Tragic Sandwich

Tag: tour

  • Adjusting Expectations: Travel Edition

    So I’ve been listening to podcasts for a while now, and one of my favorites is The Mom Hour with Meagan Francis and Sarah Powers. Each week they have a new episode that shares parenting advice and experience on a particular topic–but in a no-judgment, do-what-works-for-you kind of way. It’s just my speed.

    (And their episodes always give me blogging ideas, so watch for more references to them and the podcast!)

    They’ve also added a series of episodes called “More Than Mom,” in which they discuss things beyond parenting advice. This week’s topic was travel.

    Travel’s something I’ve been meaning to write about for a long time, because it’s one of those areas in life where I had expectations based on my own childhood–and then things turned out to be different.

    When I was a kid, we traveled a lot–with the result that I visited every state (except Alaska) before I was 30. In the U.S., we traveled mostly by car, often camping in our pop-up tent trailer. Budget motel rooms were fairly rare, and the four of us would stay in one room. Then we moved to South Texas, where it was too hot to camp. Budget motel rooms became more common.

    We were fortunate enough to do a fair amount of international travel; my dad was in the military, so when we lived on the East Coast, we could get cheap flights to Europe on Air Force cargo planes. On those trips, we stayed in B&Bs, which tended to be less like showplaces filled with antiques and more like the house of someone who had a couple of spare rooms and was willing to serve you some food in the morning.

    Eventually, my parents moved on to tour packages and cruises, but my travel expectations for myself, certainly for the forseeable future, were of the DIY, low-budget variety. And, as it turned out, so were Mr. Sandwich’s. Neither one of us felt like resort people.

    But then we had Baguette, and we got to know her needs, and our travel style changed.

    First, neither Mr. Sandwich nor I has been on a plane since our trip to Kauai in 2009. This is kind of bizarre, because when I was single, I was the person who was on a plane once a month, and not for work. Even after we married, we flew once or twice a year. But we haven’t taken Baguette on a plane yet–although I’m sure we’ll try it at some point–so most of our travel is by car or train (she loves the train!).

    Second, we don’t stay in budget motels.

    Baguette is pretty adaptable, but she does best and is most comfortable in a setting that’s like a home. She likes some space, and some delineation of that space, and a comfy sofa. Those don’t tend to be features of budget motels.

    When we move in, we move in. Stuff EVERYWHERE.

    Also, she’s not a fan of restaurants. Too much waiting. So we cook more on vacation.

    What this means is that VRBO is our best friend. We look for one- or two-bedroom places with a full kitchen, in areas that are walkable and close to amenities, as well as within reasonable striking distance of the attractions we’re visiting. We’ve found a regular place in Santa Barbara (this summer vacation will be our eighth year spending a week there, and our fifth with this particular rental), and based on our Spring Break trip to San Diego, we may have found a regular place there, too.

    If VRBO doesn’t have anything available in another location, we look for a hotel room that comes with a kitchen. There are more of these than there used to be; over the past few years, we’ve stayed in Homewood Suites, Larkspur Landing, and TownePlace Suites.

    For a night or two, we can manage a simpler room that has a mini-fridge and microwave, but longer than that and everyone gets cramped and edgy. No one wants to be cramped and edgy on vacation.

    So it’s not what I expected–but it works. It works well. And if something else works in the future, we’ll do that. But this is really good for now.

    How do you travel?

  • Jobs I’ve Had

    Shalini of Reading and Chickens wrote a post that I liked so much, I thought, “I want to steal this idea.” So I said, “Can I steal this?” And she said, “Yes.” So here goes.

    1977. I wanted a newspaper route, but even the weekly local throw-away refused to hire anyone under the age of 10. So somehow I wound up with a doughnut route. You read that right. I was a door-to-door doughnut salesperson, taking orders for and delivering boxes of cake, glazed, and jelly-filled doughnuts. But doughnut delivery day and swim team practice were the same day, and the first made me too tired to do well at the second, so I quit.

    1980-82. I babysat for several families in our neighborhood. Generally the children were only a year or two younger than I was, which meant that it was less babysitting and more keep-them-from-killing-each-other-and-get-them-out-if-the-house-catches-fire. Which may sound like a joke, but our next-door neighbors’ house burned to the ground when I was in sixth grade, so everyone was actually very aware of that. Note: The next-door neighbors never hired me as a sitter because some of their children were older than I was.

    1984-1986. A newspaper route! Finally! Thankfully, it was an afternoon paper (See how old I am? I remember afternoon papers), so I didn’t have to wake up before dawn. Although I had to do that anyhow to catch my school bus, so maybe that didn’t matter so much. I also feel that my earlier desire for a route was vindicated, because I won a state-wide award for newspaper delivery. Yes, I did.

    1987-1989. Checking IDs in my college dorm. I was a little tyrant, which was completely unnecessary. To this day, if I meet anyone who had any reason to even try to come into my dorm building during that time period, I apologize to them on principle. So far every person has said, “I’m sorry, I don’t remember you,” and I reply, “Really, that’s for the best.”

    1992-1993. Nanny for the son of one of the professors I’d had in grad school. I lived in her house and provided post-daycare coverage in exchange for room and board. We all got along well (I’d been babysitting her son for a year before I moved in), she gave me incredible flexibility for my job search (see below), and it was a great experience. Plus her son was a bright and adorable toddler, so taking care of him was fun. Also it gave me a tiny bit of parental street cred long before Baguette.

    1992-1993. Tour guide. I also led student tours at a nearby historic site. This is where I learned that you can walk 3rd graders past a half-naked statue and they don’t care at all, but 4th graders will just stand there and snicker endlessly.

    1993. Marketing Assistant/Apprentice to Willy Loman. I spent two weeks filing faxes for a company that was transitioning from an award-winning ad agency to an import-export firm, which still doesn’t make sense to me. The first day I was there, the head of sales took me out to lunch. He kept talking about all the deals he’d made. I kept wondering when he was going to tell me that he wasn’t just liked, he was well-liked. They tried to underpay me by $2 an hour for the two weeks I was temp-to-permanent. I don’t remember if they offered me the job on a permanent basis, but it was so boring that I didn’t want it anyhow.

    I have only pursued one of these fields, although I still love doughnuts. Maybe a little too much.