Japan changed me.  I never expected to go to Asia.  It wasn’t on my list of top 5 or 10 places I wanted to visit in my lifetime.  Other than, perhaps, the islands of Thailand or Angor Wat it wasn’t really on my radar.   I guess it was a combination of being overshadowed by my “dream destinations” and my preconceived notions of what it would be like…  not gonna lie, having read “The Good Earth” in my early twenties hadn’t exactly catapulted that part of the world into the “dream vacation” stratosphere for me.  I mean, sure, the mountains and temples look beautiful but my mind’s eye was blinded by images of massive, noisy cities, throngs of people, and choking smog… sensory overload at its worst.  Add to that marauding bands of wild monkeys??  Hmmmm… Just not my kind of place.  But when the opportunity arose to go to Osaka, Tokyo, and Kyoto, I jumped at it… I mean, c'mon... I'm a self proclaimed "world traveler", RIGHT???  And I am SO grateful I did because, MAN, my mind’s eye had been playing tricks on me!!  I’m not saying that there weren’t parts that overwhelmed the senses… one of our friends took us to the Tokyo gaming district… but even that was fantastic in its excess, albeit in a small dose.  The irony was this:  The reality of my Japanese experience was all incredibly…. dreamlike. 

EAT

When traveling, it’s always a good idea to pack really comfortable walking shoes; we walked an average of 5 or 6 miles a day.  Good thing… because, as usual, the food was incredible!!  I ate, roughly, the equivalent of my own body weight in sushi, sashimi, gyoza, miso, and rice alone!  From a glorious, artful, dinner presentation at the Ritz Carlton Osaka that was as much a feast for the eyes as it was for the palate, to the visually stunning, yet budget friendly, Daimaru "Feast Paradise" markets in the Osaka (Train) Station… you will want to try it all!!

I wanted to experience every level of gastronomic availability.  The luxury Michelin star cuisine in Tokyo and the tiny, dark, side street haunts that are off the TripAdvisor radar.  I wanted to taste the “real” Japan!  But just how adventurous was I willing to be when it came to food??  Let’s just say I set my "adventure" goal at somewhere between “I’m in a foreign land and I want to try new things!!“ and “Oh HELL, no.  I am NOT eating that s***!!”  And so it was!  I ate any manner of sea creature (tentacles and all), I ate flowers (spicy!), I ate “ribs” (not sure whose!), I discovered that I really dislike Soba noodles (and that you’re not supposed to drink the water they're served in. Who knew?), I ate things that I really wish I knew what they were… in some cases it’s so I could eat it again and other times so I can avoid it at all costs.  I drew an indelible line at any “gelatinous mass” I encountered… and you would be surprised at how many I DID encounter.  Eww.  

A bit of advice: When you’re off the beaten path and away from the places that cater to tourists, keep your eyes open for signs that say “Japanese Only”, or for owners that wave their arms at you, or make an "X" with their forearms, in a fashion that tells you to scat.  Not all places are delighted to have Americans and/or Europeans as patrons.  Some forbid it.  It’s legal and it’s their prerogative.  Instead, look for signs (both literal and figurative) that let you know you’re welcome.  Many are obvious, such as “We Have English Menus!” or if they’re pleased to see you, and/or invite you in.   Also know that many places close between lunch and dinner.  Wait too long to have lunch and you may find yourself “hangry” and SOL!  (Ask me how I know.  pfft.)

But not to worry!  There are so many wonderful places. large and small, that welcome you with open arms.  You’ll have no shortage of choices!  When you need a break from Japanese cuisine we found Italian, German, and American food (TGIFriday’s, anyone??  Not kidding!!) without too much difficulty. 

PRAY:

The Shunkō-in Temple.  I found it in a Google search before I left home.  I am a yoga and meditation instructor and I was a Licensed Massage Therapist for many years and so, there were just two things I knew I had to do while I was in Japan:  Experience a Shiatsu massage and meditate at a Zen Buddhist Temple.  I did both.
​ 
The Shunkō-in Temple and Guesthouse in Kyoto is a Zen Buddhist temple that holds meditation classes, followed by a temple and garden tour, maccha green tea and Japanese sweets, all for only 2,500 yen (less than 25 US dollars and just over 20 euro).  All people are welcome.

 The meditation is led by Deputy Head Priest, Reverend Takafumi Kawakami, who talks about incorporating mindfulness meditation into today’s world of social media and constant connectivity, and whom I later discovered does Ted Talks!!  COOL!!  I was only there for about an hour and a half, total, but the experience was so special to me, so “once in a lifetime”, that I have no doubt it will remain one of the most memorable experiences of my life.

Which brings me to:

LOVE

May I suggest that, when you travel, you find a few things that are incredibly important to you.  Things that you either can’t do anywhere else, that were originated in the region, or that the location you’re in would make the experience that much more meaningful to you, and make sure you do them.  Even if you have to venture off on your own… as long as you’re safe, BE the solo traveler.  Don’t travel thousands of miles and then allow another 20 or 50 or 75 miles, the lack of a companion, or fear, prevent you from doing something that makes your heart sing.  Hire a guide, talk to the hotel concierge, take a taxi, take a train.  When I was sitting on that woven grass mat,  getting ready to meditate, in a temple, in KYOTO, JAPAN (!!!) I had tears of joy and gratitude in my eyes.  I hadn’t traveled nearly 6000 miles to tell myself that another 40 miles by train was too far to go to make a dream come true!!  Travel should open your eyes, open your heart, and change you.  Let it.

