Always Learning the Curve
If you haven’t subscribed, please do. If you want to share this, please do! My next post here will more than likely be the first excerpt from my book about my travels, but that might be closer to the weekend.
Featured today are all photos from my stay in Crete, Greece, where I spent this month in 2018 (and fell in love with Greece even more).
I’m lucky these days, because my back problems have greatly improved since my nomad days, but anyone with a goofy back’ll tell ya there’s no assurances that the luck holds out.
So, I’ve had one of those weeks that took a turn and the last 36 hours or so have been Bad Back City. (I have escaped Bad Back City of late. Yay.)
The thing is, time changes the lens, you know? As our circumstances change, so should our perspective.
Bad back city ain’t a good place to visit, but it’s a good reminder of how tough things were when I was abroad, when my back took a turn. I couldn’t just go “Oh, I’d better visit the chiro next week.” I couldn’t change my surroundings to try to feel better, or grab the ice bag from the freezer, and so on.
Those are the aspects of being abroad that people don’t think about when they’re fantasizing about being a nomad. There are so many “day to day realities” that don’t even pop into your head.
Let’s play a game of “what if.”
Let’s pretend you’re the nomad.
Photo: Rethymno, Crete in March 2018. Lovely town. Wysteria — always makes me think of Mom, and man, she’d have loved roadtripping Crete with me.
You Gather No Moss
You’re not on vacation, you’re a nomad. So, you don’t have four months to read up on your destination because it’s your once-a-year holiday and you are researching ALL THE THINGS.
No, it’s just the latest in the countries you’re moving between before your visas run out. That’s the thing, right? You’re always on a ticking clock for when your legal right to be in that country expires. Landed visas range between one and three months for most countries – depending what nation’s passport you have.
When that calendar date flips, you gotta be gone. And when it comes to places like Thailand, they’re sick of your shit, Westie. You’d better have an exit plan, even exit tickets. Western travellers think they’re entitled to stay because they’re spending money and living it up.
Chuckle. That’s rich. And that’s white. No, you’re not entitled to stay, Chet.
They only want you for 30 to 90 days, then you become as much a drain on the system as anyone, except you’re not paying taxes to drain their system, and nomads need to know that.
Photo: Locals chatting over produce. This is what I miss most from abroad. I loved street markets in the Mediterranean.
Westerners Have Money But We Ain’t All That
You’re not as special as you think you are. Just like you don’t want foreigners using your civic services in your home nation indefinitely, foreign nations consider you a burden beyond 30 days too. White skin doesn’t change that, either.
When I returned to Thailand at the land crossing after 28 days in Siem Reap, Cambodia, it was an ORDEAL. They wanted proof of my exit plan and evidence I had tickets and everything. Getting approved for re-entry was challenging, but all I was doing was staying one night on the edge of Bangkok before flying to Greece.
With services allowing people to buy travel tickets then cancel without fees in a short, specified period, even exit tickets that have been bought recent to your arrival at a customs officer’s desk are viewed with suspicion. There are no guarantees you’ll be admitted, and you have no right to expect it. Luckily, I emails for plane tickets both to Greece and in Greece, and even a lodging paid for in Crete.
Pro Tip: Always have snapshots of your tickets and stuff, but also make sure you can access emails as proof without an Internet or WiFi connection. They are not required to ensure you have web access to prove you are a worthy admissions risk, and you thinking you’re entitled to at least that would be a silly, privileged point of view. We’re entitled to jack when we’re in their country, so the better you remember that, the more likely you will avoid getting in trouble. Be respectful and assume nothing.
Photo: I’d meant to travel to Bali in Autumn 2017, but after several months of poor air quality, when their volcano blew, I ate some lost travel fees and changed to Thailand instead. But turns out I made it to Bali after all… Bali, Greece!
Time is Precious: Live Now, Not the Next Location
But, anyhow, it’s just the next country you, our Pretend Nomad, are visiting.
You’ve been speaking, well, say, Cambodian phrases for the last month. You’ve been learning about life on Ton Le Sap and reading the history of the Khmer Kingdom. But mostly, you’ve just been on Cambodian time, living in the moment.
Do you really think you’ve had time to look up stuff like how hospitals work in Greece, or even phrases to use? Heck, just finding a studio to rent was time-consuming enough, and you’ve got shit to see in Cambodia, because you’re THERE NOW and maybe you’ll never get back there again!
When you’re a working nomad logging 30-60 hours of work weekly, aside from looking up where to live and how to get there, you likely don’t have time to learn phrases, customs, the things to see, and all that kind of stuff about the next location you’re heading toward. And you’re not stupid enough to waste your time on the future when you’re living in the present.
