With each trip I take, I bring home magic memories — travelers’ gold nuggets of experiences I will remember all my life. In this month’s edition of Travel News, in words and pictures, I’m sharing a few favorite moments that gave my 2011 travels that extra sparkle:
All of my Protestant life I’ve watched hard-scrabble pilgrims and frail nuns climb Rome’s Scala Santa (Holy Steps) on their knees. I always observed as though they were in a parallel universe. This year, I passed into that universe. I picked up the little pilgrim’s primer explaining what holy thoughts to ponder on each step, knelt down, and — one by one — began climbing the Scala Santa. Knees on stone, I experienced each of the steps Jesus climbed on his way to being condemned by Pontius Pilate. If they could, my kneecaps would have been screaming. In my pain, the art that engulfed the staircase snapped into action. And, while my knees would never agree, the experience was beautiful.
I’m not the cocktails-at-happy-hour type of traveler. But this year, in the early evening light, with no harsh shadows to darken the natural pastel pretty of Siena’s stones, I sat at the best table overlooking Il Campo — my favorite square in Europe — and enjoyed a cocktail. After a leisurely hour presiding over the passegiatta action that turns Il Campo into “il Italian fashion show,” I left thinking that was the best five euros I could have spent.
This year I saw lots of travelers with new-fangled tablets, reading my guidebooks electronically. It’s so fun to see people touring with a non-print version of my work. In Florence, I experienced a moment when the future arrived. In the shadow of David, a tourist handed me something and asked, “Can you sign my nook, please?”
Every dad knows that the worst way to have your son embrace something you care about is to push for it. I’ve made a careful point to let my 24-year-old son, Andy, blaze his own path. It turns out he’s every bit as much of a creature of the road as I was in my twenties. For half the year, Andy basically lives on the road in Europe — sleeping in hostels and running his student tour business out of cafes that offer free Wi-Fi with a drink. We crossed paths in Florence and hung out together for a few days. He even got a cameo in one of my TV episodes (joining us for a dinner on film). When it was time for him to head out, he dropped by my hotel room to say goodbye. Hugging Andy, loaded up with all his gear, I marveled at this young man’s physical and emotional strength. Afterward, from my third story hotel room window, I secretly watched him walk across the Piazza S.S. Annunziata, and plunge back into his backpacker world. It was a meaningful moment: My son travels with a fresh spirit, curiosity and boundless energy that I find inspiring.
My TV crew and I are often charged a lot of money to film inside great museums and palaces on days when they are closed to the public. While sometimes a headache, this comes with the joy of being all alone with great art. This past year I’ve been aroused (artistically) while alone with Klimt’s Kiss in Vienna. In Paris, I’ve stood silent and solitary in the splendor of the glorious, gothic Sainte-Chapelle, the mysterious Mona Lisa, and the exquisite Unicorn Tapestry. In Italy, I’ve been all alone with a room full of Botticelli paintings, with Bernini’s Apollo Chasing Daphne, with Leonardo’s Last Supper, and with two masterful Davids — Donatello’s and Michelangelo’s. Each experience was a kind of artistic climax, leaving me craving a cigarette.
I’ve never spent much time fantasizing about parachuting or hang gliding. I’ve accepted the notion that if God wanted me to fly, he’d have given me wings. I’m happy to be on the ground. But this summer I learned that even if I wasn’t blessed with wings, I’ve got an abundance of hot air and you can fly quite well with little more than that. I’ve always loved Cappadocia in Central Turkey. And this summer, while enjoying one of our Turkey tours, I joined the group for a majestic hot air balloon ride over the fairy chimneys of that exotic landscape. From the moment our basket slipped from land borne to air borne, I gazed in wonder, mesmerized, at the erosion-shaped stretch of Anatolia so steeped in memories of the struggles of civilization after civilization that have called this land home. Suspended gracefully over Cappadocia, I felt perfectly safe, at peace, delighted to put my fate in the hands of our Turkish captain.
For years I’ve visited Hadrian’s Wall, the remains of the fortification the Romans built 1800 years ago to mark the northern end of their empire, where Britannia stopped and where the barbarian land that would someday be Scotland began. But I never ventured beyond the National Trust properties, the museums, and viewpoints from various car parks. This year, cameraman in tow, I grabbed a sunny late afternoon to actually hike the wall. When you’re scrambling along Roman ruins, all alone with the sound of the wind, surveying vast expanses of Britain from rocky crags that seem to rip across that island (like a snapshot freezing some horrific geological violence in mid-action) you need to take a moment and simply absorb your setting. As my cameraman did his work, I did just that.