Like I said… Japan changed me.  Here’s how:

I’ve always had an inclination toward quiet and a sense of space and order in my surroundings, my life and my career.  Generally speaking, I don’t like a lot of noise or commotion, and I can’t even think among clutter, yet, in recent years, the amount of “stuff” I’ve accumulated has exceeded the areas in which I have to comfortably store it.  Simply put: I have way too much crap!  So the organization of belongings and the lack of “stuff” I found in Japan… in the décor, in the gardens, even in the hotel rooms… was a powerful motivator for me.  When I came home I did a quick google search and found the book: "The Life-Changing Magic of Tidying Up: The Japanese Art of Decluttering and Organizing" by Marie Kondō.  It was a lot of work on many levels, but within a week of returning from Japan I had happily let go of approximately 50% of my belongings.   What a relief!

I’ve rediscovered the freedom and luxury of Space.  Space in empty drawers and cupboards, space between my belongings, space to think and breathe… and it opened up space for even more travel, adventure, experiences… and love.   

So for that, Japan, I say arigatou gozaimashita.  Thank you.

​In part 2 of this blog I'll give more specifics on destinations... stay tuned!!  In the meantime click the lighter gray text to follow links!

​HERE'S WHAT I'VE LEARNED:

1) Don't decide what a place is going to be like before you get there.

2) Not everyone is going to like you and, as we already know, this has a lot more to do with them than with you.  

3) Don't wait until you're starving to decide on a place to eat. 

4) Letting go can be a very good thing.

5) If you find a pair of REALLY comfortable shoes that are cute, buy them!!  They'll be worth their weight in gold!

​

,Soooo… where was I?  
​
Oh yeah… I had fished my bike ride through the Cotswold’s and was about to take a car to St Pancras Railway Station in London.  From there, I rode the Eurostar under the English Channel to glorious Paris, France.  Paris was, in every way, shape, and form, magical to me.  I am, by no means, a city girl, but I fell head over heels in love with that city!

OK, so here’s what happened…

Before I left for my trip, I was walking with one of my closest friends in my hometown of Santa Barbara, and we were discussing my upcoming, twenty-one day, English adventure.  I was planning on being in London for more than a week and, from there, you can take a train to any number of fascinating destinations, so why not hop the Eurostar to Paris???  I mean, I’m there, so why the heck wouldn’t I, right??  My friend agreed that it was, indeed, a total no brainer.  She then asked me if, perhaps, I would like a Parisian tour guide, because, if so… she knew a guy...  Someone who had grown up in Paris, had lived and worked in the US for years, spoke fluent English, and happened to be back in Paris at that time. 

Hmmm… based solely on my abysmal performance in 9th grade French class, I thought having a native French interpreter wouldn’t be the worst idea.  So, once we clearly established that he was not some sort of axe murderer* but, in fact, a really nice guy, and I would be completely safe in his charge, I agreed to have her put us in touch.  And so, she did.

I would now like to interject with the fact that my dear friend had a secret ulterior motive... it was a set up!  Unbeknownst to either of us, she though the "tour guide" and I would make a great match.  

OK, soooo... let's just say that for the past two years I've no longer been traveling solo, and leave it at that, shall we??  

OK!!  Great!!  Moving along! 
​
Paris was a whirlwind!!  I as given the tour of a lifetime by a local!!  Notre Dame, the carousel, The Louvre, the Musée d'Orsay, the Champs-Élysées, the Arc de Triomphe, and the Eiffel Tower!!  It was Springtime in Paris and it was perfect!!   We had dinner at the Restaurant Ciel de Paris on the 56th floor of the Tour Montparnasse, a skyscraper with a view of the Eiffel Tower and all of Paris, and with a dinner cruise down the Seine.  It was, literally, breathtaking.  Like being on "The Bachelor", but without all those other pesky broads vying for my fella. 
 
I also had the opportunity to do some solo exploration!  Armed with a map to “Le Marais”, the historic district, with it’s incredible architecture and shops, and with a few essential phrases, “en français”, that every girl needs when she’s out shopping: “Merci, je regarde seulement” or “Thank you, I’m only looking” and “Je voudrais une crêpe Nutella, s'il vous plaît” which means: “I would like a Nutella crepe, please”, and off I went alone into the heart of Paris!!  Although “Je regardais seulement” I managed to come back with a dress, a jacket, a purse, 6 bars of soap, the most ridiculously rich and fluffy body cream I’ve ever experienced in my life (made, I think, from the clouds on which angels lay down their sleepy haloed heads to dream, and lavender), oh, and a box of 6 assorted eclairs.  Not bad for a girl who speaks no French!!  I imagine that, once I learn the language I could do some real damage!!

Alas, soon it was time to leave Paris.  I went back to Gare du Nord to catch the Eurostar back to London.  This is where I learned about a little something called "Proof of Onward Travel".  Oh, boy...

