Life Aboard the Traveling Circus

September 12, 2013September 12, 2013

Facing The Morning Pilgrimage

When I die and go to Hell, I will spend an eternity sitting on route 80 in bumper-to-bumper traffic, making bets to myself on how long it will take me to get to work as I slump behind an 18-wheeler and a beer-bellied plumber.

As rogue travelers, we spend a lot of time on the road, usually going somewhere cool (or cool in theory). However, I don’t think “a lot of time on the road” should translate to 30 miles and an hour and a half to work each way.

Am I the only one that sits in an obscene amount of traffic twice a day, everyday? No, I’m not – because if I did, route 80 would be empty for at least some of that strip of 30 miles. And honestly, that’s the part that really irks me. According to a 2011 Texas A&M University study, traffic congestion caused Americans to travel 5.5 billion hours more and to purchase an extra 2.9 billion gallons of fuel, which adds up to 56 billion unnecessary pounds of carbon dioxide released during that year.

Hard to grasp? Yeah that’s probably because it is. Also, just so you know, this adds up to an average of 38 hours per commuter per year, according to Adam Werback in The Atlantic. Personally, I spend about 480 hours in my car each year just commuting to and from work, so this figure sounds pretty awesome to me, as well as my 100,000 mile ’02 Ford Focus.

This picture actually gives me anxiety

In America, we go on about how we have to save the environment, about how we should recycle, drive hybrid cars, and use reusable products, which is all good advice since Americans make up for five percent of the population yet use 20 percent of the world’s energy, according to the World Population Balance. However, also in America, train station stops aren’t necessarily accessible, nor are they necessarily fairly priced, or necesssarily reliable.

Conversely, we are also constantly told we need to put more time and effort towards our personal lives; that we need to spend more time with the kids, take the retriever for a walk, have dinner with the wife. According to the International Labour Organization, Americans work 137 more hours per year than Japanese workers, 260 more hours per year than British workers, and 499 more hours per year than French workers. Somehow, I highly doubt that every single one of those Americans chooses to work an extra ten hours each week.

What great advice! Too bad it’s totally unrealistic, especially considering there are three unemployed people competing for every position, says Fox News, which makes for slim pickings for jobs.

To top the whole thing off, many of us come home angry, frustrated, and anxiety (and back pain) ridden – just from coming home from work. Exhibit A: Today at about 8:00 pm, a 60-or-so-year-old man in a small yellow convertible car actually followed me back to my apartment complex, parked behind my car, proceeded to walk up and then bang on my windows screaming “You know what you did,” and then trying to physically open my door. Luckily, I had locked the doors, feeling like the fact this guy had been behind me and then drove into my complex for six miles or so was kind of weird. Then after he left and I went inside, I looked out the window and saw that he had come back and circled around, most likely copying down my license plate so that he could find me and kill me. True story people. If I go missing, you know why.

I’m no genius (obviously). I’m not an engineer, I don’t know the makings of how to build a highway, or how to manage traffic issues, or how to deal with energy usage in this country or any other problems that I have mentioned here. But I do know one thing for sure – something isn’t quite right, and it’s not the residents of 740 Park who are seeing the effects. It’s you.

September 1, 2013September 1, 2013

The Five Best Things About Nomad Life

There are tons of travel blogs and websites out there that will advise you on lots of really great information for people with disposable income – like the most luxurious wedding destinations, the most fashionable cities, the coolest airlines flying the skies. However, as you probably already know, Life Aboard The Traveling Circus isn’t about jet setting middle-aged bores who wear fur coats and drink cocktails in first class – it’s about dingy wanderers with used scarves and unclean hair hopping trains and sipping cold beer.

However, even though this kind of life is always new, always exciting, and always dirty, it sometimes can take a toll on our heavy and tired hearts. Once in a while, we yearn for a stable spot to sleep, a clean pair of drawers, and a toothbrush that hasn’t been sitting on the bottom of a backpack. Unfortunately, sometimes we get a little stuck. We’re already on the road and the option to lie in a bed that only we have laid in isn’t an option. So for those days, when even you, ever-exciting you, would kill to wake up in a room that isn’t shared, here are some reminders of why nomad life is freakin’ awesome.