Many nomads just arrive and learn stuff on the fly. I know I did.
Photo: Greatest invention for travelling ever: Google Maps. Always download maps for off-line use and mark important places on the map before you get there — especially when you’re talking about places with different alphabets, like Cyrillic and Greek and Anything Asian. On this day, I was just wandering the ancient streets of Heraklion, with an aspiration of stumbling on some grilled lamb somewhere. Random walk/wander/discover days were my favourite, and a worthy reason to buy SIM cards everywhere, because it meant I’d always have a connection and could find myself in Maps.
Aha! New Place, New Customs
There you are, Imaginary Nomad, newly arrived in Greece. Your back is killing you after the 14-hour bus trip to Bangkok, overnight in a hostel, a layover in Singapore, the flight to Athens, the flight to Crete, and the 40-minute cab ride you just took. It was 48 hours of hell, but you’re here, and all you want is to eat and not be in pain. You’re on a budget, you’re not quite sure how expensive everything is here yet, and you don’t know how to get around yet.
There’s no ice pack in the fridge and that’s not changing, because you’re damn well not carrying an extra 2 pounds for an ice pack when you’re constantly worrying about making weight on checked-in luggage for flights. And you forgot your yoga mat in the corner of your Siem Reap guestroom.
So, what do you do for your back?
Call up a masseuse? Okay, sure. Which one? How do you know they’re any good? How do you know they’re safe? Because I got sexually assaulted by one who fondled my vajayjay in Bulgaria, and he had good reviews. But you’re a tourist, so you’re treated differently from locals. Often, you’re charged more, too.
What if that happens to you, some masseuse groping you? Do you report it to cops? Probably not, because you know they’re likely corrupt and it’s a patriarchal society anyhow. You’re just a visitor, you don’t want to rock the boat.
Okay, so maybe you have a different medical problem, and should go to emergency. Easy-peasy, right?
Photo: Greece in a nutshell. Ugly modern architecture on the left: Check. Statue remnants from Ancient Greece? Check. Arabic architecture from Ottoman invaders? Check. Downtown Heraklion, Crete. They held off the Ottoman invaders for decades, with one of the most impressive civic defense walls ever built in Europe, and a wonderful wall to spend a day walking atop! When I say “wall,” it’s as much as 200 feet wide in parts, so it’s park-like all along the top of the centuries-old wall.
New Country = New Learning Curve
Well, turns out that if you’re in Morocco, you’re expected to bring your own bedding to the hospital. Nope, not kidding.
And in Greece, emergency wards are not open every day. They’re on rotating schedules. And if you’re a woman with womanny things to investigate, it’s possibly a specific hospital on specific days. Do you know which one to take? Are you comfortable telling your host what’s wrong?
Pro Tip for Women: Medical scare? Look for a well-stocked pharmacy that has professional-looking women working the counter. Pharmacies are amazing in most countries. If you need medical treatment, ask female pharmacists the best place to go for immediate help, and for any advice navigating the hospital system.
And you’re a polite North American, right, Imaginary Nomad? You’re an ambassador for your people, so you’re on the best behaviour. You’ll go to that hospital and just wait your turn, because that’s why they literally assign you a number, right?
Pfft, good luck with that. There’s a reason there’s no one pushier than a Greek or Italian granny trying to get ahead of you in line. You’d best be advocating for yourself in that foreign hospital… but make sure you don’t get too brazen, because you need them to be empathetic to you, don’t you?
There is SO MUCH you have NO CLUE about when you’re new to a country and you’re there for only a month or two. If you’re lucky, it’ll be another uneventful experience and you’ll be just fine.
Photo: Walking home at night in Heraklion. If there’s any country I’d like to move to, it’s Greece… even if the medical system can be bizarre (but affordable and good).
Nomadic Life = Playing the Odds
Folks on vacation are also living a life on the odds. Odds are, they won’t need a hospital. Odds are, it’ll be smooth going. After all, with just a week or two or three abroad every year, what are the chances that’s the week the fit’s gonna hit the shan? Not likely, right?
But, as a nomad, month in, month out, sooner or later, something goes wrong. Sure did for me.
Then there’s exciting Normal Stuff, like needing dental care. What country is best for that? And which practitioner? What are the risks? Will your medical insurance cover it if a dental visit goes wrong? Can you afford it, if they don’t?
Sooner or later, every nomad has a story. And, if they’re lucky, someone helped them get out of that jam. But it’s not always a happy ending. It was for me, thank goodness. (Be nice to people. You never know when they’ll save your ass.)