The big, uniformed, British man behind the glass asked me for my passport, ticket, and “proof of onward travel from England.”  I handed him my train ticket and passport and said “Excuse me, Sir, my onward what??"  “Proof of Onward Travel, Miss.  I can’t let you into England if you can’t prove you have the means to leave." (to which I eloquently responded with a blank stare.) "Do you think they’d let me into America without proof that I was going to leave?" he asked... and then answered for himself:  "They would not.”  “Well I have a ticket." I said.  "I’m flying out of Heathrow, back to the US in 3 days on Air New Zealand.”  “Good.  Let me see it.”  “Well I don’t have my boarding pass, it’s too soon.”  “Well what am I to do”, he asked, “take your word for it?”  “Sir, I have a receipt for the purchased ticket but it’s in my email and I don’t have internet right now.”  “You know I can detain you right now.” he said.   To this I had no response... a rare moment when I was stuck completely silent.

“MISS!!  Do you have proof of onward travel or not?”  “Sir”, I said, “I didn’t know I needed it.  This is my first trip and I’ve never heard of that before.  I know that’s no excuse, but I’m sorry, it’s the truth.  If you can get me internet I can show you the proof of purchase from the airline.”  He said “If I take you back there and they detain you, you’ll have internet but, I assure you, you won’t make your train.”  If his intention was to be really intimidating, he was a rip-roaring success!  We stared at each other.  He took my passport, slammed the stamp in it and said “Go.”  I said “Thank you!” and he said “Word to the wise, Miss; next time take a screen shot of your ticket.”  “Yes, Sir.  Thank you.”  And I bolted toward the train.  In a few days, I was back in Santa Barbara…

Since then, I've been to the South of France seven (7!!) times, and I have been to Ireland with my best friend!!  I’ll give you more details about those fabulous places in upcoming posts but… we’re about to leave on another trip to a brand new (for me) destination and I’ll write about that first!! 
 
So, seriously, all I did was get a passport and send out a message to the Universe that I was ready to travel the world!!  The rest, as they say, is history!!
 
*Yes, gentleman, ascertaining that you are not a(n) “axe murderer/rapist/serial killer”, etc. is standard operating procedure among women when compiling the verbal dossier/background check on all men, platonic or otherwise, prior to introduction.  Now you know.

HERE'S WHAT I'VE LEARNED:

1) If you can find a local to give you a tour (provided, of course, that you've established, beyond a reasonable doubt, the he/she is not some sort of axe murderer), do it!!

2) Even if you're traveling with someone else, make time to do some solo exploration (just be sure your safe)... it helps to push you outside of your comfort zone!  You can do it!!

3) There are REALLY fabulous apps for navigating the subways and trains.  Use them!!

4) If you're someplace where you don't speak the language, make the effort to learn a few key phrases.  Your effort will usually be noticed and appreciated.    

5) Generally speaking, its not Americans people have a problem with... it's rudeness.  You're visiting so be polite!

6) Always have proof of onward travel... and a wise man once told me to take a screen shot of said proof... you know, in case you don't have internet.  ;)

QUOTE FOR THE DAY:

“FOLLOW YOUR BLISS AND THE UNIVERSE WILL OPEN DOORS FOR YOU WHERE THERE WERE ONLY WALLS.” 
~JOSEPH CAMPBELL~

Biking the English countryside from village to picture perfect village!!  Buds and flowers bursting, gently rolling hills, stone walls stretching as far as the eye can see, baby lambs and bunny rabbits abound!!   What could be better than that??   How about getting out in the sunshine, breathing the cool, fresh Spring air and, who are we kidding… burning tons of calories so we don’t gain an once as we sample every local delicacy in sight!?!  Oh, yeah!!  That’s what I’M talkin’ about!!  And that’s EXACTLY what this bike ride was like!!  Well… that’s exactly what it was like… in my MIND.  The reality of it was just a teensy weensy bit different.  How was it different, you ask??   Hmmmm… let’s see… Planning a bike ride nearly 6000 miles away, in a country I’ve never been, based on terrain that exists, primarily, in my imagination… let’s just go out on a limb here and say that it may not be the best idea I’ve ever had.    But it really I SEEMED like a good idea the time.

Let me just say this first… the fact that my bike ride through the Cotswolds wasn’t a rousing success was to no fault of the cycling company with whom I made the arrangements… they were fabulous.  No, no the fault lies with me.   But if you want to take this opportunity to learn from my mistakes and give it a go, you should have a fabulous time!! 

A bit about the bike rental company: Cycle Cotswolds  http://www.cyclecotswolds.co.uk/, in Chipping Campden, UK, is run by the lovely couple, Stefania and Peter, and they offer an entire suite of services, including bike and equipment rental, custom cycling routes, bicycle pick up and/or delivery (within a certain radius) should your journey begin and/or end somewhere other than Chipping Campden, and if you don’t feel like schlepping your bags along on your ride they’ll even give your luggage a lift and have it waiting at your destination!!  May I suggest (nay, implore) that you take full advantage of ALL these services?  Trust me, their value far outweighs the nominal cost.   I, sadly, did not.  I had decided, in advance, which villages I wanted to visit, Google mapped the distance between them to ensure I was keeping it (I thought) to about 12 to 14 miles, and asked if they could map out the best bike route.  They did exactly what I’d asked.  I now know I did far too much planning myself, without any real knowledge of the area.  Had I told them what I was looking for, released control and allowed them to plan my trip, especially with regard to the distance and level of difficulty I was comfortable with, and let them chose my towns accordingly (because, let’s face it, they’re all beautiful!), I’m thinking these next few posts would be entirely different!!  But I didn’t.  Ah, well… this is how we learn!!

