The Gimbel Way of Life: January 2019

Tuesday, January 15, 2019

Around the world in (1)80 Days

With a newborn baby and six months of maternity leave, I found some extra time on my hands to go through old pictures and reflect about my life before becoming a wife and mother. I have to say, I had some amazing travels and adventures that, for better or worse, defined a good portion of my life. You all know of my adventures while living in Switzerland and post Zurich; the following are my travels that led up to me taking the plunge to move across the world in search of the next great story.

New York (2003)

Over the years, I have been to New York more times than I can remember. With at least two girlfriends living there at any given point in time I always had an excuse to go (some good, some bad and some terrible)… I have gone to: attempt to break up an engagement, attend the wedding of said engagement, commemorate the divorce of said marriage and celebrate a second wedding. I have gone for work and for holidays. And I have also gone just to have a fun girl’s weekend, taking the red eye out Friday night after work, napping until noon on Saturday and then partying, eating and shopping until my flight left Sunday afternoon.

But of all my trips to New York, the most memorable was by far the first time I ever set foot in Manhattan. In 2003, instead of the traditional Memorial Day weekend spent drunk on a boat on a lake (which was standard for our college years), Neff, Anj and I opted for a weekend of culture, class and experience in NYC.

We might have been all class once we landed, but our college antics followed us to the airport… with our flight out of Orange County, we drove down to Neff’s parent’s house the night before and Erin came down with us (for reasons we can’t quite remember). Our flight wasn’t until the evening so we spent most of the day drinking wine with Neff’s mom Ann and convincing Erin she should skip her weekend plans and come with us to New York… We had her fully on board, up to the point where she was willing to pay $300 for a last minute flight at the airport to go (to fully appreciate this you have to realize that she didn’t have any luggage, was wearing Ann’s “mom” shorts and sweatshirt due to a spillage of red wine and she was about to hop on a flight to the East Coast where the weather still required lots of layers). The flight ended up costing $320 and unable to do the math to realize that if each of us girls chipped in another $7 she would join, Erin went back home with Ann and Neff, Anj and I headed to the airport bar.

We landed in New York at 6am Friday morning hungover, Anj with a cookie stuck to her ass and slightly concerned that we had gotten on the wrong flight (JFK was under serious construction and the luggage claim area felt like a different world / country). We wandered through the terminal in a haze, grabbing our luggage and, against all advice and warnings, got into an unsolicited limo to take us to Anj’s cousin Beva’s apartment where we were to spend the weekend. The classy factor was on the rise. Even better, Beva was a model and married to a photographer, so we were definitely going to experience all that NYC had to offer.

Over the weekend we checked out the museums, saw the musical Rent, went to a trendy unknown bar for caipirinhas in Williamsburg (I only later realized it was Williamsburg, after the neighborhood became super trendy) and sipped a glass of wine that cost $2,000 (no exaggeration Beva knew the sommelier at a fancy restaurant. We had an early seating before our musical and he let us try a few different wines).

The trip ended on Monday with us not going to sleep until 4am, an early cab to the airport and a slow transition back to our old ways… with Neff puking in the back of the cab in a shopping bag.

Americans in the Azores (2002)

My first truly international travel experience was with the family to the small island chain in the middle of the Atlantic Ocean called the Azores. From genealogy research done by my mom, we determined that my dad’s family was from the island of Terceira and we were going to check out our heritage.

I only remember portions of the trip, but the memories are definitely vivid. The trip began and ended with food at the airport and revolved around food pretty much in between (which is great if you are a foodie like me and Cody, not so great if you are my sister who was getting over food poisoning from two nights before we left. She was pretty much miserable the entire trip).

While waiting with anticipation for our first intercontinental flight ever, we became more than slightly distracted by an elderly woman also waiting for her flight…she had pulled out a plastic shopping bag which contained an ear of corn and proceeded to eat the entire thing sitting at her gate. I have heard of buying food at the airport and was new to the idea of bringing your own food for a flight, but I had never considered corn on the cob a food to take on the go. Needless to say, when we saw the option to buy corn on the cob on the side of the road on one of the islands we had to take the opportunity as homage to the little old lady who clearly left a lasting impression.

