Travel Is the Best
Travel Is the Best
but you have to get there first and get home after.
I just got home from three weeks away, both to my beloved Italy then to Istanbul for the first time. Often when I travel to Italy I focus on co-hosting a tour with my dear friend Elizabeth Minchilli and have just a few days before and after to decompress. This trip was a bit more expansive allowing me time to truly sink into a state where my mind could cut back on its incessant chatter and allow new vistas and ideas to flow in and replenish my brain and body. So much of what I crave when I’m depleted is natural beauty. The gentle hills of Umbria with its golden fields and still green forested areas topped with historical hill towns to explore has for decades been my sweet spot where I exhale, deeply. This time especially was deeply restorative, partly because although I arrived at Rome’s Fiumicino airport, I didn’t stop in the city, instead opting to take transport directly to Elizabeth’s house in the countryside outside of Todi. I love Rome but I knew enough to know that trudging through a hot crowded city wasn’t what I needed during those first few days away. When traveling it’s important to really think through what you need and set aside what you think you should do. I’m lucky to have friends who envelop me with care and a shower with good water pressure when I arrive jet lagged and sweaty.
Going to Istanbul was a last minute decision in response to a surprising invitation from an acquaintance (now friend) who found herself planning six days in a fabulous city and no one to share it with. Each week I’m gone means the Good Food team has to rev up and create/write/record an additional show before I leave so I was relieved that my lovely colleagues were on board to take on the extra work involved. Istanbul was mind blowing. Imagine a city that’s a love child of Mexico City and Rome with the Anatolian imprint and water everywhere. It’s massive and complex with a huge population and a plethora of neighborhoods each with their own character. I’ll devote an upcoming newsletter to my experiences there.
OK, now let’s talk about getting there and back, the actual travel part of traveling. Yes, in the summer of 2022 it’s a nightmare. Reading the horror stories over the past couple days of people spending hours in security and check-in lines makes me feel lucky. Going wasn’t so bad. It’s always (3-5) hours in the airport(s) and (13-15) in the air, especially now when there are almost no direct flights to Rome from LA. I continue to mourn the death of Norwegian Air nonstop service to Rome which had an affordable semi business class. Please, please bring back international service Norwegian! The older I get the harder it is to physically deal with tiny seats and restricted leg room. But premium economy in Swiss Air was fine as was the quick stop in Zurich for my flight to Rome. Going was blessedly free of hiccups. I cannot say the same for returning. If I hadn’t changed my plans and had returned on my scheduled flight from Rome maybe all would have been fine but given what’s going on though, probably not. Two days before I was to leave Istanbul to come home I received a notice from Lufthansa/United that my (two) flights home (Ist-Frankfurt-LA) were cancelled. Just as my heart stopped I received another notice that I had been rebooked on (three) new flights and would be adding Chicago to my list of connections. (IST-Frankfurt-Chicago-LA). Immediately I thought, well that’s an additional opportunity for my bag to get lost. But I was grateful to see that at least my premium economy class hadn’t been downgraded. These days it’s the small things, right? I also saw that I would be leaving at 6am which meant being at the airport at 4am which would necessitate a cab at the hotel at 3am. Just reading that makes me queasy.
I’m no stranger to early am flights from Europe home and I really hate them, Waking up that early before 24 hours of travel compounds jet lag and exhaustion. So I decided to book a room at Yotel, an airport hotel in the new huge and gorgeous Istanbul airport. They have hotels airside and landside eg. after and before security. It was expensive but the full night of sleep was worth it. After I booked and paid for my room my flight changed to the afternoon. Oh well. I slept a full 8 hours, had breakfast and was able to write the Good Food Newsletter. I left Yotel full of optimism for my journey home. The first leg was delayed, twice. Apparently there is an impact on European flights due to military transports to and from Ukraine. Military flights have priority so commercial flights have to wait. Which meant that my already thin connection through Frankfurt would be impossible. But then, a Miracle. There were so many of us making that connection that they held the plane. I felt so bad for everyone who was made to wait. And wait. As you transit from country to country you have to go through passport checks. In Europe it’s generally painless since there is widespread use of face recognition technology. We trade convenience and efficiency for dystopia. What a surprise. But security is another thing altogether.