OK, back to my ride.  The day before I left I was fitted with a bike by Peter, and he went over my route.  While looking at my itinerary, I’d noticed that my second day of riding was quite long… 18.4 miles!!  Peter said that they’d given me a longer route to avoid some of the busiest roads.  This made good sense to me and, since I’m in pretty good shape, I didn’t think too much of the extra miles.  The morning of my ride I, once again, ate an astoundingly large English breakfast (hey, come on, I needed the fuel!!), packed up, checked out, and was ready to go.   Stefania gave me their emergency contact info, some last minute tips for navigating my way out of town (“you’re going to go up a big, big hill but you’ll get a great view at the top!”), and with hug, a smile, and some parting words of encouragement… she watched as I peddled away.

I was off!!  Down the main street, where I’d staggered into town only two days before, delirious with jet lag, I rode like the wind... hair flying behind me!! (ok, maybe “like the wind” is a bit of an exaggeration… I was actually moving in a forward motion just fast enough that I didn’t tip over.  And… my hair was in a ponytail and shoved haphazardly under my helmet, so I may have taken a bit of artistic license there, as well.)  I expertly navigated the first 3 turns out of town without incident (maybe because I stopped about every 30 feet to check my map and make sure I was going the right way?)  I came upon the first big hill exactly as Stefiania had described it.  Wow.  She was right!!  That IS a big hill!  Who cares!!  I can do it!  I was a runner for years!!  I hike in the mountains!!  I’m a yoga and FITNESS instructor!!  I eat hills ten times this size for breakfast (well, ok, maybe I hadn't that morning, but still.)  Woo HOOOOO!!  I started up the hill, fueled by excitement, determination… and about three pounds of eggs, beans, coffee, sausage and bacon.  As I peddled the bike up… I shifted the gears down.  And down… and down…. and… wow… this is a BIG hill.  But I can do it!!  Only wimps, quitters, and four year olds get off and push (instant karma in three… two…)   But my bike was already in first gear…. And my feet were zipping around about three times faster than the bike was moving.  And it was becoming nearly impossible to continue.   “Holy moly…. This is really steep!!  Is there a gear below first??   How much farther is it??  I must be getting there, right??”  Wrong.  I wasn’t.  A quick survey behind me and up ahead…   I was approximately 1/16th of the way up the hill.  “Are you kidding me??  OK.  Maybe I should consider getting off and pushing…. Just this one time.”  I got to the point where I literally couldn’t move the peddles anymore.   I had to get off the bike and push.  I had no choice.   “Just this once”, I told myself.  “I’ve only just started… I’m not even warmed up yet, really.  I’m on vacation and in no hurry, so who the heck cares!?!”  I got off the bike and began to push it up the hill.  Thankfully, my backpack wasn’t with me.  Peter was dropping it off in Guiting Power, today’s destination.  After about ten minutes of walking I was nearly at the top of the hill!  The view was getting spectacular up there!  I was on a quiet country road surrounded by open, grassy fields.  The hillsides were dotted with limestone cottages and farms, sheep lazily grazed in disjointed herds, and stone walls created softly geometric boundaries.  I could see the outer edge of Chipping Campden beneath me.  It was truly beautiful.  An occasional car sped past and I would give them a quick wave and a smile which was nearly always returned.  I was happy.  I was living out my dream!!  I was about to crest the first hill of my mini biking tour of the Cotswolds… and I was doing it all by myself!!   I reached the top of the hill and there were glorious, sweeping views in all directions!!  Well… almost all directions… all but one.  That would be the direction directly in front of me.  I had not reached the top of the hill.  I had reached the top of the first bump of the hill.  It was not, however, the last.  This was a big damn hill.  One of my maps said this was 12.3 mile trip and would take me 1 hour 5 minutes, total.  I was about 20, or so, minutes in and had gone about a mile… maybe a little more.  Hmmmm…

Eventually I did reach the top of that hill and was rewarded with several miles of glorious, gentle, peddle-free coasting, down the other side!!  The rest of my ride that morning was mostly uneventful, albeit rather challenging.  With the navigating tips Stefania had given me I was, thankfully, able to find my way without too much trouble… but I REALLY had to pay attention.  I stopped and got out my map at, literally, every turn.  Nearly all the turns and intersections I encountered were only marked with signs pointing in various directions.  Each sign had the name of a different town, and the number of miles to it.  By locating each of those towns on the map, I could ascertain where I was.   I quickly found that it was just as helpful to make sure that I was heading away from the towns in the “wrong” direction as it was that I was heading toward the towns in the “right” direction.  I rarely found roads marked with street names, nor did I find signs with the name of my “destination” town until I was within two to three miles of it… but when I did I always let out a big cheer in celebration… and relief!!