We spent our vacation on three of the nine islands starting with Sao Miguel. It was here that we were first introduced to caipirinahs, the Brazilian specialty. Our hotel was two blocks off the main square in Ponta Delgada and every night (or at least it seemed) the town came to the square to enjoy music, drinks and the social scene at what can best be described as a night market/party. The loudest and busiest stall was the Brazilian one which sold caipirinahs. We were hooked.

After getting introduced to the locals’ favorite drink, Cody introduced the locals to Bloody Mary’s. Again, the details are fuzzy, but Cody and I somehow ended up going out dancing and bar hopping with some of the locals who worked at the hotel where we were staying. It seemed like a pretty tame night and when asked by our parents, we gave the cursory response of “it was fun”. But apparently Cody made an impression because later the following day, every waiter and bartender from the hotel stopped by and exclaimed “Cody!” as an approving friend or admirer would.

And it wouldn’t be a trip without my dad also making a lasting impression as well. Our first full day in town on Sao Miguel we went exploring. I am not sure what prompted him, but my dad decided to walk down the boat ramp to feel the water in the harbor. Three inches into the water and he hit a slimy patch. He slid completely into the water, re-emerging covered in salt water and a green algae. To add to his new look, while eating lunch later that day, my dad managed to splash red sauce from his octopus meal all over his white (now green and red) shirt. If our shoes didn’t already let people know, we were clearly American tourists.

It was also during this trip that I began to appreciate the variety of foods that I had been exposed to living in California. While on the islands, we learned that the main staples of their diets were salted cod and linquinsa and options for fresh produce were limited… I also learned the European style of eating a salad (sans Ranch dressing.) After a week plus of eating the same thing, our desire for something different reached a new low when we spent our last night of the trip at a Chinese Food restaurant and we ran to the closest Burger King when we landed in Boston during our lay over. I like to think I have improved in this regard.

Other highlights included a beautiful walk to Lagoa das Sete Cidades (two very different lakes, one green and one blue, separated by a narrow strait), a tour of the island of Fayal with some family friends which wrapped up with us cooking our dinner on hot stone plates (the first I had seen) and some serious bonding with the family.

Yes, my first trip abroad left a lasting impression and began to open my eyes to the world and my heritage…Our trip to the Azores made me realize that I inherited some of the good but also some of the less desirable aspects of each nation I was from. For instance I unfortunately inherited hairiness from Portugal (which is a great combination with the pale white from Ireland).

Ireland (2004)

After our trip to the Azores, my family was hooked on travelling (or most of us, it took my dad a few more years and an upgrade to first class to truly embrace the jet-setting life style). And so it was an easy sell to convince them that we needed to continue the heritage tour and go to Ireland. I mean we had a family castle there that we really needed to see.

Using a good old fashioned travel agent, my mom had worked out all of the details. We were to fly in and out of Dublin, rent a car and drive north along the coast and stop to see the sights along the way. We did have a rule though… we limited the historical sites my mom wanted to see to three; anything beyond that needed approval from the family.

The trip could be summarized as follows: mornings in the car with my dad getting used to driving on the left side of the road, my mom navigating using the large paper map (that threatened to block the windshield and all windows) and Cody and I in back laughing; days spent exploring the new town, historical site or whatever else we stumbled upon and evenings spent in the local pub… I fondly look back on this trip as a countrywide pub crawl.

Drinks at some bar... could have been any point along the trip.

The North Coast of Ireland

Giant's Causeway

The Family at Dunluce Castle

On the wall in Derry

One of the many gift shops we found ourselves in along the way

Mom learning about the historical sites

Enjoying a Guinness after the tour

Costa Rica (2003)

In April 2003, our Aussie friends, being on the verge of overstaying their visas, needed to leave the country for at least a week and it couldn’t be Mexico or Canada. They chose to go to Costa Rica to surf and Neff, Erin, our random friend Danielle and I decided to join them. So four guys (Ryan, Greg, Adam and their friend Travis) and four girls set off to Central America without a clue between all of us.

Our plan was to spend a night in San Jose and then figure out a way to Tamarindo, the little beach town with apparently the best surf on the Pacific side of the country. We left California and rolled into Costa Rica like a hot mess…we drank way too many bloody mary’s before boarding our flight, drank way too many little plane-sized bottles of alcohol on the flight and were the obnoxious, young twenty year olds / pirates at the back of the airplane (right, Erin had to wear goggles and an eye patch for the first day and every night while she slept due to a botched Lasik eye surgery).