1. You will never have too much junk. Actually, you will never really have any junk. You may have started out with birthday cards, vacation shot glasses, and bobble heads, but let’s be serious, when you started living out of a backpack all that stuff slowly began trickling away. Without any junk, your life becomes more clear, unclogged by material items that don’t really have much meaning after all. Plus, it’s a hell of a lot cheaper to travel light when you’re not paying overweight baggage fees.

2. You have the coolest friends all over the globe. When you’re stuck in one place, you probably hang out with the same people most of the time – they’re probably good kids, they’re probably an okay time, and bowling and movies on Saturday night isn’t so bad. But when you travel, you meet people in a whole new ball game. The people you will come across have no fear, no ties, and no regrets. They’re down to work hard and play hard – everyday. They want to stay up all night, they want to talk to every person in the room, they want to jump in the ocean at midnight, and then they want to do it all again tomorrow… in another country.

3. You make yourself built-in parents. I don’t know about you, but at this point, my parents are kind of over me. They don’t want to make me lunch anymore, they don’t want to pay for my dinner, and they don’t really want to listen to my boy problems. However, parents across the globe never get tired of taking care of new scavengers. Once they have empty nests, they love having some lost kid to take care of for a few days… before they get sick of them, too, so in the meantime, it’s nice to have someone tell you about back in the day for a little while and bake you some cookies.

4. The little things in life stop mattering. When you don’t have much else going on, it’s easy to get irritated with the dumb chores you have to do – doing the laundry, going to the food store because you ran out of instant coffee, putting the dishes away after dinner three days ago. However, when you’re traveling, none of this stuff matters anymore. You can revert back to being a kid, when you ran rampart, jumped in mud puddles, and ate Pop-Tarts for dinner. There is something incredibly liberating about having a day free enough that you can literally just do whatever you want, whether that be cliff jumping, biking the ramparts, or drinking wine before five… Just because you feel like it.

5. You always go to bed tired. Living nine-to-five life can be rough in more ways than one. You’re tired all day long, but by the time you go to bed, you lie awake with your mind running, wondering what the hell you’re doing with your life and where it’s all heading. However, when you’re traveling, no matter if you’re sleeping in the Four Seasons or on some rando’s couch, every night, you go to bed dead tired, fulfilled, and surrounded by the mess of the day. No salary is worth more than that.

August 21, 2013

Who I Am in Sweet Valley, Arkansas

Reading awakens a thirst for the world.

It is probably for this reason that many of us read books, blogs; basically anything we can get our grimy little hands on to read and devour, to escape from one place and live as another, even if it’s only for just an hour before bedtime.

Probably one of the odder things about this is that books can take a place that didn’t seem very enticing before and somehow, make it a place where we crave to be. If you have ever read one sentence of anything I have ever wrote, you probably know that I’m from, and am currently stuck in, a small farm town in the woods where it takes 20 minutes to get to the gas station. However, today during the office Internet outage, when I finished up the last few pages of my newest read, Windchill Summer by Norris Church Mailer, I had a real craving for visiting the little Southern town where the main character, Cherry, lives and goes to school.

Cherry lives in Sweet Valley, Arkansas, and her life really isn’t anything exceptional. She works at a pickle plant and studies Art Education at the local college during the peak of the Vietnam War. The book deals with a local murder, the wants of those with wasted youths, and the horrors of war. However, the writing is so real, so compelling, that even with these tragic issues, the books made me, and probably other readers, feel a compulsion to want to visit this little town, where I can almost feel the hot wind blowing in the dry summer and see the corn stalks swaying and hear my friends with their deep Southern accents laughing and talking.

It’s a life like this that seems so peaceful, so relaxing to even just breathe in and out, so simple. I feel like if I were Cherry and I lived in Arkansas, I wouldn’t grapple with questions like where is my career going? Where am I going to live? How is this all going to work out? What the hell am I doing?

