1/2/17, “The
Fools Who Dream”
Aboard VX
170, En route LAX-EWR
Usually at
this point during the trip, I would be writing my final, triumphant airport
entry, celebrating the amazing success that the trip had been, but I pretty
much already did that when I was departing from SYD two Days ago. However, today, I do not feel the triumph of
the perfectly planned and executed trip that I felt leaving Australia, but I
feel, instead, sadness that this trip must come to an end and that I must go
home.
The fact that the trip ended in
the company of one of my oldest and dearest friends only made saying goodbye to La La Land
and ending the trip even more painful, our farewell emphasizing the finality of
the trip itself. The fact that this
entry has a en route dateline, rather than being a proper airport entry,
evinces that we postponed that farewell as long as possible without missing my
flight, which I almost did. All of this contributes to this trip being able to make a strong claim as being one of my ten
greatest trips of all time, and this entry will be the final reckoning that
allows me to make that judgment.
When I set out to see the world, five years ago now, it seemed like a foolish dream, and, as I kept adding to the Goals before I got an eventual list of 17, they seemed even crazier. How would I possibly visit all seven continents? I can’t go to Antarctica. Surely visiting the Seven Natural Wonders of the World was just a foolish dream? How could I ever go to Everest, surely that was not possible without a hiking background? How could I visit all 27 Olympic Stadiums, much less set foot inside of all 27? That was just another foolish dream, was it not? Well, here’s to the fools who dream, crazy as they may seem. All 17 of those Goals I set for myself no longer seem a foolish a dream, and they will all be completed by the end of this year.
There is some irony that my time in La La Land was designed around
exploring sites in Southern California, while it was the unplanned parts in La
La Land itself that were most enjoyable, by, which, of course, I mean my “La La
Land” tour last night and dinner tonight.”
The fulfillment value I got from visiting the three National Park Sites
was insignificant compared to the enjoyment value of my two nights here.
When I closed at SYD, I knew that, if my time
in La La Land went well, this trip would secure itself a spot in the top ten of
all time. I think it is safe to say that
my time here went as well as could possibly have been imagined. After I closed at DOH two months ago at the
end of my “Because It’s There” trip, I declared that trip to be in two-way tie
for fifth with my first trip to Europe, and I ranked the remaining as follows: Antarctica
at seventh, Greece at eighth, Israel at ninth, and TLGRSTA at tenth.
It is abundantly clear to me that this trip is worthy of a spot on that list.
TLGSRTA was amazing, and I am loathe to dislodge it from the top
ten. My mother and I had a great time
visiting three National Parks in the northern Rockies, two of them World
Heritage Sites. Combining Yellowstone
and Glacier together was done in such an epic fashion, and my time in the
Canadian Rockies and across the prairie could give the Yellowstone/Glacier
portion a run for its money. The natural
scenery I saw during that trip beats any of these five trips I am mentioning,
with the exception of Antarctica.
However, it was lacking in any really cultural experiences.
Greece suffered the opposite problem, being a
purely cultural experience, but it is very hard for something to beat going to
Greece at the height of my obsession with Greek mythology and seeing the Athens
2004 Stadium being finished months before the Games. No, not the Sydney Opera House, nor even the
Sydney 2000 Stadium can compete with Greece in that regard.
As for purely natural experiences, Antarctica
would win the prize for that (of the five I am considering). The social experiences, though, is what made
the Antarctica trip so special, but reuniting with my friends over the past two
days is almost of the same level of the new friends I made in Antarctica. My New Year’s celebration in Sydney was
almost as good as the one in Antarctica.
Reader, what word do you see me using in both sentences? Almost.
That means that this trip was almost as good as my trip to
Antarctica. Likewise, due the special
circumstances surrounding my trip to Greece, this trip falls short of that one
as well.
What about Israel? Yes, Israel was a good mix of natural, cultural,
and social experiences, and it was my first time to a new continent as well. However, it was dampened by the loss of the
water bottle before I even arrived at Ben Gurion. Without the loss of the water bottle, it
would be contest between these two trips, but given the fact that Mark III of
the water has now been to all seven continents, I think that the door is opened
to competition. The social aspects of
Israel, though forced, beat out my two reunions this weekend by a slim margin,
even if those friendships have all but died off. The cultural aspects of visiting my homeland
beat out, by a slim margin, the cultural sites that I have visited this
trip. However, the natural beauty of
Tasmania beats out anything I saw in the deserts of Israel. New Year’s Eve in Sydney was a more memorable
experience than anything I did in Israel.