As I neared Guiting Power, I did become a bit confused with my directions and believe I may have been on the wrong road, but a local man out for a late morning walk was kind enough to stop and help me.  He got me headed in the right direction and assured me that I was only about two miles away and I’d find my little village without any trouble.  He was correct.  The road toward the village was truly breathtaking.  I did have to climb another big hill but when I reached the top I could see for miles!!  As I stopped and looked out in the distance I could see Guiting Power (at least I HOPED it was Guiting Power), nestled in the valley on the other side of the hill, just about a mile away.  I was so relieved.   It had been a long ride and the hills were much larger than I anticipated, the navigation was more challenging than I anticipated, and… how shall I put this delicately… the robust aroma of some of the sheep farms and the freshly fertilized Spring fields were far more frequent and, shall we say, “intense” than I anticipated!!   

As I’d mentioned, one of my maps said that the journey from Chipping Campden to Guiting Power was 12.3 miles and would take me 1 hour and 5 minutes, total.  However, without taking any breaks, and only stopping to check my map, it took me… just over 3 hours.  NAILED IT!! 

The village of Guiting Power in the Northern Cotswolds was beyond description.  It’s located in Cheltenham, Gloucestershire on the slopes of the Widrush River valley (thus, the hills) and has a population of around 300. What it lacked in size it more than made up for in beauty.  It was as if I’d ridden into a living, breathing postcard.  Part of the attraction, for me, was that it was so quiet and serene, and I attribute that, partially, to being there off season.  I easily found the inn, got checked in, and settled into my room.  I had a fantastic meal in the pub, then set out on foot, late in the afternoon, to roam around the town.  I was able to take my time… wandering around and taking pictures to my heart’s content, and I was able to do it in a couple of hours.  I was really tired and only there for one night so I found that to be ideal.  I do wish I could have explored the local market but, because it was Sunday, it was closed… and I would be gone in the morning before it opened.  My loss.   

I stayed at the Hollow Bottom Inn  http://www.hollowbottom.com/ and I absolutely loved it!!  It’s home to a pub that serves the most incredible local fair and I was fortunate enough to be there for their traditional Sunday dinners.  Clearly proud of their horse racing history and their connection with The Cheltenham Races, the pubs décor pays homage to this rich history.  As a former equestrian, I spent my entire meal entranced by the racing silks and newspaper articles lovingly framed on the walls, and by pictures of some of the most gorgeous thoroughbreds I’d ever seen!   I, simultaneously, found myself being fully absorbed into the warmth and conviviality of this place and, although I was alone, I felt anything but.  The food was delicious, the staff and the patrons were all so very friendly and engaging, my room was cozy, clean, sunny and inviting… the village was picture perfect  and it’s residents were welcoming and, in my experience, extremely funny!!  In case you can’t tell… I really liked it!

The day was over and night had fallen.  I was tired, I was fed, I’d checked in with my friends and family on Facebook, and I’d exchanged my daily emails and had my nightly phone call with my charming, French tour guide (whom I’d previously met in LA, and with whom I was becoming quite close) about the days adventure, my upcoming arrival in Paris and, as always, I received a big dose of encouragement and moral support.   The bike ride was far more challenging than I expected, but I did it.  I was happy.  I sunk into the great big bathtub for a long, hot soak, made my way to bed and, that night, I slept like a rock.  In the next 24 hours I would discover this was a very, very good thing because, man oh, man… was I gonna need it!!  I had a long ride ahead of me the next day and, although I didn’t know it at the time, todays ride was, far and away, my easiest…

What's the biggest lesson, and/or the best mistake, you've learned on vacation??  I'd love to hear your comments below!! 
If you enjoy this blog and my photos, please "Like" below and share the link!!  Thanks!!  Safe and happy travels!!  ~Amie~

QUOTE FOR THE DAY:

"I'VE LEARNED SO MUCH FROM MY MISTAKES
I'M THINKING OF MAKING A FEW MORE."
~UNKNOWN~

So… 29 hours after I’d awoken in my beloved Tempurpedic back home, I arrived in Chipping Campden, England; a gorgeous, bustling village about 40 miles Northeast of Oxford.  The second I arrived I knew it was going to be everything I’d hoped for.  It had rows of stone cottages, mossy tiled roofs, cobblestone streets, and trails of wood smoke curling out of chimneys and lightly scenting the crisp afternoon air.  If not for the modern day cars and wardrobe of passersby, I’d have sworn I’d been dropped back in time!   I paused on the sidewalk and just tried to soak it all in… not an easy task amid exhaustion that teetered on the brink of delirium!  Was I really here??  Was I really in ENGLAND??  It was all so surreal!!  

