Christmas in Hawaii: 5 steps to surviving the holidays alone on an island

As a New Englander, it’s hard to imagine Christmas without snow and bitter cold. Almost. There’s something to be said for a “white Christmas”, but there’s also something to be said for Mai Tai’s on the beach in Hawaii. There’s nothing like pine trees draped in snow; then again, there’s something great about a Christmas tree standing between two palm trees and tiki torches.

When I first told people I was going to Hawaii for Christmas I was flooded with concerned responses.

“Alone?”
“By yourself?”
“Are you suuuuure?”

My response to each question was a resounding “Yes.” I was going to Hawaii – L’anai to be exact – for 10 days, part of which would spend on hotel reviews and the other half would be a much-needed vacation. It was an end of the year gift to myself on a Hawaiian island so small, most people don’t even know it exists.

I arrived on L’anai via ferry from Maui and was immediately escorted by hotel shuttle to the Four Seasons L’anai, Manele Bay. There are three hotels on the island: two Four Seasons hotels, and one 10-room inn, Hotel L’anai. Within seconds I realized why everyone was so intrigued by my solo travel plans to Hawaii: there is no “party of one” here. Amid the honeymooners and families – and one huge corporate event – there was me. I suddenly became determined to rid everyone of the stigma associated with traveling alone. I’m not depressed, dumped or recently divorced – I just want a vacation.

So, how does a solo traveler enjoy the holidays alone on one of the most secluded and romantic islands in the states? Easy.1. Don’t think of it as ‘alone’, think of it as ‘on holiday without everyone else.’ Back home they are layered in scarves and mittens, fighting over who sits where around the dinner table, and packing in last-minute shopping at the overcrowded malls. You’re sitting on a beach with a cocktail and someone else is do the cooking (tip: The Ocean Grill at Four Season’s Manele Bay makes a great burger!). Enjoy.

2. Request a corner room or room far away from the center of the hotel. This will ensure a little more quiet and you won’t be in the middle of honeymoon and family vacation traffic. If possible, get a room with a balcony. Some of my best moments so far on this trip have been enjoying a morning cup of coffee on my balcony at Manele Bay watching the sunrise over the Hawaiian islands.

3. Choose a hotel with plenty of on-site options and connections to the community. At some point, you’ll want more than the beach. On L’anai, the Four Seasons has two resorts: a beach resort (Manele) and a mountain resort (Koele). Guests of either hotel have access to the other hotel and its activities. I’ve been horseback riding through the mountains, hiking on some of the most beautiful trails, and attended an art show, all thanks to the connections of the hotel.

4. Make friends with the locals. Cliche as it may seem, making friends with the locals can be the difference between feeling sorry for yourself and belting out Journey’s “Separate Ways” and an all-night karaoke bar (not that I’ve done that, mind you). While on L’anai, make sure you stop by Hotel L’anai for their live band every Friday night. It’s the best on the island, and because you’re family when you walk in, you can spend all night at your table just enjoying the music (and likely sharing a glass of wine with the owners). Tip: Stay for dinner and order the truffled mac-and-cheese, venison or filet. The comfort food of this grill won’t let you down.

5. Find a volunteer opportunity and donate your time. No matter where you choose to spend your holiday, there’s a soup kitchen, senior center or shelter that needs your support. Ask the hotel for a local volunteer group contact, or connect with the visitors center in the area to learn about volunteer opportunities. This year, I’ll be handing out “wish gifts” to children on L’anai and serving breakfast Christmas morning at the local senior center. There’s no gift greater than a smile you receive from those you’re helping. Their gratitude will make you forget you’re flying solo for the holidays – in fact, you’ll feel as if you’ve just inherited a family.

Lastly, don’t forget to unwrap something for yourself on Christmas morning. As one friend once said to me, “Even if it’s a new toothbrush, it counts as something to open!” Wrap a small gift to yourself and tuck it your suitcase. Whether it’s a scarf you purchased on your last trip, a pair of earrings you forgot you owned, or a new book you’ve been waiting to read, you’ll find a simple joy in unwrapping a present to yourself. And in the event you forget to give yourself a gift, never fear: at least you have a new toothbrush.