I actually have to kind of hit myself when I think these things, because I already live in a town like this and guess what? These are my exact problems. But this is all besides my point. Reading and writing awaken the joy of travel, of learning, of living a new life when you really aren’t happy with your current one. In reality, this written life probably wouldn’t even be that great. But for now, for this hour before you fall asleep, it feels pretty nice to just pretend.

August 17, 2013August 17, 2013

Halifax, Peggy’s Cove, and Nova Scotia Silence

Being that I am usually on the bottom floor of cruises with the animals, it was a big step-up this time to be on deck eight, where we had a balcony that I spent a lot of time on (eavesdropping). As the Carnival Glory pulled into the harbor of Halifax, Nova Scotia, on the third day of our cruise out of five and our second and last stop, I heard the accented New Yorkers on the balcony say, “Yesterday it looked like we cruised into the Bronx. Today, it’s goddamn Newark.” Ahh, Canada.

After a previous rather disappointing day on the Bay of Fundy, aka the Bay of No-Fundy (I’m sorry) I wasn’t really that psyched to get on another bus with a bunch of dimwitted tourists to go to our next destination, Peggy’s Cove, also located about one hour from the main city. I was even less excited when the irritating tour guide wouldn’t stop yapping about the native flowers to Canada and more culture-y things I don’t care about.

However, as we neared Peggy’s Cove, I started to change my mind, even though the tour guide still wouldn’t shut it. This place wasn’t the touristed-out lake that I paid $60 to visit yesterday. This place, although still reminding me of Long Valley (can’t escape), had an untouched, silent elegance to it that made you think that the people who inhabited these tiny, colorful seaside cottages actually probably had a pretty sweet life, breathing in the sea salt and rocking by on their canoes all day long.

The bus barely made it through the windy dirt roads that neared the edge of the town where a lighthouse sits on rocks next to the water and makes the high point of the place. Even though rain started to fall the second we got off the bus and it wasn’t exactly promising to see people piling on their layers in August, it was very much worth it to be in a place where you could feel a breath of air in the serenity and peace of Peggy’s Cove.

We climbed up and down the rocks, trying not to fall down and tossing wishing stones back into the water, before walking down the dirt roads to spy on the rainbow homes dotting the grass. Cars, swing sets, and boats surround each house, however it seemed that the fact there were tourists didn’t bother any of the gentle inhabitants that called it home. We stayed until it was too cold and too rainy to do anything more before getting back on the bus.

After, we went to the Fairview Lawn Cemetery, which is where 121 victims of the Titanic are buried, some of them simply bearing a number because their bodies were never identified and able to be claimed by families. Halifax was the closest port to the resting place of the Titanic, so three ships went out the morning after the crash to gather the bodies, since the lifeboats did not take any of them with them for obvious reasons.

Nova Scotia, and Canada in general, isn’t the most exciting or coolest place in the world. But it sure knows where to gather quiet when it needs it.

August 17, 2013

The Bay of No-Fundy

O CANADA. When I think of the land of maple syrup and moose (which, really, is all I know about Canada), the last thing that I think of is oil refineries, tankers, and a passing breeze of cold smog. However, when I opened up my windows in the early morning on my third official day of my trip on the Carnival Glory to Canada, expecting to be greeted by crisp sea winds and singing whales, this is what I got. I guess there’s a reason people make fun of America‘s losery sister.

Okay, backtrack here. To be fair, I didn’t really venture inside the city of Saint John, the largest city in the Canadian province of New Brunswick and the first stop on our five-day cruise. Before venturing off to the Bay of Fundy, a bay on the Atlantic coast famous for their having the highest tidal range in the world (it’s about as cool as it sounds), we mostly just stayed on the outskirts of Saint John near the water. The Aquila Tours bus picked us up like the lame cruisers that we are and good old Grandma Jane proceeded to show up where her in-laws lived, where her husband works, and oh yeah, the picturesque brown bay.