I am very tempted to say that this trip is tied with Israel for the
ninth spot, but I have to give the edge to this trip because I controlled the
schedule, rather than being subjected to a tour group, and, overall, this trip
left a more memorable positive impression, though, the next time I do a
reckoning, things might change.
This
trip was special in so many ways, but something I realized, and this is a
reason that it is not ranked higher, is that I enjoy the chase far more than I
enjoy the completion. I enjoy checking
things off the list far more than I enjoy the list being fully checked. That is why the “Because It’s There” trip,
which left only this trip to Complete two of my goals ranks so much higher than
this trip. London 2012 and the Mountain were
more fulfilling, knowing how close I was to completing those two goals, than
Sydney 2000 and the Reef were. Likewise,
visiting Antarctica for the first time, leaving only Africa and Australia, was
more fulfilling than finally saying that I had been to all seven
continents.
On my master spreadsheet,
the one that tracks all of my upcoming (and past) trips and my progress towards
my 17 Goals, there is a sheet that is called “40 Goals (Tentative)”, which will
be finalized before I leave for Hawaii and will be a necessary part of any
travels I undertake following the completion of my “30 Goals.” A note on the language I am using here. The “17 Goals” and “30 Goals” are interchangeable,
being the 17 Goals I am aiming to accomplish by the time I turn 30. When I finalize my list of “40 Goals”, they
may be 12 or 14 Goals, but they will still be called “40 Goals” for
simplicity’s sake. Those would be the
Goals I aim to achieve before turning 40.
Having that list gives my travels purpose in a way that aimlessly
wandering about does not, and working towards those Goals is far more
fulfilling than finally achieving them.
That is why the goalposts are always shifting. That means that the moment I make my
pronouncements later this year about having completed my 30 Goals, I will begin
pursuing my 40 Goals almost immediately after taking a bit of a break from
travelling. That is what this year is
about, closing out these Goals, and it began with this trip. Okay, so how did my second Day in La La Land
play out?
After I closed, as promised, I
slept out on the balcony, waking up freezing cold around 8 AM. I had a 6 PM dinner reservation with my
dearest friend, who lives here, and I did not want to be a minute late for
that. Our timing was as tight as
possible, and I would have to go straight from dinner to the airport, forgoing
my airport entry so that we could have an extra hour together. I calculated that the absolute latest that I
could l leave the hotel was 11 AM, but I really wanted to be on the road by 10
AM. My plan was to have a morning cigar
on the balcony after breakfast. I was
too tired to allow that and went inside to sleep for another hour. It was close to 10 AM by the time I got out
of bed, and I knew my time at the two National Park Sites would need to be cut
short due to the late departure, which would now be after 11 AM.
I went down for breakfast and opted for the
corned beef hash with eggs, along with coffee and club soda. The meal was disappointing, as they did a
gourmet style of it, which was nowhere near as good as the peasant style I
would get at a diner. The service was
fantastic, but I had some serious sticker shock when I got the check. The meal price was expensive, but I was
prepared for that. The drink prices,
though, were outrageous. My coffee and
two small bottles of club soda somehow being as much as the meal. The coffee was obnoxiously expensive, and the
club soda bottles were so small that one didn’t even fill up the glass with
ice.
After breakfast, I went up to the
room to pack and get ready. I also had
to stitch up the rip in my pants where my wallet had torn through last
night. I did a horrible job, and the
stitching has long since come undone. I
headed down, and my car was soon ready.
It would be a two-hour drive to Cesar Chavez National Monument, which
was completely out of the way and nothing more than a stamp and photo op for
me. I lit up a Graycliff and started
driving north and up into the mountains.
My top was down, and it was impossible to close as I drove , even as the
temperature dropped into the 30s.
Eventually, I arrived at the NPS, and, I was almost done with an Oliva
that I had lit during the drive. I left
it outside the VC and went in. They were
out of brochures. NOOOOOOO!!!!!! The NPS brochure is the most Official part of
an NPS visit. If I had known they were
out, I would have never gone, saving it instead for whenever I went to Devils
Postpile NM. Worse, there was nothing to
see at the site. Properly, it should
have been a National Memorial, not a National Monument, but NMems require
Congressional approval, and a Republican Congress would never approve a federal
memorial to a Californian labor leader.
They had a paper brochure, which, while not Official, allowed me to get
my stamp and pose for ceremonial pictures.
