Planning a vacation in the midst of coronavirus

One week after we purchased tickets to Europe, Italy got hit with exponentially growing numbers of coronavirus cases. A little over a week later, our home state of Washington became the epicenter of the virus in the U.S.

Genoa, 2018

So what do we do? I wish we could see into the future. In the meantime, we can only do what we can do. Which has included these things:

1. Check the CDC Travel Advisory site daily. It doesn't predict the future, but it is the best place to determine the current state of things. We have just weeks before our trip, and things will change quite a bit between now and then, and even after we arrive. But currently there are no advisories against traveling to our destinations (we're not going to Italy).

2. Keep calm and carry on. The spread will likely continue, and there's nothing we can do about it on a global scale, except for individual measures that will hopefully contribute to a better outcome. It also helps to not check the New York Times several times a day - once daily is probably enough. The media critic in me is reminding myself to observe word choice in headlines and photo selections as well, knowing how much power they have in characterizing and framing the situation. Times like these make ugly, xenophobic people out of us. It is tragic that people have died but it shouldn't cause us to fear our fellow human or contribute to the fear mongering. Stay calm and use common sense.

Buenos Aires, 2017

3. Find out what Rick Steves is doing. I'm half joking, but I actually found the Rick Steves tours site to be a helpful barometer of feelings over the "should we or shouldn't we travel" question, with links to good resources. 

4. Pick a final decision date on whether to go or stay home. We will make our decision later this week. We feel better about the option to cancel now that it appears that Delta, through whom we booked, may offer complementary changes per their website. It's too soon to know our financial responsibility. We haven't booked much else yet, and if we go, we'll probably plan on the fly as I doubt we'll have trouble finding places to stay as thousands have canceled their plans.

5. Get a flu shot. I already got one this fall, but this helps keep us from getting sick and becoming more susceptible to other illnesses...like the coronavirus.

Paris, 2016

6. Understand the coronavirus and its symptoms. It's bad to compare it to the flu because doing so aids in the spread of it. There is no vaccine for this, and it's deadlier than the flu as far as we know, therefore we should not be cavalier about it. But in our everyday lives, it should feel like living through a regular cold and flu season. I'm personally quite glad that more people are learning to wash their hands properly. As a young person with healthy lungs, I have low concerns about what might happen to me if I contract it. I do want to protect the more vulnerable, though, and my personal actions matter.

7. Follow the rules and guidelines as we receive them, which includes those at my own workplace. We have moral obligations to not put others at risk.

8. If our trip takes place, prepare for new surprises once we're there. Right now, this is the biggest area of consideration. Though we're not going on a cruise, attending a large public event, or staying in hotels, there's still a chance we could get sick and/or be quarantined. We'll bring extra items like disinfecting wipes, ibuprofin and other medications, and tissues. Other surprises could be less severe but still disappointing, of course, like places being closed or travel being delayed or diverted. On the other hand, we may enjoy good deals, smaller crowds, and do our tiny part to help local economies.

Tulum, 2015

9. Get our affairs in order at home. This is good to do no matter the situation. In the event we are delayed on our trip home, we made sure our housesitter was available to stay an extra couple of weeks. We'll stock up on extra supplies for her to take care of our pets, and hope she stays healthy, too.

10. Check my passport expiration date. Thank god I did this. Before the coronavirus mayhem, I realized a day after we bought our tickets that my passport was due to expire a couple days after we would return. I thought that was OK, but then learned that you must have three months beyond the date of your return before your passport expires. Why? Because of situations just like these. You don't want to be unexpectedly stuck in a quarantine for 14 days in another country on your way home and find out your passport is no longer valid. (Also, some countries might not even let you enter in the first place.) I renewed it and all is well there.

Bologna, 2013

In general, travel is an exercise in overcoming fear, whether it's fear in flying, the unknown, or saying the wrong thing. I believe the "travel bug" exists because so many of us have grown by getting out of our comfort zones and routines, trusting humanity and realizing how beautiful the world is beyond what we know. It's a high unlike any other. And this situation is really testing everything that I believe. That's why I find myself constantly checking myself, asking whether I'm being reckless in wanting to go, or if, in staying home, I'll kick myself for playing it safe.

