A “Perfect” Proliferation. A Rant
I, an Imperfect Person, Have Something to Say about the Word "Perfect:
Stories About The Occasional Non-lament(able) Post
Trip Report
Spain and London
I’m still decompressing from our 18-day trip to Spain and London, but I wanted to provide this brief trip report of mosques, museums, and some general impressions.
I don’t know why this trip took so much out of me, but it did. The laundry’s done. I’m mostly over jet lag, and the houseplants have forgiven me for abandoning them. All but one survived, and the rest have revived. So, why haven’t I?
How I feel on post-trip laundry day!
I’m still lagging and dragging. Still have swollen feet. And I’m still wishing for room service and somebody to make my bed every morning. Most of all, I’m still yearning to go to the theater every night as I did in London.
Oh, well. Back to reality!
Trip Report
The vacation was lovely, but a lot. Spain was hotter than Hades, and the tourist crowds swarmed like salmon going upstream. (Yes, I know. I was one of the pack.)
When I was little, world travel was something for the rich, the elite. Except for a few Caribbean casino-based trips, fueled by my gambling father’s gambling bug, my parents never traveled abroad. When my mother’s swanky Park Avenue friends bragged about trips to Paris or Rome, she pointed proudly to my siblings’ and my college and graduate school diplomas, all extravagantly framed on the walls.
Today, travel and tourism are for the masses. The result: Overtourism is a problem, and multiple international destinations are pushing back.
The Rain in Spain was … Squirt Guns!
In Barcelona, citizens recently marched with squirt guns. In Genoa, angry activists rolled suitcases along the streets and blocked tour buses. And in jam-packed Venice, officials now charge the hordes of day trippers a 5- or 10-euro daily fee.
Still, for all the congestion, the historic sights and sites remain irresistible.
We spent the bulk of our time in southern Spain. There we learned about the history of the Iberian Peninsula and the Muslim conquest in the 8th Century, which lasted until the Catholics conquered the region centuries later. One symbol of that transition of power and religion is the Mosque-Cathedral of Cordoba, once a mosque for thousands, now a working cathedral and historic site.
The demand to see this and other attractions is so enormous that authorities limit the number of tickets. To enter, you must show your passport. This is not a security measure, but is designed to prevent ticket scams and prove that you are the true ticket purchaser.
Modern Day Conquistadors
Yes, ironically, we noisy tourists are the modern-day invaders, bearing not weapons but sunscreen, fanny packs, and trash.
As a result of our invasion, housing costs for locals have skyrocketed. Foreigners have taken over rentals. Police and health care costs have increased. Yes, we’re good for countries’ bottom line, but we’re bad for it, too.
Trip Report Blues
Meanwhile, for me, touring hit a couple of bittersweet notes.
First, the heat zapped me big time! Now, remember, I grew up in Las Vegas. I know hot weather. Yet, I was huffing and puffing like nobody’s business. I was red-faced and exhausted. Am I simply no longer “used” to hot weather, or, shudders, am I old? I fear the latter! It’s a disturbing thought.
Second, I had a ridiculous amount of trouble walking/hiking around. I have a bad back. That’s not news, but we had a lot of stairs to climb, and midday each day, I struggled. Moved slowly. In pain. Stopping frequently. Is my back worse? Or again, am I O.L.D.?
Finally, as we toured beautiful new sights, I felt waves of nostalgia “in advance.” I kept thinking, “Would I see these lovely places again?”
What a ridiculous reaction! I should have been thrilled at the sight of stunning architecture and art. I should have felt joy. Gratitude. Intellectual stimulation. And yes, I did have those feelings, but still, there was an unmistakable undercurrent of sadness. Silly, but true.
London sign.
Home on the Reno Range, but Ready to Roam
Meanwhile, for all the aches and tiredness, trip organizer extraordinaire Handsome Hubby and I are already planning our next adventure. We weren’t even unpacked when my sweetie made me a lovely offer: How would I like to take a month, live in some exotic setting, and use it as a base for a series of mini-exotic side trips? It sounds great EXCEPT I hope we won’t get squirted with water pistols or be met with roller-bag protestors!
🏴 🛂 🇪🇸
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