The extent of Canada that I saw basically looks exactly the same as Long Valley, New Jersey (also as interesting as it sounds). There are a lot of trees and… yeah that’s about it. On the way to the Bay, about an hour’s drive from Saint John taking the scenic route (thanks for nothing, Jane) we did pass some colorful cottages, churches, but unfortunately no moose.

The first stop on the tour is St. Martin’s, a Canadian fishing village on the Bay of Fundy. This story sums the place up pretty well – Jane said that in her early days as a newlywed, for her and her husband’s exciting nights out, they would take a trip to the city dump… to watch the bears dig for garbage. I wish I was kidding, because this story really concerns me for my future in Long Valley. However, nightmares aside and nonetheless boring, St. Martin’s is still a pretty little place with a lighthouse, some sea caves only accessible when the tide is low, lobster traps, and two covered bridges that I’m still not quite sure what the hype is about.

Apparently it’s the only place in the world where you can take a picture of two covered bridges at once… whoopitydoo

Down the street from St. Martin’s, we stop at some shamelessly plugged restaurant that I won’t even name because the whole thing is so ridiculous it’s not worth mentioning in any more detail. At low tide, one can stroll the rocky beaches and search for a “wishing stone,” which is just a normal rock that is encircled by a white line all the way around that you’re supposed to make a wish on and then give to a friend.

On our way home, someone asks Jane what she does in the wintertime, when the summer 60-degree weather becomes harsh and chilled. “I paint white lines on rocks,” she says.

August 17, 2013August 17, 2013

Five Reasons to Cruise the Open Seas

Let’s get serious here… I have been on my fair share of trips (although I’m certainly nowhere near finished). I love running ragged across the world, carrying my $20 backpack filled with old t-shirts and a toothbrush, living by, quite honestly, the seams of my dress. However, every once in a while (i.e. when my parents pay for it) I enjoy a good ol’, carefree, luxurious, and easy, cruise.

When cruising, the only map you need is the (overly complicated) deck map. The only decision you need to make is which colorful drink will accompany your breakfast. The farthest you need to walk is up a flight of stairs.

Cruising isn’t for everyone, nor is it fitting for every trip. However, here are a few reasons why it’s worth the indulgence every once in a while.

1. The only line you will stand in is one for the buffet. Cruises are a ready-made vacation. See it as a positive or negative, but the security on these babies is incredibly lax. You’re not going to be patted down by a man named Harmony and it is scarily easy to sneak liquor in. If you’re like my large Sicilian father or you have a hard time staying in a seat for eight hours, cruises are a great way to get the fun of a vacation without the beforehand hassle.

2. Drinking at breakfast isn’t only accepted, it’s expected. I’m not totally sure why only some cruises are classified as “booze cruises,” because really, all cruises are like this. Let’s be serious here, what else are you going to do for 5+ days on a ship. There are more bars than there are restaurants and grandparents, grandchildren, and everyone in between drink together in one happy (and sloppy) union. They are truly the great equalizer. Plus, the heavy cabin shades make it easy to sleep in the day after… and after.

3. You can make neighbor friends you can ditch at will. Cruises are great for making friends because everyone is drunk (see above) and you see everyone over and over again, making the ship kind of like one big family hangout. Since everyone is on vacation and obviously wearing their favorite outfits, they’re already in a great mood and everyone is easy to talk to. If you depart from a port close to where you live like most people do, you will also probably make friends with people who live close enough to that you can hang out with them again later. And if you don’t want to see them again… well you’ll be home in seven days anyhow.

4. There’s a lot of free stuff. Well I guess it’s not really free since you shelled out somewhere in between $500 to $1000 for this (or your parents did) but the nice part is that you don’t have to hand out a lot of money once you’re onboard (you’ll just pay the bill later, when you’re sober). No paying for meals, shows, towels, movies, tastings, room service, etc.

5. You don’t have to do anything yourself. If you’re an overachiever like me, you probably run around like a maniac all day organizing all the idiots you know who remarkably haven’t fallen out of an open window yet. It gets pretty tiring. However, cruising is a lot like being a kid again, only this time, your parents let you do whatever you want, because you’re a damn adult now. Cruises tell you where to go, what to eat, what time it is, and what you’re doing, so for the first time… there’s nothing to worry about. Now that’s a vacation if I ever knew one.