Regardless of coronavirus, it's all but impossible to know what to expect when you travel. Nearly all of my travels abroad have forced me to be nimble. I can't think of one international trip where this wasn't the case...whether it's metro strikes, canceled flights, bad weather, going to the wrong train station, concerns about terrorism, or that one time we missed a flight because we stopped for a croissant, these misadventures are the memories of my life. They can be fun while being totally unpredictable. The fewer expectations we have going in, the less disappointed, and potentially more delighted, we may be.

Don't get me wrong - if we do go, this could be the worst trip we've ever taken. We could be stuck in airports or train stations, extremely sick, separated, and desperate to come home. Or something could happen at home that causes us to shorten our trip. But couldn't this happen without the coronavirus, too?

What I want to remember,

but didn't necessarily photograph:

The snow forecast, the troubleshooting, the kindest customer-service women of Alaska Airlines, the canceled flight, the better flight, the hour Joel spent shoveling the car out of our parking spot only to high-center at the end of the block.

Lake Havasu City, AZ

The feeling of relief, walking away from the car garage into the airport.

Free wine from the flight crew to Vegas to make up for the delay that actually saved our bacon.

Driving through the dark two-lane desert highway and Joel and I both thinking to play this song.

Seeing loved ones' faces in new places.

Behind us, a transplanted bridge from London, aka "the" London Bridge

Sleeping deeply in a quiet, dark room, and waking up to different bird sounds.

Sockless days.

The thrift stores of Lake Havasu City.

Metal sculpture and gravel arrangements in front yards. Purple flowers that sting worse than nettle.

Joel's expert steering of the minivan going backward down a steep, curving driveway.

Late night discussion of art interpretation, based on a piece in the living room. Cocking our heads different ways to see new things.

Chapel, University of Redlands

Listening to the music of our college road trips on the drive back to college.

Desert monuments involving shoes, and general spectacle against dramatic and harsh landscapes.

The flustered but nice hotel receptionist, followed by a sneak-up hug from an old friend.

An orange tree outside the window.

The usefulness of minivans for corralling burrito seekers, and of a box of wine glasses stashed in the back, ready to use at any moment.

The energy of independence found on a college campus.

Redlands, 2 a.m.

Not caring how much burrito I've consumed in a day.

Putting faces and places to legends.

Johnston Center Renewal

The bittersweetness of hallowed halls and how they've changed.

Learning more reasons to drink wine, like hormesis.

Tom Jones music in a Vegas restroom.

Noticing how Spokane people have a definite look when you spot them in the airport. (Hint: they don't look like Californians.)

Snow in the desert on the way to Las Vegas. A preview of life back in Spokane.

Weeks 19-22 (let's just throw in 23, too)

Where do I begin?

Italy, how about. From a car to a plane to a shuttle to a plane to a shuttle to a plane to a bus to a metro to a walk to a sweet apartment with a view of Milan on a rainy evening. The first day of 16 without any obligations, except to ourselves in enjoying the adventures and misadventures that awaited.

We journeyed from Milan to Genoa, Genoa to the Emilia Romagna region, and finally to Turin, with stops in Lake Como, Parma, Modena, Bologna, Ferrara, Alba (ish), Asti - and a final night in Frankfurt. I managed to keep a journal the whole time, which was my goal, and I also took pictures, despite my idea to only take mental pictures instead. A cute but totally stupid idea. (When you see a statue on a cathedral with its guts hanging out, how can you not capture it for your personal collection?!)

Duomo detail, Milan

Galleria Vittorio Emanuele, Milan

Basil gelato, Genoa

Lake Como

The trip was beautiful and challenging and enlightening and took more work than most trips. We developed vacation routines in short spurts. We met and addressed our usual challenges in traveling together, with my proclivity to be a tourist (and ability to sight-see for hours) and Joel's to blend in as a local (and find time for naps and downtime), and made new discoveries about why we travel. We almost figured out the non-rules of Italian roads. We balanced each other in stressful situations. We found moments that reminded us of other places we've been and people (and dogs) we love, and felt wistful. We slept on hard beds.

Genoa

Menomoka, in Modena

Nearly every evening was ushered in with Aperol spritzes and potato chips. I stuffed myself (uncomfortably, at times) with gelato, pasta, cured pork products, focaccia, and maybe not enough cheese, if I'm honest.