The Frankfurt screening area was a nightmare. There were two scanners open for hordes of us. The one I was in was being managed by a Mister Bean type character who made me want to laugh and cry at the same time. I had to hold my rapidly unhinging psyche together so as not to become another video captured meme. But finally I was on the long haul portion of the trip. I could settle in for the 9 hours from Frankfurt to Chicago. I used to be able to sleep on planes. Except for one or two drooling, REM filled naps I envied my neighbors who spent the entire flight in dreamland. I fidget. I’m told fidgeting uses up calories, so there’s that. Finally we arrive in Chicago.
I’d been up and in airports and in the air for almost 24 hours. I stagger out of the plane with my purse and KCRW tote bag to walk to baggage claim/customs/passport check. You go through customs/passport control in the first US city you land. Thank god I have Global Entry and didn’t have to stand in the endless passport control line to get back into the US. While I’m waiting for my bag to appear so I can go through customs I get a text from Lufthansa telling me my bag didn’t make the flight in Frankfurt and was now being rebooked. I am so exhausted and pissed off that I walk through the wrong door and am now out of the “sterile” security transit area so I have to find and go through another security screening. I do, then run (ok not really run) to find the United gate. Apparently I leave my new laptop behind. (I won’t know this until I’m home and showered). When I get to the gate in Chicago what do I find? Another delay, of course. I now feel sick to my stomach and am convinced covid which I’ve managed to avoid so far is coming for me. I want to cry like an infant and have a toddler tantrum. I spend my time at the gate texting my friend (who stayed with kitty Harry and who kindly (foolishly) agreed to pick me up) a zillion unnecessary messages about when I might land. Finally I get on the last leg of the trip. The four and a half hours do not fly by. I land and immediately go to the United Lost Baggage Desk because I have so much energy. Ha! They are kind and take my report and tell me my bag is still in Frankfurt but that after a few days it will be flown to LA and delivered to me. We’ll see. It’s the 4th of July weekend after all. Someone should create a television series around these lost baggage people. They are basically detectives who encounter exhausted, pissed off people from all over the world who are describing beloved and bizarre luggage contents. Call it Lost Baggage. I’d watch that sitcom. Just credit me for original story idea please. It’s 1:30am when I get picked up and my friend and I stop at Lucy’s on La Brea for Chile Relleno burritos which they make very well. I get dropped off, my kitty greats me and I stagger into my abode, rip off my now disgusting flop sweat clothes and take a short but blissful shower. I make myself a cup of tea, not really, it was a gin and tonic and relax. After an hour I go to get my computer and realize I don’t have it.
It takes me another hour to figure out how to track it and who to call and email. I see it sitting on the second floor of Terminal 2 in the Chicago airport. The kind airport police lost and found woman tells me it sounds like it’s at TSA screening. She gives me their number to call. I call, get a message telling me who to email. I receive an email telling me to expect to hear from them within three business days. I still see my computer sitting in the same place and am relieved that is hasn’t left the airport. I’m home. I did nothing all day but try to relax and I remembered that I still have my old laptop. It’s the small things, right? The big lesson for traveling now is submission and distraction. Bring books or a kindle or your craft project and be prepared to wait. It’s an excellent time to explore train travel.
With all that, do travel. (And always get travel insurance). Whatever age you are leave home and go out in the world to see other places and talk to people who live different lives than you do. I started traveling when I was seventeen. It changed my life. Curiosity feeds me. Travel feeds curiosity. It’s a virtuous circle. And it’s delicious.
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July 16 - Our World Is a Family
Ford Theater, produced in partnership with Miry’s List
July 17 - The Dish: Stories and Bites from Five Notable Chefs
Aloud at the Skirball