We somehow made it through customs in San Jose and all piled into a van to take us to the city for one night…against better judgment, we let Erin book the hotel room accommodations for San Jose (one room for the 8 of us) and she managed to book the cheapest spot in the dodgiest neighborhood. No joke, our cab driver wouldn’t let us out until we were in front of the hotel and he saw us inside safely. This level of concern and security ruined our plans for sneaking the four guys into the room (because clearly the room booked was technically only for four girls) so we ended up having to splurge for a second room and hunkered down in the hotel for the night…The close proximity to night clubs (as promised by Erin and mapquest) was never confirmed. We were too scared to leave.

I can’t remember why, but the four of us girls left the next day on the bus for the beach and the guys made their way a little later. Getting to the bus stop and finding the right bus was just another adventure and reminder that we weren’t in the best neighborhood and we definitely stuck out like the four privileged white girls that we were. A creepy toothless man tried to capitalize on our lost-ness, following us around and offering advice, but we thankfully managed on our own... sort of, the four hour bus ride got us only so far (to Liberia I think) and we then had to find a taxi driver to take us the remaining hour’s drive to the beach.

We rolled into Tamarindo to the strong smell of rotting fruit and mud (this was long before they had paved the roads and welcomed the full blown tourist industry) and no idea where to stay… the guys (still not sure where they were) asked us to find a place for the week, which was somewhat surprising given the previous night’s accommodations in San Jose. We found a great new hostel called Botella de Leche and laid claim to the spot for the rest of the week. And man those days and nights were crazy. Each bar in town had a happy hour or drink special perfectly coordinated so only one bar had a deal each night guaranteeing a big crowd and never missing out on the party.

During the days, we spent our time on the beaches and trying to avoid making complete asses of ourselves… which was quite the challenge (Erin’s eye patch aside). On our first day Erin got attacked by mosquitos (resulting in red bumps all over her legs for the remainder of the trip). She then added to her bug bites the following day with a red, swollen toe after she stepped on coral in the ocean (or as she claims, was bitten by a crab) and made more inflamed by itching it. In addition, she managed to break one of the few toilets in the hostel and was almost swept away by a raging river… One day we crossed a small stream to get to the beach where the guys wanted to surf. Unfortunately the tide came up while we were on the other side and what was a small stream in the morning turned into a 30 foot wide river mouth later that afternoon… that we had to cross with all of our stuff if we wanted to get home. We were doing fine until Erin started floating upstream into the estuary, holding her belongings over her head and with a look of surprise on her face. Neff had to rescue her Baywatch style, tearing off her bathing suit cover-up and dropping everything she was carrying to run down the beach and pull her back to shore.

The highlight of the trip however was the sailing, snorkeling and sunset cruise us girls took with Captain Ron, his gorgeous skipper Juan, the local Terri who owned one of the bars in town, her husband the local pot purveyor, and a couple on their honeymoon. I don’t think the honeymooners liked us much... After a few too many shots of rum with the captain and locals (one of which sent Erin rushing to the side of the boat to puke exclaiming “I don’t like tequila”) we decided to swim with the “dolphins” (there were no dolphins) by being pulled behind the sailboat holding on to some rope lines. With life jackets on we were completely safe and our only risk was losing our bikini bottoms due to the speed at which we were being pulled. To avoid that potential embarrassment we opted to take off the bottoms while in the water. Yea, those poor honeymooners had to spend a few moments of their romantic sunset cruise with four drunk girls hooting and hollering and their bare white asses bobbing up and down in the water like dolphins playing in the waves.

We wrapped up our week long trip and said good bye to the guys as they continued south to find more surf. A little beat up from the week, we splurged for a rental car and nice hotel close to the airport for our last night in the country.

Costa Rica (2006)

Karma’s a bitch. After giving Erin so much hell about her misadventures in Costa Rica, it was inevitable that I would suffer a similar fate when I returned a few years later with my parents and sister. Like Erin, I ended up covered in red spots, swollen and uncomfortable.