This is how you get on the Titanic without the whole iceberg thing

August 4, 2013August 4, 2013

Live Free

Being that I live in the boondocks, most of the activities that I am unfortunately forced to participate in near my home luckily tend to be free or dirt cheap. Mostly, this is because I live in a town in which the extent of the businesses is one general store. True story. Anyway, no matter if you live in a small farm town at the edge of the earth or in a fabulous apartment in New York City, here are some activities that are always fun, and, most importantly, always free… or will be until the government figures out how to tax it.

1. Hiking. Here’s a secret people… hiking… is walking. Who knew? And not only that, but it’s also exercise. Usually I forget this until halfway through the hike when I’m already stuck there anyway. It’s a nice way to pass an hour, hang out in some nature and get out of the AC, and a have a chat with someone you’re used to texting instead. My fondest memory of my semester abroad is actually one of the first days in Italy when I visited Cinque Terre and hiked through the five towns connected only by trail and rail. To find all the national parks by state, visit Find a Park on the National Park Service page.

2. Biking. Okay so I know that if you’re biking in a race or you’re really trying to roll biking technically is exercising, but biking i.e. just cruising along is actually one of my favorite things to do on vacation, which is saying a lot because I enjoy being horizontal if I’m anywhere near a beach. Down by the shore, you can literally rent beach cruisers for $5 a pop, which is the most relaxing way to stroll a boardwalk and see the extent of the coast… and pick up some salt water taffy at the end of the go. Visit Rent a Bike Now to find bike rental shops near you.

3. Stroll the farmers market.You would really be surprised how much neat stuff you find… that’s cheap, too. Homegrown food runs wild at these places, which we tend to think of as only for grandparents but they’re really a nice way to spend a boring Sunday afternoon… and to get some free samples of some really awesome olive oil. Visit the United States Department of Agriculture page to search for markets near you.

4. Laying out in the sun. Don’t have a pool? Me neither. However, my mother still insists on parking her beach chair out in our (wooded) backyard basically every single day in her swimsuit with a good book. For some reason, this always feels much more exotic than if you were to just take a nap indoors. Also, you get to go back inside with a tan.

5. Start a garden. Don’t have a green thumb? Kill everything within sight? Samesies. However, thanks to the joy of modern technology, you don’t have to anymore. Who knew! Stop by your local grocery store and many stores have ready-made kits complete with dirt, seeds, plant food, and step-by-step directions. Thank God. Visit this blog and learn more about how to start your own little backyard farm.

Want to have a whole money-free weekend and get some more great ideas for when you have some time to kill but no money to spend? Read 100 Things To Do During a Money Free Weekend.

July 31, 2013July 31, 2013

The Weight of The World

“How much does your life weigh? Imagine for a second that you’re carrying a backpack. I want you to pack it with all the stuff that you have in your life… you start with the little things. The shelves, the drawers, the knickknacks, then you start adding larger stuff. Clothes, tabletop appliances, lamps, your TV… the backpack should be getting pretty heavy now. You go bigger. Your couch, your car, your home… I want you to stuff it all into that backpack. Now I want you to fill it with people. Start with casual acquaintances, friends of friends, folks around the office… and then you move into the people you trust with your most intimate secrets. Your brothers, your sisters, your children, your parents and finally your husband, your wife, your boyfriend, your girlfriend. You get them into that backpack, feel the weight of that bag. Make no mistake your relationships are the heaviest components in your life. All those negotiations and arguments and secrets, the compromises. The slower we move the faster we die. Make no mistake, moving is living. Some animals were meant to carry each other to live symbiotically over a lifetime. Star crossed lovers, monogamous swans. We are not swans. We are sharks.”

– Up In The Air (2009)

I’m not sure if I can ever say it quite so eloquently or quite so sadly as George Clooney did when he played Ryan Bingham in “Up In The Air,” but after the last few days in the hoopla of the final and rather surprising selling of my house, not the only house I’ve ever lived in but certainly the most significant, I can say that I agree with our handsome friend.