Great teachers are heroes to me. They’ve shined lights where I had been in darkness. They’ve inspired me with things I’d thought were mundane. While their teaching must seem repetitive to them, with each student they get renewed, recognizing a need and filling it. Great teachers teach with passion and love. And they do it long past a normal retirement age, as if it is their purpose on this planet. One of these teachers is Malcolm Miller at Chartres. For thirty years I’ve been coming to see “Malcolm’s” great cathedral, its spires rising above the fields as I approach it from a distance. My heart leaps at the sight, as did the hearts of approaching pilgrims centuries ago. I come to Chartres on a kind of pilgrimage of my own…to be a student again...to be inspired. Twice a day, Malcolm Miller still meets with small groups of curious travelers. He sits them down on pews in front of his stained-glass “window of the day” and, as if opening a book, tells the story that window was created to tell. There, in Europe’s most magnificently decorated Gothic cathedral, Malcolm Miller gives voice to otherwise silent masterpieces of that age. This past year I was again in the front row, eager as a teacher’s pet, learning from Malcolm Miller.
Coming from a picnicking, backpacker travel heritage, it’s taken me decades to recognize the value of a fine meal. Now, I can enthusiastically embrace a long, drawn-out “splurge meal” as a wonderful investment in time and money. I traveled through France this past summer with my buddy (and co-author of our France guidebook) Steve Smith. After each long day of research, we treated ourselves to the best meal in town, dedicated to the notion that you’re not really paying $50 for the food — it’s a three-hour sensual experience that happens to include your evening’s nourishment. Describing the very best meal of our trip — from start to finish, in elaborate detail — was a productive writing exercise. It not only gave me a great Facebook entry…it trained me to eat with sensory abandon.
Returning to the same places year after year is not the best way to broaden my repertoire of travel delights that I hope to share with my readers. So my guidebook research has evolved into a system where I send a trusted fellow researcher into a town ahead of me to update all the nitty-gritty on restaurants, hotels, museums, prices and transportation ins-and-outs. I can then devote my limited time to what I call “living” the town or destination: climb the spire, rent a bike, enjoy a sunset drink at that bar with a view, join fans at the soccer stadium, and so on. Visiting my favorite village in the Swiss Alps this past summer, it occurred to me that I’d already ridden the lifts and hiked all the trails around Gimmelwald. But there was one experience listed in our book that I had yet to do personally: traverse the cliff-side cable-way called the Via Ferrata. So, my friend Olle and I pulled on mountaineering harnesses and clipped our carabineers onto the first stretch of a three kilometer-long cable, setting off with a local guide on the “iron way” from Murren to Gimmelwald. The route does not follow the top of the cliff that separates the high country from Lauterbrunnen Valley — it takes you along the very side of the cliff, like a tiny window-washer on a geologic skyscraper. The “trail” ahead of me was a series of steel rebar spikes jutting out from the side of the cliff. The cable, carabineer and harness were there in case I passed out. For me, physically, this was the max. I was almost numb with fear. After one particularly harrowing crossing — gingerly taking one rebar step after another — I said to the guide, “Okay, now it gets easier?” And he said, “No. Now comes Die Hammer Ecke (Hammer Corner)!” For a couple hundred meters we crept across a perfectly vertical cliff face — feet gingerly gripping rebar steps, cold and raw hands on the cable, tiny cows and a rushing river 2000 feet below me, a rock face rocketing directly above me with my follow-the-cable horizontal path bending out of sight in either direction. When we finally reached the end and I unclipped my carabineer for the last time, I hugged our guide like a full-body high-five, knowing this was an experience of a lifetime. For the next several nights I awoke in the wee hours, clutching my mattress.
Thoughtful, rewarding travel goes way beyond collecting famous sights. It’s leaving our comfort zones to have experiences that surprise, thrill, challenge, enrich and inspire us. These create insights and memories that we’ll forever treasure. So raise a glass. Here’s to — for all of us and those we love — a heaping helping of rewarding travel moments in 2012.
Comments
8 Replies to “My Favorite Travel Moments in 2011”
I remember my visit to Hadrian’s Wall. The remnants of a Carribean hurricane was hitting the UK. You could see the showers coming and I was at Housesteads huddling under a ledge near the Roman latrines. I felt th Roman soldier’s pain. ; )
Hi…. i just visited your site and after going deeply in your site i see you have very valuable contents posted. It looks great and i love your site.
took Malcolm’s tour on your guide books advice almost 10 yrs ago and can still recall part of his “class” it confirmed one my 2 iron rules of travel in Europe ..one: if a English ex-pat is giving a tour take it ..and two: if French people are eating in a restaurant get a table …. i can still remember Malcolm ending the tour reminding us his book was for sale in the gift shop saying ..”if I dont tell you who will ? “
Great images; they really paint the picture of the travel experience.