Aloha from Hawaii!

Foreign “safety vernacular” for women

There is, as they say, a time and place for everything. And sometimes, ladies, that occurs when you’re traveling. I encourage anyone who travels to a foreign country to learn a few key phrases and learn a bit about the place, in order to avoid cultural faux pas. Even something as innocuous as patting a child on the head in Thailand is considered a grievous offense, because the head is considered the the highest (and thus most sacred) part of the body.

It’s also bad form to lose your temper in Asia and other parts of the world, because it goes against cultural mores. But what to do when your safety is threatened, or if you’re being relentlessly hit upon?

It’s for this reason that I’ve developed what I like to call “safety vernacular” in a variety of languages. While I speak Spanish, I only know the aforementioned key phrases in other tongues: “please,” “thank you,” “what’s your name,” “where’s the bathroom?” But I also know how to swear like a banshee, and employ the varying degrees of “Get lost” that range from polite to, “If you don’t get out of my face now, you’re going to lose your testicles.”Now, you’re probably asking, “Is that really necessary?” Yes, it is. And it just may save your life.

What you say, and how you say it — as well as how you physically react — depends upon where you’re traveling. Sometimes it’s best to just ignore your harasser and move on. You don’t want to make a bad situation worse by responding aggressively in a country where women simply don’t act that way/where it could further encourage or antagonize your would-be attacker or paramour. And please, follow your guidebook’s advice on appropriate dress — not only will it help you blend in (inasmuch as that’s possible); it’s also a matter of cultural respect. Leave the Daisy Dukes at home, and pack a bra. While it doesn’t help in the vernacular department, a great book for cultural advice is Behave Yourself! The essential guide to international etiquette, by Michael Powell.

From chikan to “Eve-teasing”

Let’s take Tokyo’s Metro. It’s infamous for acts of chikan, or frotteurism, and foreigners aren’t exempt. Please note this doesn’t mean all Japanese men are evil perverts, or that riding the subway in Japan means you’re going to get felt up. But put it this way: it’s become such an issue that some railway companies in Japan designate women-only cars during peak hours.

Anyway. Japan is a country where it’s imperative not to “lose face.” Screaming at a frotteur and smacking him across the face, while perhaps the appropriate response, isn’t going to fly. Instead, find a guidebook that will tell you how best to deal with the situation, as well as provide you with a handy phrase to thwart it. “Eve-teasing” is a similar form of public harassment prevalent in India, as are open, leering stares. The best way to handle it is to ignore the stares, seek the company of other (local) women on public transit, or to call out your harasser in a crowd — public humiliation is very effective in India.

On how phrasebooks can help

It is for these situations that I swear by Lonely Planet Phrasebooks. They’re published in just about every language a traveler would require: Swahili to Southeast Asian hill tribe dialects; Basque to Mongolian. Not only do these little books offer cultural tidbits, but they’re packed with appropriate emergency phrases ranging from “Help!” “I’ve been raped,” and “How do I find the ____ embassy?” to sections on “Dating and Romance,” “Cultural Differences,” and “Specific Needs” travel. The various authors also have a great sense of (albeit dark) humor.

For example: the Spanish Phrasebook (Spain/Basque) offers these two gems: Por favor, deje de molestarme (Please stop hassling me), and Estoy aqui con mi esposo (I’m here with my husband). There are also phrases for “Do you have a condom?” and, “I might be in a wheelchair, but I’m not stupid!” See, very handy. The Portuguese Phrasebook also contains, in the “Making Love/Afterwards” section, “Would you like a cigarette?” and, “I think you should leave now.”

And some real-world examples…

But we’re talking safety here, and not the kind a condom can protect you from (although do take some with you; you really don’t want to be purchasing them in developing nations with less-regulated testing standards). In Italy and Latin America, the local women have no problem telling annoying men where to get off, and you should follow suit. I always make a point of saying I have a husband (it’s somewhat more effective than “boyfriend,” and I learned my lesson the one time I said I was a lesbian to a pesky Italian in a bar. “Aah!” he cried with delight, “Leccamento il fico! (“licking the fig”).”)