Traveling is a funny thing. When we’re on the road, we depend on the little we have on our backs. Which is probably why many of us sweat wondering what we’ve forgotten, double-checking for our phones and our keys and our credit cards and if you’re me, a pair of ear plugs and extra underwear. By the end of a trip, as much as I always love the destination I had the pleasure of visiting, I’m always a little relieved to be free of this stress and to be back at my house, my house, where everything is where I put it and everything is comfortable, familiar, and ordinary. In a life of uncertainties and insanity, it is this ordinary, this average, that is effortlessly grounding.

However, when you have to give the place you live to someone else, a total stranger, your life is at ends with itself. When I think about someone else who I don’t know and never will know sitting in the exact place I’m sitting in now, closing a broken window that is mine and running down hallways that are mine and stumbling into doorways drunk that are mine, it makes me pretty uneasy.

Unfortunately, this is the way of the world. I’m a 22-year-old postgrad living in my mother’s house so quite honestly, I have zero say in the matter, and rightly so. I can’t make my family and my childhood toys stay in a place that I would desperately love to move out of just so that I can always know that they are there, my life, my ordinary, waiting patiently for my return on a particularly gloomy weekend.

It’s at this point where we have to ask ourselves: How much do I weigh? When your house is gone, when your life is gone, you have to restart. You have to look at your life and arm yourself with what items, what memories, and what people matter, and you have to create a new home within yourself.

And this is travel. When scavenging the open road, we don’t have our comfy beds and our mother’s cooking and the safety of our locked windows at night. Instead, we will stay in unfriendly rooms with people we will never see again and we will pack our toothbrushes up after using them. In this way, what we do in our travel is what we must do in life when it is time to reevaluate, move on, and restart. We create homes inside ourselves while packing as little as we can possibly fit into our patched backpacks.

Because, as always, for an impenetrable shield, stand inside yourself.

July 21, 2013July 21, 2013

How To Be Homeless

As of today, I can confidently say that I am a semi-functioning, fairly responsible, well-on-my-way adult. I know how to boil water, I do my own laundry (and nails), and I have a full-time job that I have to wake up obscenely early for. However, adulthood notwithstanding, I still insist on acting like an absolute homeless person from every Friday at 5:00 pm to whenever I happen to wander my way home on Sundays, obviously in time for dinner.

Being that Long Valley sucks, I make my way to (anywhere else in the world) each weekend, relying on cheap food, draft beer, sleeping bags in the trunk of my car, and the extreme generosity of my poor friends to make my way through this three day nonsense fest. Luckily for you, dear reader, I’m about to share with you how to make your time on the road as easy as a casual day at home.

1. Sing for your supper. Literally? Well, you can if you want to, but if the sound of your voice makes dogs cry, then I more mean along the lines of making it worth the while for your friends. Yes, they love you– they’ve been with you in the good times and the bad, the sober and the not-so-sober. However, even still, your hapless body on their couch drinking all their soda isn’t the most pleasant of sights. So, do what you can to help them out. Offer to drive, insist on paying for their drinks, tidy up their room while they’re in the shower. Don’t take the fact that you’re technically a “guest” for granted– guestdom doesn’t exist until one of you actually has money. In the meantime, you’re a good-for-nothing freeloader, and remember that and act accordingly. Be the one who leaves their living room cleaner than you found it.

2. Make their friends your friends. There’s one thing I can say for certain – the person who stands in the corner sipping on a Ginger Ale is never the person invited back for a second visit. Your friends may love you, but they don’t want to babysit you. They don’t want to be the one who has to entertain you. Even if they, or the night, isn’t the most exciting thing in the world, pretend you have been best friends with their friends for years. Be chatty, ask questions, and be friendly. Remember that unlike people you meet at school or at work, this is your one shot ever to win someone over that you probably won’t ever see again, but your own interaction with them will prove a lot to your friends who don’t want to be the one feeling guilty because you’re off moping on the other side of the bar.