Before I even left for the trip, I decided to get my side burns and back waxed (thanks Portuguese heritage). I didn’t realize at the time, but waxing these areas for the first time can result in skin irritation, including puffiness and red dots. I, not surprisingly, ended up with both. Clearly off to a good start.

With the lessons learned from my first trip to Costa Rica, the family flew directly into Liberia and rented a car for the remaining hour’s drive to Playa Langosta, the nice beach just south of Tamarindo where Erin almost got lost in the river. Pulling into town brought back all of the memories and an immediate craving for Lizano Salsa, that heavenly sauce that the locals put on everything from scrambled eggs to their rice and beans.

With a better, and more sober, grasp on the town and plans for the week, my mom and I decided to sign up for a kayaking trip up the mangrove-lined estuary of Tamarindo Wildlife Refuge while my dad and sister surfed. It was going to be a great bonding trip with my mom.

There was a group of about 20 of us, all in tandem kayaks and we were going to paddle into the estuary, hopefully see some howler monkeys, avoid the crocodiles and be back in a few hours. My mom and I got into our kayak, me in front, and we were on our way. The estuary was beautiful, if not a little creepy given the muddy waters and unknown creatures lurking just below the surface. The further upstream we went the more narrow the channels became and the lower the branches of the trees were. At some point during an especially narrow passage, I got my paddle stuck directly above my head in one of the tree branches. With the flow of water going in one direction and me trying to push the paddle down in the other direction, I ended up whacking the tree branch a few times… clearly a few too many times. A few moments later I started to feel a few bites on my shoulders and then heard my mother exclaim “oh my gosh Lisa, you are hitting a wasps nest!” Yes, three feet directly above my head was a nest of either wasps or really angry ants that were now raining down on me and my body as I whacked the tree. Torn between jumping into the murky water (with potential crocodiles) or trying to paddle away, we somehow managed to get away from the tree, out into the open and get the bugs off of me. I was visibly shaken and each welt was starting to swell. Upon seeing my red marks and seeing that the rest of the kayakers were a bit in shock, our guide decided to turn us around and head back to the ocean and beach.

Just as I had laughed at Erin with all of her ailments, Dana returned the favor and enjoyed making fun of me and my misery. I spent the rest of my few nights in Costa Rica covered in red welts with swollen hands, ears, face, back, pretty much swollen everything. The good news thankfully, is that a few cold beers cures everything, and I knew where the happy hours were!

South Africa (2005)

After getting fully infected with the travel bug, I set the lofty goal of seeing six of the seven continents before my 25^th birthday… I was leaving Antarctica for my 40^th birthday. By my twenty fourth birthday, I had only Africa left on my list. And realizing that going to Africa was probably out of the budget (both monetary and time-wise) for most friends my age, I made the best decision ever and asked my mom if she wanted to join me! We signed up for a three week tour of South Africa, Swaziland and Zambia, got all of our necessary shots and were on our way.

Just a quick 30+ hour flight later and we officially landed in Cape Town, South Africa, more than a little jet-lagged and fully experiencing the “oh fuck” factor of being in a completely different and new place. And it was on our first night in town, as my mom tried to call my dad from the hotel room, that I was informed that this trip would be the longest amount of time she had ever been away from my dad since they started dating in high school. This statement clearly stuck with me throughout the rest of the trip and might have been why there were more than a few occasions where I thought to myself… “Dad is going to kill me if mom dies”.

Come to find out, in Africa, there are more than a few ways to experience that fear… The first time was on the river cruise in hippo infested waters (they are the most deadly animals in Africa) and the second time was crossing into Zimbabwe to see the other side of Victoria Falls (it was and still is on the no travel list and we had to pass at least 16 heavily armed officials in army gear to reach our destination.) And it definitely crossed my mind at least a dozen other times including the river cruise where a puff adder tried to swim on board, walking through a grassy knoll on the edge of a forest where I was positive lions lived and even walking past the leopards cage while wine tasting in Stellenbosch.

Other than the irrational fear of my mom dying (and me somehow not) the trip was an incredible experience. The countries visited were beautiful and the landscapes changed drastically each day. In addition, it opened my eyes to things outside of my comfort zone. I still vividly remember leaving a small village in tears after taking a picture of a family (at their request) only to have the father demand money from me for said picture. I was dumbfounded on how to react and saddened that I accidentally committed a travelling snafu.