Anyhoo. I’ve found that said pesky Italians are best met with a loud, “Vaffanculo, stronzo (“Fu*k off, di*khead!)!” Once, in a dodgy situation in Mexico, I screamed, “Largate! O patear las bolas!” According to the Mexican friend who taught me all the bad (and safety) words I know en espanol, if said forcefully, this slang translates as, “Fu*k off! Or I’ll kick you in the balls!” Whatever; it worked. So did the use of “Get lost!” in Arabic to two sketchy boys who stalked me while I was lost in a Marrakesh souk.

So there you have it. Don’t go looking for trouble, but don’t invite trouble by looking (and acting) like a victim. A little pre-trip research, and keeping your wits about you on the road will go a long way toward ensuring you come home with nothing more than great memories and all of your valuables.

Five reasons why life on the road doesn’t suck

A few days ago our roving reporter in China talked about “Five reasons why life on the road can really suck.” Her points were:
1. It can be difficult to make deeper connections with people.
2. People at home go on with their lives, and you become less and less a part of them.
3. Sometimes it feels like your life is standing still.
4. You can’t commit to any one thing, and so never experience anything fully
5. You continually have experiences that you simply can’t convey to folks who aren’t with you.

Valid points, every one of them, but I think her epic Chinese bus tour has left her a little worn out because there’s a positive flip side to each of these.

1. You can make deeper connections with people, it’s just harder (and therefore more worthwhile).

It’s true that being on the road means you usually don’t stay long enough to make lasting relationships, but that’s not always the case. If you settle down for a few days or weeks you can get to know some of the local people and you can keep in touch with them after you go. I was doing this even before everyone had email, and it’s a whole lot easier now. Sometimes people pop up out of your past totally unexpected. I made a good friend in Quetta, Pakistan, who I corresponded with for a couple of years. Eventually that correspondence faded away, but just this year he Googled me and got in touch! He lives in Europe now so we may even get to meet up.

2. If you and some of your friends drift apart, so be it.

Nothing lasts forever, not friends, not relationships, not even travel. We either move apart or we die (oh, that was cheery!). Travel brings new perspectives, a new lifestyle, and new associations. Yes, some of those old connections may fade away, but if you choose to have a different lifestyle than they do, perhaps that’s not such a bad thing. And the real friends will always be there.

3. Your life is never standing still.
It just may not be progressing along the same lines as the clock-punchers back home. If you choose to spend your twenties wandering the world like I did, your thirties will probably not be as financially stable as some of your friends’, nor will your career be as advanced, unless, of course, your career is tied to travel. I went from being an archaeologist to a writer, so I was able to make my career progress while on the road. If I had wanted to be a lawyer or manage a company, I’d be screwed.

4. Give your trip focus, and you will experience things fully.

Travelers, no matter how leisurely they explore a country, are still just passing through. Despite having wandered all over Damascus I never saw it except in winter. Is it much different in springtime? I don’t know. I also haven’t seen its great transformation after the huge influx of Iraqi refugees. On the other hand, I have a sound knowledge of Islamic architecture and medieval castles, two big interests of mine. All through my travels in the Middle East I went to every mosque or castle I could find. That was my continuity, that and endless cups of tea during endless conversations in an endless string of cafes. Good conversationalists, the Arabs.

5. It’s OK to keep some memories for yourself.

It would be nice to fully share all our travel experiences with our loved ones, but to do that they’d have to come along for the ride, and even then their experiences would be different because they have different perceptions. We’re each on our own road through this life, whether we’re world travelers or couch potatoes. You can’t share everything with everybody. In fact, some of my most treasured travel memories are incidents I’ve never told anyone because they would never believe me!

A final note
Catherine, sooner or later there’s a fork in the road and we choose one way or the other. If we haven’t gone too far down one way we can always scurry back and try to catch up with the folks on the other path. I’ve known some people who did that.
Or we can forge on ahead. Every choice has its pluses and minuses, even being a globetrotting writer has its downsides. Believe me, I know. But I’ve never regretted my decision, and I have the feeling you haven’t either.
So don’t despair, you just have a case of the traveler’s blues. We all get it, but the road will offer up an instant cure with some magnificent sight or encounter. It’s probably done that for you already.