In Palazzo Rosso, Genoa

Dozza

Genoa apartment view

Giro d'Italia after Barolo tasting

Modena, from the duomo

View of Serralunga from Azienda Agricola Rivetto, where we tasted wine

House dog, Luna, Castel San Pietro Terme

Serralunga viewpoint, near Alba

Genoa

Lake Como

Sforzesco Castle detail, Milan

I keep thinking of the faces of people with whom we shared small transactions and larger conversations. They didn't mean much to me in the moment, though I knew they would provide the color to the memories of our time there.

The people I don't want to forget:
-Luisa, our host in Milan, who asked us to remove our shoes when at the apartment. She is vegan and had a beautiful collection of plants. She had a framed collection of autographs on the wall in the entry way. She was relieved when Joel spoke Italian to her (this would be a recurring theme on this trip). (We climbed 94 steps to her top floor apartment, multiple times per day.)

-The unnamed woman who met us at our apartment in Genoa, who awkwardly, mostly wordlessly, gestured around the apartment to show us around, and opened the fridge and pointed out the wine that was ours to be enjoyed. (It was enjoyed.) Also, only one person at a time on this antique opium bed.

-The Lisa Bonet look-alike who served us at Lanificio in Turin. I didn't like her vibe and she smirked at Joel when he ordered his drink, as though he were clueless. I ordered a glass of wine and she looked at me blankly, so I said it again. We got two of whatever Joel ordered - out of spite or out of miscommunication, it will never be known why.

-The guy who sang every night on the Vittorio Veneto piazza in Turin with his portable sound system, the same five songs. I gave him my last Euro on our final night there.

Piazza Vittorio Veneto, Turin

-The woman who helped us with our bike subscription in Turin. She did the whole thing in English, and when Joel complimented her on her English (in Italian), I half expected her to hug and kiss him. She was so pleased.

ToBike selfie, Turin

-Angelo, our dad in Emilia Romagna. He made us breakfast every morning (warm-but-not-toasted bread, butter and jam, warm and cold milk, coffee, juice, yogurt) and spoke nary a word of English, but his warmth and kindness spoke to us.

-Jacopo, Angelo's son, who was slightly pompous, but helpful in providing ideas of where to go and how to get around the region. He "plays with engines" at his job working for Ferrari.

-The server and the host at the restaurant we visited twice in Turin. The host had a Rob Reiner look about him, and after apologetically telling us of the 20 minute wait for a table, handed us some sparkling wine with a smile. We had the same server both times, and she seemed a little cold on our first visit. Upon our return, she remembered us and what we each ordered from two nights earlier as she made suggestions. Again, she appreciated Joel's efforts in Italian and complimented him. It was busy that second night. "I am sorry, it has been a hard night," she said at the end of the meal. She shook our hands and thanked us when we left the restaurant. A perfect final meal in Italy.

Gran Madre, Turin

-Haj, the bespoke tailor from London who we met at a Meet Up for English speakers, and someone I would be friends with if we lived closer. Her portrayal of overly-attentive Turinese retailers was spot-on.

-The guy at Wild Mazzini who explained all the data visualizations to us at the tiny gallery.

-The German server in Frankfurt who apologized for the German-ness of not providing food past 10 p.m. at the outdoor lounge at our hotel. He found some peanuts to tide us over after our delayed flight.

I'm not sure what else to say. It already feels forever ago. I'm glad I kept that journal.

If you want to look at a larger jumble of pictures, out of order and unorganized, be my guest: The Entire Italy Album (It's daunting, but I hope to add labels soon.)

Summer Journal: Week 5

How I used up some zucchini this week. Added prosciutto, pasta and basil. Recipe from Bon Appetit

We later found out it was National Hot Dog Day on the day that Joel made our own rendition of choripan. I preferred this. Smoked sausage, split lengthwise on a good bun with tomato, herby mayo, greens AND HASHBROWNS.

Apricots that were actually good!

A visit from Joel's folks before we all headed up to the cabin for the weekend. Ceviche at Zona Blanca.

Margot sidled up to her new favorite wine.

The family looks on as Luna goes on a test run on the boat.

She got her sea legs.

On Saturday morning I had some time to myself for a nice long walk.

Family photo

And then my phone died. And then I got a stomach bug on our final morning there that lasted through Monday night. I lay on the couch for hours and watched two episodes of Grantchester with the cat on my lap. I finished East of Eden (wow). I started Sherman Alexie's new memoir. And I weeded the front garden beds. Now it's back to a frenzy of getting stuff ready for another weekend away, and settling into August.