Photo: But sometimes you take risks anyhow, because reward. This was when I gambled on driving high into the mountains on my own in Crete. Only one car was at the other end. I sat alone in a cafe with this view for a half hour. It was stunning.
Everyday Annoyances and Challenges
But life’s complicated on a macro level abroad too. In Laos, I had AirBNB hosts who were useless and it took me nearly a whole day to find a cell SIM card and get it fired up, because no one knew how, and no one cared to help me. It was the worst start to any country I’d been in.
And what about when you’ve had a shit day and you just want to order dinner? Good luck with that.
There are still places that don’t have addresses. When I was in Naxos, Greece, there were no house numbers, no addresses. You just remembered what your door looked like.
Food delivery? Ha. Yeah. No. Put your shoes on, honey, you’re taking a walk.
In Mexico, I had the worst time trying to get a pizza delivered from Dominos, which I’d normally never order and only did because I was so excited that they had online ordering. No habla espanol! (I tried, but my accent is so bad and pronunciation is so off that I could understand what people said sometimes, but I was incomprehensible to them.)
Over two hours of trying to get the pizza ensued because the address turned out to be one of three same addresses in different parts of the town; I apparently didn’t use the right descriptor (street versus avenue, etc.) for my road. All that grief for Dominos. It was a sad night.
Photo: My weekend getaway came with heavy rain and few breaks. I arrogantly assumed I’d be able to get a taxi home in bad weather but the taxis refused to enter the Old Town and I was stuck getting drenched. As lovely as this photo is, I had packed light and wound up having to dry my only pair of jeans in my AirBNB OVEN without setting them on fire. The story behind the photo.
But… Sometimes, Victory!
It was Sarajevo, Bosnia where I finally got to use an online ordering system for food – when still recovering from surgery – and it was glorious. It was called Donesi. (Just happens to be pronounced “Done Easy”? Ha! Fitting, that.)
In fact, Sarajevo even had the best hamburger I ever ate abroad, and when that burger and steak-cut fries arrived delivered, still hot, it tasted like glorious victory. GLORIOUS VICTORY. I could have done cartwheels around my studio suite that night. She is Steffani, Victorious Food-Orderer of Delicious Burgery Goodness, and you will bow to her!
I remember other weird things that felt victorious for me – like finding Kra-Z Glue in Central Mexico. Locating a camera flash card in rural Turkey. Finding sanitary napkins in Morocco. (When visiting extremely patriarchal countries, do not arrive unsupplied, ladies.) Gambling on food labels I couldn’t read and successfully / accidentally getting the right product – an activity that played itself out in every single country.
So yesterday’s back pain? Yeah, we don’t like that. But what we do like is knowing how to adjust my chair (or even having an adjustable chair!) and having an ice bag in the fridge and a car-share membership and a comfortable home and food delivery options, and even a chiropractor I know and trust.
Photo: Greek roadtrip: Achievement Unlocked. There’s a lot to love about roadtripping in Europe, but it’s not for the mild-mannered roadie. Half the Europeans drive like they’re aiming for a victory in Formula One racing.
Luckily, Good People Outnumber the Bad
People think the biggest thing you’ll be grateful for when you get home as a nomad is having your own bed. That might be partly true, but probably the biggest thing is just knowing what to do when something goes wrong. It’s hard enough to solve your problems when you speak the language and know the system, but at least you have the wherewithal to make it happen. Abroad, there’s a powerlessness that’s constantly in the background, where you know you’ll always be at the mercy of someone local, for them to be kind and trustworthy.
Luckily, I could likely count on just two hands the number of times my trust was betrayed or I was taken advantage of in some way while abroad.
I’d run out of ways to count how many times people were kinder to me than I could have anticipated – the Albanian store who refunded the over $300 I accidentally overpaid for wine when I noticed it some 48 hours later, the Scottish woman who walked me off the bus to where I was going, the Moroccans who cleaned my wound when I fell down outside their café, the Portuguese waiter who ran after me for a block when I forgot my camera (and who likely earned under $1000 USD a month), and so very many other people.
When you opt to give up creature comforts for a life of nomadism, you are giving up far more comforts than you’ll ever be able to anticipate. And there are myriad little details you’ll never expect either. (Like, you must weigh and price your veggies yourself in many countries. Show up at the till without having done so and the wrath you will incur from those in line behind you, ooh. Don’t want that.)
But at the end of all that, I was a lucky traveller. Usually, I found good people.
Thanks for reading!
Member discussion