I was done there at 2 PM, and it would be another two hours back to
Santa Monica to see the NPS there. I
wouldn’t have time for sitdown lunch, but I had seen a Sonic on the drive up,
and I could stop there. I drove with my
top down, intending to have another cigar after lunch. Well, reader, I never saw the Sonic, and, by
3 PM, it was now too close to dinner time to have lunch, but hunger was
starting to preclude any enjoyment I could get for the rest of the day. A drove the whole two hours without a cigar,
an oddity for me, and, as I approached my destination, I saw a 7-Eleven right
on the side of the road. That was
perfect. I could get a coffee and a
small, hot snack to take the edge off and keep me going until dinner. The whole process took five minutes.
I was back on the road and soon arrived at
Santa Monica Mountains NRA. I got to the
VC, and they had brochures and stamps there, so I was in business. They also pointed me to some scenic
overlooks, so I was in business. I was
racing against sunset at 5 PM, as the drive from there to the restaurant would
take less than an hour, even stopping for gas.
I lit up my last Cuban, a Por Larranga, and took my ceremonial pictures
before getting back on the road. After the
cigar, I stopped for gas and went to the restaurant. I struggled to find parking, but my friend
had texted me that she found parking around the block.
I parked across from a familiar-looking black
Camaro. The house I parked in front of
had an open door with an old man, who had a huge Star of David around his
neck. He gestured for me to come inside. Hesitant, I didn’t feel right about refusing
his request. He pointed to a pile of
assorted items on the floor and asked me to move it from the entrance area to
the corridor. It seemed an odd request,
and, as I helped him, I noticed some very strange relics around his house,
including odd masks and skulls. I was
now downright apprehensive. Looking at
him, I thought to myself, if need be, I could take him. In the process of picking up some of the
clothes, which it mostly seemed to be, with odd things mixed in, I ripped the
stitch I had made in my pants.
Lovely. I finished his task and
went to meet my friend outside the restaurant, which was not opened yet, as we
were early. This was very clearly the
Jewish part of town, confirmed both by the Jewish delis and my encounter with
the old man.
My friend and I warmly
greeted each other, and I told her what had just happened. As I explained it, she seemed to think that I
had parked in the wrong area. How could
that be? Surely that was her black
Camaro across from my car? Unless there
were two black Camaros parked on the same street, I wondered aloud. We still had time, and her gift was in the trunk
of my car, besides. We got to my car,
and I asked her, “Isn’t that Bagheera [her name for her car]?” It wasn’t.
There were two black Camaros. We
drove towards where her car was, and I found a legit parking spot, where no one
asked me to move clothing for him in the process. I
retrieved her gift from the trunk, and we walked to the restaurant.
It was good being reunited again, and we
wasted no time in telling each other the details of our trips from the past
week, me in Australia, her in New York.
It worked out well that we were able to meet here, as I was afraid that
we would literally wind up crossing paths in the air on our flights home, her flying
EWR-LAX, me flying LAX-EWR. The theme of
the menu was popular dishes made with unconventional ingredients, including
offal. We got a bottle of their house
red, and four plates to share.
We chose
the sweetbreads, bone marrow, oxtail “poutine”, and pork belly sliders. We took some pictures together, and the food
started coming one plate at a time. It
was all good, very good, but nowhere as good as each other’s company. I was watching the timing, wanting to enjoy
every last minute we could together.
After we talked about our trips, the conversation turned to a more
personal nature, all of which is, of course, unpublishable out of respect for
privacy, but we discussed relationships past and present and various ideas about our futures.
It was a good conversation, one that was very
deep and meaningful, and one that I didn’t want to end. We got dessert and finished our wine, but,
the time had come, and if I stayed one minute later, I would risk missing my
flight. We walked together to our cars
and said our goodbyes. It truly was the
perfect way to end this epic trip.
It
was now two hours before my 10:20 PM flight, and it only took me half an hour
to get to the airport. I returned the
car right away, and took the bus to the terminal, but, that was where the fun
began. There was brutal traffic on the
way to the terminal, and I worried that that was foretelling a long line for
security. It was an hour before the
flight when I got inside the terminal, and I had to drop off my bag to be
checked. Then, security had a long line, and I was now seriously anxious about
missing my flight.
Finally, I got
through security and headed to my gate, getting there as they announced the
final boarding call with five minutes before they would close the gate. I had made it. Barely.
And it meant that I had maximized my time with my friend to the last
possible minute. I sat down in my seat
(the middle seat being fortuitously open after the passenger relocated), where
I proceeded to write this entry, which I will now close so that I can publish,
along with closing out this epic trip.
Next stop: Hispaniola, where I will be able to say, “Caribbean Complete.”
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