3. Don’t just hand over your dollars. When on the road, it’s easy to drop money on stupid stuff because you feel like you’re on vacation. If you’re off every weekend like me, you’re probably not on vacation. This makes it imperative that you do not constantly splurge on nice food or constantly forget your toothbrush and have to buy new ones. So scope out that free beach, bring a couple snacks that can possibly work as small breakfasts, and for Christ’s sake bring water so you don’t have to keep buying those overpriced $2 bottles. A little extra planning pre-trip goes a long way.

4. Scope out free things. Once again, with a little extra planning, you would be shocked at how much free stuff you can snag. For example – this weekend, I casually walked by the beach patrol stand and sort of used the beach shower alongside brightly-dressed families on vacation as my daily shower. Nbd. Getting dressed in the car and doing your makeup in public bathrooms is all in a day’s work.

5. Don’t be afraid to get a little scummy. When living on the road, you can’t sweat the small stuff. Would you rather be changing in your room than in the backseat of your car in a crowded parking lot in broad daylight? Yeah, probably. But consider all your options, and when that’s your best bet, shrug it off and remember that we’ve seen it all anyway. Think logically, figure out who you can bug and where you can go to get what you need, then take it with a grain of salt and act confidently and unapologetically.

Living out your car isn’t the most glamourous of things. Your car quickly becomes full of garbage and sand, as well as every outfit you could possibly need, and you can often be found with your hair piled on top of your head and carrying a lot of bags. Scummy? Sometimes. Tiring? I would say so. But exciting? Always.

I don’t know why but I feel that this photo is very relevant

July 14, 2013July 14, 2013

Travelista

All kinds of lifestyles inevitably bring forth different types of dress. You live in the South? You’re probably rocking some sun dresses and cowboy boots. You party in the city? I can guess you’re running around in bright, metallic shirts and skirts and high heels. You’re hanging at the beach? If you wear clothes at all, then it’s probably perfectly acceptable to stroll the street in your bikini.

And, fittingly, those who choose to roam the world have developed their own sense of style for themselves. It doesn’t usually consist of bright colors, any sort of elevated shoe, or jewelry that could attract a mugger. However, one thing it does do is notify the world that you’re in the road business for the long haul. Here are some key pieces to help you pick out those who don’t know where they’re sleeping tonight:

1. Crossbody bags, not purses. I don’t want to say “purse,” because the world “purse” in itself implies something cute and compact. Crossbody bags are great because for some reason, they never run out of space to stuff your water bottle, extra pair of underwear, and random piece of bread. Oddly enough, even though they probably cost under $10, they also tend to last years on years helping you tote around town.

2. Many, many elastic hair ties. Don’t let the name fool you- hair ties aren’t just for hair, although they are handy for when you suddenly decide to jump into that lake or need to take a run for your money, literally. However, they’re also pretty great for tying up your skirt, cinching a too-big shirt, and securing the tops of bottles. Who would have thought?

3. A most-likely stolen watch. For most rogue wanderers, a cell phone, especially an international one, is probably out of the question. There’s too many fees, too many risks, and let’s be honest here, it’s probably not going to make it home in the first place. However, a scratched up hand-me-down watch is perfect for blaming when you miss the train once again.

4. Shirts from the side of the road. One time I was making fun of my sister and calling her own style “hobo chic,” in which she confidently told me, “You found that shirt you’re wearing on the side of the road.” Actually, in truth, MY FRIEND found that shirt on the side of the road and gave it to me. This isn’t the point. Soft, worn clothes that have seen the world have character! Stories! Plus, when you fall in the dirt you won’t mind nearly as much.

5. Stacked jewelry, also most likely stolen. For some reason, even though stacked jewelry attracts muggers and thieves, wanderers love this junk. When running the world, we want to take something with us, and God knows we’re not taking a magnet. Instead, we buy something little and glittery, something that feels almost magical and can be carried without being carried.

When you’re on your next family vacation, take a look around. If you see someone wearing all of these things and looking a little soggy, chances are that right now, they’re already scoping out their next bed.