The majority of clouds had lifted and the overcast day had turned mostly sunny, but in the long shadows of late afternoon it felt uncomfortably cold to this sleepy California girl and made me anxious to get indoors.  I was even more anxious to get my blasted backpack (which, at this point, felt like it was loaded with rocks) off of my aching shoulders and dump it in a heap!!  I made my way into the pub at the Volunteer Inn, my home for the next two nights… and the first thing I noticed was how blissfully warm it was inside (much to my delight, this was about to become a recurring theme in this particular village!)  Several gentlemen (I assumed they were “the regulars”) were at the bar having a pint and, beyond acknowledging my presence with a quick nod and a half smile, really didn't give me a second look (I must confess, this was an instant relief) but a woman sitting by herself at a corner table gave me a warm, reassuring, and much needed smile.  I was soon greeted by the bartender as she appeared from a back room, dropping steaming plates of food to the men at the bar and refilling their drinks.  She was a young, energetic woman and a multitasker, indeed!  In addition to tending bar and taking and serving food orders, she checked me in, gave me a tour of the inn and showed me to my room on the first floor.  It was quite large and had sliding glass doors that led to my private patio, with views of the back garden, creek, and rolling fields beyond.  It wasn't particularly fancy but this would do quite nicely, thank you very much!  She apologized for the chill in the air, explaining that they had upgraded my room at the last minute; they had a group coming in and decided to put them all together upstairs, and felt this room would be quieter for me (YAY!!)  She proceeded to crank up the radiators saying “Now let’s ge’cha some heat!”… ahhhh music to my ears!!  Asking if there was anything else I needed (let’s see: bed, shower, internet, coffee maker, and heat on the rise… nope!!  I’m good!!)  she closed the door behind her and left me to the heavenly peace, quiet and solitude of my room... which fully enveloped me and draped over me like a quilt, muffling all sound.  I hadn't realized it until that very moment but, quite frankly, other than various restroom stalls, it was the first time I’d been alone in what seemed like an eternity. It was so silent… and such a profound and unexpected relief to my ears. I just stood there alone in the middle of my room and stared into the semi-darkness.  The curtains were closed and tiny particles of dust gently swirled and danced in the slices of sunlight that cut between the panels of the drapes.  The difference between the constant, frenetic energy of my journey and stepping into the sanctuary of that room was distinct, audible, and palpable… like Dorothy’s house getting dropped out of the twister into Oz, it was as if I landed with a thud and everything went quiet… and I stood there and let it surround me.  I could stop now.  I was finally there.  I was in England.  I was in the Cotswolds. The first time traveler who set out alone on this crazy, incredible, lifelong dream of a journey had actually arrived.  Car, bus, plane, train (train, train, train, train… yeah, I think it was 5 trains, but whatever), car.  Approximately 5,750 miles…. and about 40 years.  It was no longer a dream and had now become my life.  I just stood there for a minute and really took that in.  I know what you’re thinking… you’re thinking I cried again, right??  Wrong.  I cracked a smile, started laughing, ripped that bloody backpack off of me and (chalk it up to sleep deprivation) jumped up and down like a lunatic saying “Oh my God!!  I did it, I did it, I did it!!”  Woo HOO!!!

As much as I wanted to get out of my scuzzy “airplane clothes”, take a ridiculously hot shower and drop directly into bed, the village beckoned, as did my desire to reset my body clock as quickly as possible… so I decided to unpack a bit and go for a quick walk down the main street.

The rest of my night consisted of a delicious dinner at Maharaja, the Inns East Indian restaurant, finally taking that MUCH needed shower, checking in on Facebook as I needed a touchstone with “reality” and home, and a good long sleep…

When I woke the next morning, I opened my eyes, looked around the room and (ever the lady) said to myself “Holy s***!!  I’m in England!!”  My first morning came rife with possibility!!  A new country to delve into, a new town to explore, people to meet and, of course, my first real “Full English Breakfast”, about which I have four things to say: 1) It does not disappoint.  2) It is not for the faint of heart.  3) It is not for vegetarians.  4) It probably shouldn't be eaten everyday. (I’m no doctor… I’m just sayin’)  Two eggs, two pieces of toast, two slices of bacon (mmmm… bacon…), two large sausage links, a fried tomato, fried mushrooms, baked beans, juice, coffee or tea, breads, butter, jam, yogurt, fruit... OMG.  Now THAT, my friends, is BREAKFAST!! 

After breakfast (and although I was so dang full I couldn't take a full breath) I ventured (read: waddled/lumbered) off to explore the town.  My first destination was up the hill to St. James Church.  I found it utterly mesmerizing.  The soaring spires, the curve of the arches, the physical and psychological immensity of the huge wooden doors, the cemetery… the vivid imagery of the bursting bright green and yellow Spring Daffodils juxtaposed against the ancient stone and feathery, pale lichen of the markers, the sweeping views of the countryside beyond.   A church has stood on this site since 1180 AD and the West Tower of the church was constructed in about 1500 AD.  I felt it a privilege to be meandering these grounds and found it all so very moving.  I spent the better part of an hour there all alone… and found myself, once again, just trying to take it all in.  Imagining the centuries of people who have walked these paths before me… those laid to rest here… what their lives may have been like.  I thought about those who will walk where my feet have just been, many years after I’m gone.  I felt I was physically experiencing history.  These very moments are why I came to England.  I could have visited that church and gone back home and my mission would have been fulfilled… the experience left me awestruck and humbled. 