Other highlights of the trip included:

Cape Town on the First Day

Checking out the penguins... the "raccoons" of South Africa

The views from Table Mountain

Wine Tasting in Stellenbosch

If given the chance, you have to ride an ostrich

Oysters in Knysna

Saying goodbye in Swaziland

Off on safari in Kruger National Park

River cruise... in hippo infested waters

Victoria Falls from Zambia

Victoria Falls from Zimbabwe

We flew home after the three weeks feeling a little more aware, a little more in awe and a little more humbled by the experience. My dad picked us up at the airport and it turns out he too had undergone a life changing experience in our absence, albeit a more physical change…he shaved off his mustache, one that he had had since I was born.

Brazil/ Argentina (2004)

I am not sure why or how I chose to go to Brazil and Argentina… there must have been an email and package deal because somehow we had flights and hotels booked for a 7 night vacation to Buenos Aires and Rio de Janerio.

I had previously gone to Europe and Costa Rica, but this trip felt like my first real trip abroad, to someplace exotic and completely different. In hindsight, during the trip I was so overly cautious about everything, avoiding certain neighborhoods, being out at night, etc. that I am sure I missed out on quite a bit... if I only knew how my caution (or soon to be lack thereof) would change over the years.

According to the pictures from the trip, we did the following!

Toured the different neighborhoods in Argentina, found a flea market and saw an impromptu tango show on the street.

Shopping in Buenos Aires

Checking out the local soccer stadium

Enjoyed Chandon champagne (clearly unaware or concerned at the time about drinking the local wines) at a dinner and Tango show…. It was also possibly my birthday?

We had a friend of a friend, Marcelo, show us around Rio, checking out his favorite spots including the best Brazilian BBQ spot, a hike through the rain forest in the middle of the city, an introduction to acai bowls and a crazy night out on the town.

Marcelo (second from the left) and his friends

We took the cog wheel train to Christ the Redeemer… it was foggy

We also went to the top of Sugarloaf…foggy once again.

Argentina and Brazil was a quick trip and I truly feel like I didn’t get a chance to fully experience either country due to the limited time and being so timid to wander off the beaten path. Thankfully, I got a chance to experience South America properly just a few years later with our trip to Chile.

Thailand (2005)

Of all the places to go in Asia, Thailand was at the top of the list… and what better way to experience the country and renowned beaches than on your very own chartered sailboat! Or at least that is what I thought. I convinced Dana and her high school friend Jenny to join me and we just needed to round up three others to join to make it economically feasible. We put the deposit down on the boat, with tentative commits from five others and figured it would all work out. And then the massive tsunami destroyed Thailand, killing thousands of people and friends got worried and everyone bailed. Attempting to charter a sailboat without everyone fully on board and paid up would be the first, but definitely not the last, time I made a poor decision money-wise when traveling.

With the sailboat off the table and most beaches shut down due to the devastation of the tsunami, Dana, Jenny and I modified our plans… we were to spend some time in Bangkok, then Phuket and wrap up the trip with a short stay in Koh Samui.

In Bangkok we checked out the massive outdoor market (buying clothes, jewelry and paper flowers), we took rides on the famous tuk tuks, we checked out the local Buddhist temple and wandered through the red light district (even taking in a ping pong show… leaving us confused, feeling a little dirty and genuinely impressed).

In Phuket we took a hike through the rain forest to a waterfall, saw a drag show and were amazed at how quickly the town had recovered after the tsunami. Jenny and Dana also went out scuba diving while I went snorkeling… where even underwater you could see the impact that the tsunami had had on the ecosystem.

Our time spent in Koh Samui was mostly on the beach… we had meals on the beach (including the best corn on the cob which was bbq-ed right in front of us), we laid out on the beach and we got Thai massages on the beach.

The week flew by but my general impression was lasting. The country was full of incredibly friendly people, who went out of their way to bring the tourism business back to life. Thai food in Thailand is unreal and has ruined any imitations that I could get in the US. And Thai ice tea is surprisingly not called Thai ice tea in Thailand, but rather milk tea, which is something I finally learned on the last day of the trip.

Australia (2003)

As noted before, through happenstance, my group of college girlfriends became friends with a group of guys from Australia. And after three years of winters with them visiting us girls in Cal Poly, I returned the favor and visited them in Australia!