Five reasons why life on the road can really suck

Whenever I tell people my latest travel plans, I usually get the same response: “Oh, you’re so lucky – I wish I could do that.” What they don’t realize is that they can do that — I’ve made travel a priority and set my life up around it. I could have made a nice down payment on a house in my late twenties, but I chose to spend the money on a round-the-world-trip, for example. But despite the perceived glamor (or luckiness) of someone who leads a nomadic life, there are times when never being in one place for long can really suck. Here are five reasons:

1. It can be difficult to make deeper connections with people. When you’re just passing through, you’re just passing through. The older I get, the more I feel this — sure, I make friends easily, but the odds of ever meeting up with people again are slim. It makes me sad.

2. People at home go on with their lives, and you become less and less a part of them. With Facebook, I’m privy to all the fun I’m missing at home. I always reconnect easily with my best friends, but seeing the the photos of celebrations and reading the status updates of those having cozy holidays can intensify the loneliness that my solo travel occasionally leads to.

3. Sometimes it feels like your life is standing still. Everyone else is doing age-appropriate things like having babies and advancing their careers. Suddenly, most of my friends have decent salaries and guest rooms – weird. I’m still sleeping in budget hotels and living out of the same backpack I bought six years ago.
4. You can’t commit to any one thing, and so never experience anything fully. This is kind of related to #1, but it has more to it than just connecting to people. I’m only in Kunming for three months, for example, so I’m not going to buy a bike and get to know the city and its surrounds as well as I could. Equally, I’m not going to learn as much Mandarin as I would if I’d committed to a longer stay. I’ll just get a little sample of everything, and then move on.

5. You continually have experiences that you simply can’t convey to folks who aren’t with you. Just as everyone back home is moving on, you too are living a life no one else can relate to. That’s one reason why Kraig suggested that those who travel without their significant others experience a high rate of breakups. I’m constantly overwhelmed with the scents, sounds, and sights that are impossible to communicate fully. Can anyone really understand what it’s like to see entire hillsides terraced by hand, smell piss and oil and spices all at once, or feel air so humid it feels like you’re wearing it? You just have to be there.

Of course, I have to qualify that for all the reasons life on the road can be hard, there are many more reasons why it’s wonderful. I’m paraphrasing from memory here when I recall Elizabeth Gilbert’s passage in one of her early chapters of Eat, Pray, Love, but it’s one that really spoke to me: “I feel about travel the way a new mother feels about her restless, colicky, newborn baby – I just don’t care what it puts me through. It can barf all over me and I will still love it.”

Hence, I’m still on the road.

To read more about my life in China, click here.

Do solo adventures break up relationships?

Outside Magazine has an interesting story on their website entitled Never, Ever Let Her Go (On a trip overseas. Alone. Especially to Africa.) The article begins with author Eric Hansen recounting a tale of a married couple who were friends of his, and seemingly had an idyllic marriage. But when the wife went off to Botswana on a volunteer trip for a month, she returned home and announced that the marriage was over, and she now longer was attracted to her husband.

When telling this story to others, Hansen discovered this wasn’t an isolated tale. He uncovered similar stories from a number of people who had their significant others go off on a big, adventurous trip, only to have their relationship end once they came home. Even more confounding was the fact that many of the travelers were women and many of them had been traveling in Africa. The article goes on to get quotes from several guide services and travel companies, who say that this is indeed a common tale that they encounter on a regular basis themselves. A marriage counselor also weighs in on the topic, saying he sees at least one marriage per month break up after an adventurous solo trip.This of course begs the question as to why this occurs. The story speculates that it is due to the person traveling expanding their horizons and having a life altering experience on their journey, something we can all relate to from our own travels I’m sure. The same counselor mentioned above says that generally the issues were there before the solo adventure, but the travels bring them more the forefront.

Outside‘s article concludes with the advice that you don’t let your significant other travel alone. Go with him or her. Experience the life changing moments together, and share the journey. If you break up when you get home, at least you got a great trip out of it, right?

So, has anyone experienced this phenomenon first hand? Have you been the dumper or the dumpee?