Like Rick I too go to Europe each year. I try to go to a new place each time and then spend a few days in a favorite town (mine are Rothenburg and Garmisch in Germany). There I will go to the old favorite restaurants but always find time to go to at least one new one which may become a favorite. And each time I will seek out something new to see or experience like a drive on gravel country roads, a hike through the gorge in Garmisch or around the lake below Ludwig’s castle near Fussen. I’m never bored with Europe. I watch Rick for new places to see or experiences I can try. He is a great act to follow.
Any idea on which part of Hadrian’s Wall the picture was taken? My wife and I will be driving from York to Glasgow and plan to stop at Homesteads Roman Fort and Vindolanda but would like to hike for an hour or so along a nice part of the Wall.
I have to comment on one experience I had in Europe back in the 70’s as a first time traveler to Ludwig’s castle…after a rather difficult climb from the parking lot at the bottom of the mountain I saw the castle and realized I also saw cars passing in front of me. I then realized I could have driven my rental car up to the top…oh well…live and learn!! Not to mention the little bearded man dressed in liederhosen who gladly posed for a picture with us…we thought he just “happened along”. Right!! After we paid him a little we realized this is his “job” to pretend he just happened along…!! LOL!
But being a pass rider with the airline I worked for, we traveled Europe by the “seat of our pants” and are glad we survived it all!!
I’ve noticed some comments from RS tour customers about their guide preferences. Personally, I find British ex-pats to be the best no matter what country they are guiding in. There is a wanderlust in the Brits (and also maybe the bad weather in the British Isles) which drives them to explore many exotic places around the globe. Add their droll sense of humor, their ability to communicate exceptionally well in English, and their insights as non-natives to their host countries and you get a window to a country that locals often can’t match. Rick Steves is the rare American who can also offer those insights.
I remember my visit to Hadrian’s Wall. The remnants of a Carribean hurricane was hitting the UK. You could see the showers coming and I was at Housesteads huddling under a ledge near the Roman latrines. I felt th Roman soldier’s pain. ; )
Hi…. i just visited your site and after going deeply in your site i see you have very valuable contents posted. It looks great and i love your site.
took Malcolm’s tour on your guide books advice almost 10 yrs ago and can still recall part of his “class” it confirmed one my 2 iron rules of travel in Europe ..one: if a English ex-pat is giving a tour take it ..and two: if French people are eating in a restaurant get a table …. i can still remember Malcolm ending the tour reminding us his book was for sale in the gift shop saying ..”if I dont tell you who will ? “
Great images; they really paint the picture of the travel experience.
Like Rick I too go to Europe each year. I try to go to a new place each time and then spend a few days in a favorite town (mine are Rothenburg and Garmisch in Germany). There I will go to the old favorite restaurants but always find time to go to at least one new one which may become a favorite. And each time I will seek out something new to see or experience like a drive on gravel country roads, a hike through the gorge in Garmisch or around the lake below Ludwig’s castle near Fussen. I’m never bored with Europe. I watch Rick for new places to see or experiences I can try. He is a great act to follow.
Any idea on which part of Hadrian’s Wall the picture was taken? My wife and I will be driving from York to Glasgow and plan to stop at Homesteads Roman Fort and Vindolanda but would like to hike for an hour or so along a nice part of the Wall.
I have to comment on one experience I had in Europe back in the 70’s as a first time traveler to Ludwig’s castle…after a rather difficult climb from the parking lot at the bottom of the mountain I saw the castle and realized I also saw cars passing in front of me. I then realized I could have driven my rental car up to the top…oh well…live and learn!! Not to mention the little bearded man dressed in liederhosen who gladly posed for a picture with us…we thought he just “happened along”. Right!! After we paid him a little we realized this is his “job” to pretend he just happened along…!! LOL!
But being a pass rider with the airline I worked for, we traveled Europe by the “seat of our pants” and are glad we survived it all!!
I’ve noticed some comments from RS tour customers about their guide preferences. Personally, I find British ex-pats to be the best no matter what country they are guiding in. There is a wanderlust in the Brits (and also maybe the bad weather in the British Isles) which drives them to explore many exotic places around the globe. Add their droll sense of humor, their ability to communicate exceptionally well in English, and their insights as non-natives to their host countries and you get a window to a country that locals often can’t match. Rick Steves is the rare American who can also offer those insights.