19 hours to get home from Medellin. Fortunately, my Global Entry pass put me in the fast lane when returning to the states. Otherwise, I would’ve missed that flight to Atlanta. 

Exhausted and a bit disoriented upon arriving in Portland, I found lodging at an abandoned motel in Wilsonville, a town located about 15 miles south of the big city. The next several days were spent getting everything out of storage and setting up the trailer once again. Beginning in Canby, the Eagle became my lifeboat for the next nine months. The Siletz River and Lincoln City, both located on the Oregon Coast, were summer and fall landing spots. 

I did my best Hemingway impersonation – fishing, reading, & working on my teaching memoirs for several months. I’m not sure there’s a Ron Chernow book left for me to read. Alone but not too lonely, from a distance I made a few new friends. Conservatives. Liberals. Independents. It didn’t matter. With so much uncertainty at the time, somehow we managed to support one another when it came to troubleshooting trailers and baiting a hook. 

Until the foul weather showed up, my Eagle proved to be a solid choice for shelter on the coast. It was early December when I decided to store the trailer and resume life at my old apartment complex. The trailer was sold this summer to a nice couple who were planning to travel throughout Oregon. My only regret – should’ve kept it for one more fall fishing season.

November arrived, along with the foul weather that always pounds the coastline. Once again, it was time to store the Eagle and re-acclimate to more suitable living conditions. So it was back to Beaverton, OR, a place I’d lived for nearly 30 years. It’s not where I wanted to be, however, my sister, Natasha and daughter, Michaela, were within range, and we occasionally hung out at a safe distance.

Feeling like apocalyptic times, there was no escaping the smoke on the Oregon Coast in September, 2020.

Had this pandemic not interrupted my world travels, at least 15-20 additional countries would have been visited by the end of 2020, and Antarctica would have been the lone continent unexplored. A two week ice-busting trip would have notched that one as well. Disappointed? That is an understatement. 

It’s October, 2021, and after 18 months of travel dormancy and riding undeserving emotional ebbs and flows, I’ve booked a flight to Portugal – Lisbon, Porto, Lagos and Faro, all on the menu. To prepare for this short trip, I received my booster, giving me an added sense of safety. A small suitcase, new walking shoes and my blog reboot have been added to my ‘to do’ list. The large Osprey backpack is staying home.

Once again, I’ll make my traditional layover on the East Coast and hang with family for a few days. Seeing most of the kids, grandkids, and in-laws is the highlight of any trip. It is my ‘rest stop’ of choice regardless of where I’m wandering to in an easterly direction.

Technically, it could be argued that my nomadic lifestyle ended when I decided to ditch the truck for a Hyundai Santa Fe and the trailer for an over-sized one bedroom apartment in the burbs. My aspirations and attachment to a nomadic lifestyle don’t hinge on where I physically stand at this moment. I am self-actualized at this juncture of my life and know that wanderlusting is a matter of movement and geography… delays or unintended stagnation in time and place notwithstanding.  “Where next?” is what keeps me constantly on the move.