What I Learned on one of my Summer Vacations

Last weekend Laura and I made haste unto the north in search of milder climes and more amusing locales. I will not deny that we found both but nonetheless there were certain lessons learned from this trip unto the random unknown. I will enumerate them here for the benefit of those who are unfamiliar in no particular order.

Always eat somewhere that you’ve never heard of before. While there is great benefit in knowing what you’re getting, the unknown by far promises greater reward. Our first stop of the weekend was at a known chain only because I was desperate for calories but thereafter we kept fairly truly to the random and unheard of. In almost every case, we were pleasantly surprised though it has called to mind a few simple rules.

* If the place is almost empty when you get there, don’t break their streak by helping make it less empty. The wisdom of the masses applies. If no one else is there, you shouldn’t be either.
* Any place that says “Casual Attire is Welcome” is too damn pretentious to eat at. In fact, any time a restaurant says that anything is “welcome”, if you ARE that anything, don’t bother. You’re clearly at the fringe. It’s much easier to walk away while you’re still in the parking lot than it is to get up after they’ve started fluffing the napkins. Follow your gut.
* Never order anything ethnic at a place that isn’t itself ethnic. If you’re ordering the stir fry or fajitas at a place that isn’t either Chinese or Mexican exclusively, then you are, very likely, fucked. You wouldn’t have a TV repairman take out your appendix so don’t ask a cook at Chez Steve’s to make you pot stickers. If most of the menu is grilled meats, don’t order something sitting out on the fringe. Stick to what the cook’s good at.

The rule here seems to be that most places are good at one or two things. If you deviate from that thing, you’re just asking for it. As the saying goes, dance with who brung ya. Don’t ask a sushi chef to make you a hamburger.

This weekend we ventured into the unknown without so much as a single personal computer betwixt us. It seems in retrospect that this was a mistake. Don’t get me wrong here. Disconnecting is a good thing. No work emails. No outside worries. Those are all benefits. However, I couldn’t help but feel that I could have benefited from some good time to simply sit down and vomit out the day’s happenings onto paper. I have a great deal of difficulty relaxing on vacation and spending a couple of hours sitting somewhere quiet writing about the day would have been exceptionally beneficial. The additional connectedness would have doubtless had a down side but it would have also allowed me to purge myself of any lingering thoughts in a permanent form and would have also left a much better textual record of the trip. So I think it’s important to disconnect, but not disconnect TOO much.

I still remain undecided on the overall strategy for travel. Part of me nags loudly that one should completely explore a given location. That the best goal is to find a spot and get to know it for an extended period. The other nagging belief tells me that it’s best to widen one’s experience as broadly as possible. That every single brown sign bearing an arrow should be explored and that one should miss no opportunity because it’s unlikely that one will be back again. As usual, it is the eternal argument between vacationing broadly and vacationing deeply. I don’t claim to have an answer but I do recognize the difficulty.

One thing that occurs to me is the importance of using the opening day of enthusiasm to one’s advantage. Our last trip didn’t quite make it as far north as I would have liked and I attribute that at least in part to failure to seize upon the enthusiasm of the first day. Rather than punching manfully through to the far north of the state, we somewhat lazily drifted northward and by the time we’d reached the northern extremity of our trip, the enthusiasm had drained somewhat from both of us. This makes me believe in the importance of choosing an aggressive destination on the first day and making sure to achieve it so that the more indolent days of recreation which follow can flow more naturally and more relaxedly without any concerns or regrets.

Lastly, I have been made mindful of the depth of small towns in America. When we stopped in Chesterton, Indiana for breakfast, I expected a small and lazy town, not overly filled with great ideas or personal depth of feeling. Upon exit, however, I was forced to remark to Laura that I was rightly astonished. Whether it is the amazing lilies of Douglas, Michigan or the simple wisdom of Chesteron, Indiana, I will admit that I have a new respect for the simple value of small-town America. These simple realizations make me want to hop from town to town across the state and experience all there is to be had, to listen to the simple, homey conversations and draw firmly and satisfyingly on all they have to contribute to life. I would very nearly argue that the true value of a vacation “away” is not to be had only in the far-flung reaches of a neighboring state, but probably living right around the corner.