I walked back down the hill into the town and began to explore all the delightful little shops.  Their windows irresistibly displaying all sorts of goodies that lie within… delicate tea sets and hefty mugs, whimsical items for the home, gorgeous wool coats, scarves and sweaters, woven tea towels and linens, beautifully handmade crafts, scrumptious scones, tea cakes and breads… their fresh baked aroma filling the air and luring you in!  I was graciously greeted as I entered each shop, but what I was taken by the most, even beyond the warmth of the welcome, was how deliciously, cozy warm in temperature they all were!  The heat was turned up, woodstoves were stoked, and so many of the shops had real wood burning fireplaces, flames dancing and welcoming all visitors inside!  I’d never experienced anything like it in regular places of business!  It was so inviting and made the chilly outside temperatures so much more tolerable!  I shopped in leisurely comfort, sipped English tea at a tiny table next to a woodstove, and I happily entered a restaurant, shed my coat and scarf and enjoyed a meal in front of a fire… I was practically purring like a cat!!  All in all… it was my observation that the fine people of Chipping Campden, England are NOT afraid to light a fire or crank the heat and, from a woman who has gone through life on a spectrum of personal comfort that ranges from chilly to freezing, 90% of the time, for as far back as I can remember… I say resounding and heartfelt thank you!!  I blissfully wandered the town into the late afternoon…

My second day was spent much like my first.  I was lost in my own little word of roaming the village, browsing shops, sightseeing , taking pictures, and, as I would be biking from village to village over the next week, being outfitted and getting ready for the bike ride.  Ohhhh…. the bike ride… *sigh* 

But that’s another story… and I’ll tell it next Monday!! 

THOUGHT OF THE DAY:

"YOU DON’T NEED MAGIC TO DISAPPEAR, ALL YOU NEED IS A DESTINATION"

~UNKNOWN~

Two little words that strike fear into my heart: "PACK LIGHT".  And I mean REALLY light.  I’m only bringing one carry on bag that converts to a back pack for three weeks of travel.  As tempted as I am to throw in just one more pair of shoes (specifically, my super cute black riding boots that come just below the knee) there is one unavoidable fact that may just keep that from happening… I’m biking through the Cotswolds for a week and everything I bring I have to carry with me on that bike!!  How’s that for incentive to edit one’s wardrobe?    Every time I want to add something to the list I ask myself: “Do you really want to carry that?”  Sometimes the answer is a very clear and resounding “NO” and other times…  hmmmm… not so much!  Take those boots, for instance!! 

My vacation plans and activities are rather diverse, exponentially increasing the challenge. For the first portion of the trip I’ll be biking in England, quite possibly in a chilly rain, and I'll be staying in cozy inn’s and B&B’s, so that means sporty, waterproof and warm.  Then I’m off to Paris where (no offense to the English countryside) I, clearly, need to up my game!  What’s a girl to do?  Pack only mix and match items that have at least two or three functions each, that’s what!  Here’s what I mean:
and 
Yoga Pants: No, really!!!  A heavy weight, boot cut pair of black yoga pants can work quadruple duty.  Mine have the ability to wick away moisture and are a matte finish without any sheen.  They work for many outdoor activities, especially on a cool, dry day.  They can easily serve as a black slack and look adorable and chic when paired with a tunic top scarf.  They make for very comfy lounge wear and are perfect for an overnight flight, AND I can even wear them to do, of all things, YOGA!  What a concept!!

Convertible Hiking Pants:  I hike for a living and I’m in love with these pants.  They are “convertible” meaning that they can zip off above the knee and become shorts and are, literally, made for outdoor sports.  The fabric is extremely lightweight so they pack away beautifully and can be washed in the sink at night and be totally dry by morning.  They’re water resistant and even have an SPF rating of 30+.  Pair them with your walking shoes and a t-shirt and you have an adorable pair of cargo pants (or shorts) that are perfect for a day of sightseeing, rain or shine!  Take them one step further by trowing on a wedge or dressy flat, a sleek tank top, and a sweater around your shoulders.  Add a pretty belt and a couple bangles and you’re set for a casual night out!

Plain Black Walking Flats:  I bought a pair of solid black, rubber soled, slip-on/lace free flats that are specifically made for walking.  They are unbelievably comfy and very simple in appearance which is what makes them so versatile.  Mine are Teva Niyama’s and can be worn with a strap that goes across the top of the foot, Mary Jane style, or the strap can be flipped away and tucked behind the heel for more of a ballet flat look… I love that!  But here’s my trick:  I went online and searched “shoe clips”.  They are small, clip-on embellishments that snap onto the top front (aka “vamp”) of your shoe and take it from simple to sophisticated or from day to evening in one easy step!  They come in lots of colors and styles, from understated little bows and flirty flowers to sparkling rhinestones!  I got two different styles of rhinestones: a white rectangular and a small, round, multi toned blue.  Now I’ve suddenly got 3 pairs of the most comfortable and adorable flats you can imagine that easily pair with everything from jeans and cargo pants to dresses!  It's one more way of adding a little splash of interest and color to my predominantly black wardrobe, and it's an inexpensive, and possibly safer, alternative to wearing jewelry when that may not be so wise.   LOVE them!!