During my first trip Down Under, I got the chance to meet their families and get a taste of their lives at home. I have already written about the time spent in Sydney so consider this the missing stories from that trip.

We landed in Australia first thing in the morning and were picked up by Ryan (we were to stay at his house for our time in town and during this time, I fell in love with his parents, Lindy and Peter.) Ryan was kind enough to give us an hour to shower and unpack before we loaded up the car to go surfing. The beach was about an hour’s drive away in one of the many national parks and the surf was apparently good.

All of the guys (Greg and Adam joined us as well) suited up, handed me my board (the shortest thing I have ever seen) and we made our way to the waves. To be fair, this was not my first time surfing (I had been out a few times with my dad in Santa Cruz and had played around in the waves in Hawaii) but I actually wasn’t planning on really surfing, just paddling out and sitting on the board so I could hang out with everyone. So I did just that: I paddled out and hung out with the guys while they caught a few waves. But I eventually got cold and decided to head back in to lay on the beach. As I paddled back to shore, one of the guys yelled “watch out Pep, there is a serious shore break.” Yeah, yeah, I thought, I got this. But no, I did not have this. A few yards from the beach a massive wave came up and pummeled me to the ground. By the time I stood up another wave took me out. That shore break really was no joke. I finally made it out of the water with very little dignity still intact and covered in sand… I was still digging sand out of my hair two days later. And true to Aussie form, the guys still give me shit about it.

Thankfully that was our only day of surfing. We spent two more days in Sydney with the guys and then headed north to explore Airlie Beach and take a two night sailing cruise to the Whitsunday Islands.

From there, we began making our way back to Sydney with a detour to Newcastle which we used as a home base for wine tasting in the Hunter Valley region. Wine tasting in Australia was awesome. Every winery we went to we were able to speak to the actual wine makers and hear directly from them about their grapes and wines. And at each tasting, we somehow discussed how I was going to start my job as an accountant shortly after the trip ended... to which everyone seemed shocked. I clearly didn’t fit the normal stereotype of an accountant… little did they know I would become the world’s dorkiest accountant.

We wrapped up the trip of Australia with one more night in Sydney with the guys and our new extended family. Thankfully my promises to return and keep in touch were not empty. Now I just need to get the kiddos over there!

Croatia and Austria (2006)

After succeeding in my goal to see six continents before I was 25, I officially had the travel bug but I also wanted to have a deeper, more meaningful experience in each country that I traveled to. It was this desire that led me to volunteer with Habitat for Humanity International in Szarvas Hungary (something I would do again in 2008). While the build was in Hungary, I wanted some time beforehand to see some sights and celebrate my birthday.

I flew into Austria (where I spent one night in Vienna) and then headed to Croatia for a few nights by myself... it was the first time traveling abroad by myself.

While in Vienna, I stayed in a cheap hostel (where I randomly ran into a family friend from my childhood...the Lafayette connections run wide and deep). However hostel reservations aside, I had done little to no research on what to do or see in town so I asked the people at the hostel. They pointed me in the direction of the main square and assumed I wanted to see the famous church. I had no idea what famous church they were referring to, so I wandered around a bit and found a smallish church in the area that seemed historical (this is before I realized that all European towns have churches on every corner and typically have one massive historically significant one). I took a few pictures of the small church and continued exploring. Just a few blocks later I stumbled upon St Stephens Cathedral, the famous church that everyone came to see and I didn’t know existed. I suppose next time I should have done a little more planning.

The "famous" church

Some other famous building...

After my one night in Vienna I hopped on a regional flight to Croatia where I was to spend a few nights, including my birthday, before meeting up with the group back in Vienna. The flight was definitely a budget airline…we flew out of Bratislava and rules were relaxed… on our walk out to the plane two eastern European ladies took the opportunity to have one last smoke on the tarmac.

We landed in Dubrovnik after the short flight and I took a cab along the narrow winding cliffs to the cute little apartment I had booked. The apartment was walking distance to the beach and a short bus ride to the walled city so I split my time between exploring the historical town and laying out on the beach where I splurged for the lounge chair and umbrella. I spent my birthday evening eating the best mussels (beard and all) and enjoying a cold beer.