So those are three of my wardrobe selection tips.  I’m only bringing 3 pairs of pants, total, and only two of them get packed.   I’ll be wearing my yoga pants on the plane with a pretty, cozy tunic and a pashmina scarf which doubles as a blanket on the plane.  I’ll be comfy enough to sleep (fingers crossed) and won’t look as though I’m walking through Heathrow in my jammies (not that there’s anything wrong with that).  I’m also bringing a long t-shirt dress and a second tunic. I really love the tunics as they totally change the look of my yoga pants and jeans, and can be worn alone as dresses w/ tights and flats (but wouldn't that outfit also be unbelievably cute with… oh, I don’t know… BOOTS??)   I’m including a trio of silky black, breathable, wicking undershirts for layering with everything; one is a long sleeved mock turtleneck, another is a short sleeved scoop neck, and the third is a tank…  all three easily pass as outerwear, weigh only a couple of ounces and pack away to almost nothing.  My Doc Martin’s are coming along as well.  My one “luxury item” is a dress that I’m absolutely in love with. It’s a recent thrift store find and makes me feel like Juliet Binoche in Chocolat!!!  I have a dinner cruise down the Seine for which I hope to look especially nice & I’ll be wearing that dress… with my embellished black flats, of course!!  All in all, with only 5 main items of clothing in my suitcase, I’ll have well over 20 different looks.  Not bad, right??  Oh… and in the interest of full disclosure… the jury is still out on the boots…

What are your best packing tips and trip essentials?  Please comment below!! 

By the way:  I’m leaving in only a few days and will have some extra posts coming up!  We’re about to do this!! ~Amie~

Using your cell phone abroad!! Easy peasy, right!?!  Call you provider, change your plan to something called, oh I don’t know, “Unlimited Call, Text and Data International Plan”, or some other catchy name, pay 50 extra bucks a month and, Woo HOO, the next thing you know you’re texting selfies to your BFF 6000 miles away, checking in on Facebook on the Champs de Elysee and Tweeting “OMG! #TowerOfLondon #lunchonthethames #fullyepic”… right?  (insert “needle scratching record” sound effect)  Um, WRONG!!  I know what you’re thinking: “Oh you poor, sad, disillusioned little optimist…*sigh* smh.”  But, seriously, it really shouldn't be this difficult, should it? After all, going on a trip abroad isn't a particularly original idea.  I want to travel internationally, not travel to the International Space Station. SHEESH!  However, after two calls to my cell phone provider, two visits to their local storefront, several visits to their website, two visits to the Apple store, countless online searches, and inquires to practically everyone I've ever met, I came to the conclusion that the solution was going to be neither simple nor easy.  I mean, sure, you can call, text, FB, Tweet and use your GPS to your hearts content but not without coming home to a cell phone bill that is, roughly, the equivalent of a round trip ticket from LAX to Heathrow.

Normally I’m a woman who likes a lot of information so I can come to my own informed decisions based on what best suits my needs.  But after weeks of research without resolution, all I really wanted was for someone to just TELL me what the heck to do!  I wanted to find the best/cheapest/easiest way to stay safe and connected while I travel (and when I say “stay safe and connected” I, of course, mean “feed my addiction to electronics”) and to do so at a reasonable and predictable cost.  Is that too much to ask?  So that’s exactly what I set out to do.  I messaged a trusted friend who is something of a tech guru and travels extensively and said: “Please, just tell me what to do”  Here was my answer:  Find out if my own cell phone has a sim card and is GSM compatible; if so, get it unlocked by my carrier, if that's something they'll do... Mine is a yes on all three counts! Otherwise, get an inexpensive, used, unlocked, 4G, Android phone before I leave.  When I arrive in London buy a pre-paid, GSM phone/data/text card.  Done.  Thank you!  Sadly, this is not the first time I was given this information… someone near and dear had told me this at least a month ago but I was still in the “gung ho, information gathering” phase when I heard it.  Oh, the folly of youth!!

I’ve also been advised to take along my iPad and take advantage of free wifi available at my various lodgings, etc.  Another great tip I’ve gotten is, if you're going to use a phone other than your own, to be SURE you have the data, roaming feature, etc, on your regular cell phone from home turned OFF when you travel or you’ll be, financially speaking, very, very sorry.

Now I’m not saying this is the single, definitive answer, nor am I suggesting that this is what you should do.  I’m new to this and I’m just learning.  What I am saying is this is the advice given to me by trusted friends.  I suggest that you do your own research (provided that you possess the emotional fortitude required to navigate THAT particular labyrinth), talk to your trusted circle, and do what works best for you. Got it??  Great!!

Now I want to hear from you!!  Have you traveled abroad?  If so what have you tried that did or didn’t work?  Are you planning a trip?  What are you planning on doing?  Have any tips you’d like to pass along or mistakes we should avoid?  Let’s start the conversation and help one another out!  Comment below and please be sure to check the small “notify me of new comments” box so you’ll be made aware of any feedback!  Thanks so much & happy travels!!  ~Amie~


THOUGHT FOR THE DAY:
“WHAT I BELIEVE IS THAT ALL CLEAR-MINDED PEOPLE SHOULD REMAIN TWO THINGS THROUGHOUT THEIR LIFETIMES: CURIOUS AND TEACHABLE.”  
~ROGER EBERT~