Travel – Lissa Johnston, Writer

El Camino Real

lissajohnston@gmail.comJuly 5, 2020July 29, 2020Leave a comment

I used to have a fairly long work commute. I remember at one point, there was cause for celebration as a construction project scheduled for completion finally removed its last traffic cone, only three months late. Ahh, blessed relief! as this reduced my commute from 55 pressure-filled minutes, to 48.

I shouldn't be so stingy in my appreciation. After all, I had the luxury of choosing well-paved interstate or paved two- or four-lane thoroughfares (including shoulders!) both ways, cones or no cones. But a simple walk through the nearby wooded state game lands recalls a time when 'roads' were little more than well-trodden walking paths, which were previously well-trodden goat tracks, which previously had been muddy sluices created by rainwater seeking the path of least resistance. Only a few generations separate highway from wildlife trail, and the El Camino Real is proof.

2014 marked the ten year anniversary designating Texas' El Camino Real as a National Historic Trail. The 'Royal Road' has been guiding travelers from Mexico through San Antonio and Nacogdoches into Louisiana for more than 300 years. Modern roads still follow its general path, including Texas Highway 21.

Looking at the map, it is easy to take the USA-centric view and assume the road sprang from Louisiana and expanded southwest. Quite the opposite! It expanded from Mexico as a means to connect with Spanish outposts bordering French-held lands in Louisiana.

El Camino Real was witness to hundreds of years of history. Thousands, if you consider its pre-Spanish origins as Native American trading path. It is also a focal point of some of my historical interests:

Spanish exploration: it was an outgrowth of the Spanish pushing north after the conquest of Mexico by Hernan Cortes in 1521. My first published book was a children's biography of Spanish explorer Alvar Nunez Cabeza de Vaca. What a story! His expedition shipwrecked near Galveston. He spent many years wandering Texas and Mexico. He may have crossed El Camino Real in his quest to make it back to civilization.

French exploration: El Camino Real also has a tangential role in the saga of French explorer Robert La Salle, who may have been murdered near where the road passes the Trinity River at Keechi Creek. This might also be a good time to mention one of my works-in-progress (working title La Belle) is partly inspired by the story of La Salle's doomed Texas colony, and therefore also has an El Camino Real connection.

Archaeologist Al McGraw's article on El Camino Real has tons more info. Now that I no longer have a commute, I can go down that rabbit hole.

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Traveling Cats: 6 Hard Lessons Learned

lissajohnston@gmail.comMarch 17, 2019March 4, 2019Leave a comment

Anyone who has traveled with a cat will tell you this is not an easy task. Cats hate transportation, regardless of type or duration. Whether it is across town to the vet's office or across the country is immaterial. As a veteran of several long-distance moves with small children and pets, I have acquired a few handy travel tips. They have come to me one by one, usually resulting from some sort of traumatic experience.

#1. Cats Understand English.

Our most recent feline considered herself lucky, because that was her name (ha!). Risking a gross understatement, I must say Lucky did not travel well. At first mention - not sight, mention - of the cat carrier, or the kennel, or the vet, she bolted and hid under a bed. Then we began our little game called Cat Trap. To play this game requires a long-handled item, such as a broom or a full-size umbrella (in the 'down' position). An additional player is nice, but not necessary. Begin the game by selecting any room in the house that has a door. Inspect the room carefully for your cat. Pay special attention to their usual hiding places, such as under the bed, behind the clothes in the closet, behind the curtains, and so on. Once the room is declared 'cat-free', close the door and move on to another room. Continue until said cat is located. If you have played this game correctly, you will be able to ambush the cat before it streaks off to a new hiding place, as all the good hiding places are now inaccessible. The broom or umbrella comes in handy if your cat likes to hide under the bed, smack-dab in the middle. It is useful for 'encouraging' your cat to emerge. Careful! This is a tool of persuasion, not an instrument of torture.

#2. Cats Do Not Travel Well.

The trusty pet carrier by no means insures a safe and worry-free trip. We learned this lesson when we moved from Toledo to Kansas City, our first move with Lucky. We weren't even out of Lucas County before Lucky started yowling her head off in her carrier. Thinking we could remedy the situation, we let her out of the carrier. She promptly did some extraordinarily nasty "business" on my husband's brand new jacket. That was our signal to pull over for a rest stop and exercise the animals (I know, I know - too little, too late).

#3. Cats Have Little Regard For Leashes.

We were feeling confident about a rest stop for the animals, because we had Lucky on a leash. If you have never seen a cat on a leash, you are in for a treat. Your eyes take in the leash and send the "leash" signal to the brain; but when your eyes get to the end of the leash and send the "cat" signal to the brain, the brain rebels. A cat??? That's supposed to be a dog!! Adding to this surrealism, Lucky developed a curious limping gait while so ensnared, as if trying to extricate herself from the leash one limb at a time. Her problem was solved by a jolt of the cat equivalent of adrenaline.

Once out of the car, our chocolate lab, Coco, did the Doggy Celebration Dance in her excitement to be free for a few minutes. Leaping and twisting in glee, Coco bounded over to encourage us to join her canine freedom frenzy. Already frazzled by her imprisonment in the carrier, Lucky freaked. She bolted, and before you could say “That Darned Cat!” we were all running around some park in Ohio, at dusk, looking for a perfectly camouflaged tabby/tortoiseshell cat. Thank goodness, the fuschia leash stayed attached to her somehow. My husband finally ran her down - literally! - by stepping on the end of the leash. After much huffing and puffing, we got her back to the safety of the car. Needless to say, she was not allowed out of her carrier for the rest of the trip.

#4. See #3.

Keeping this in mind and wishing desperately to avoid a repeat, we made careful plans before moving from Kansas City to St. Paul one August day two years later. We upgraded the leash to a HARNESS and piled into the car. The process of strapping it on the cat went something like a fitting a space suit on an astronaut. First rest stop, not even out of Missouri yet, and it was Lucky Escapes: Part II. Everything was going well, until our good friend Coco reprised her Doggy Celebration Dance. Lucky about strangled herself and half dislocated a shoulder doing a Houdini out of that new harness. The "escape-proof" contraption dangled loosely from my hand, mocking me. Lucky took off at light speed, heading for the thicket at the edge of the park area. At least it was broad daylight and we could see her a little more easily.

#5. Cats Have A Finely Tuned Sense Of Revenge.

My daughter was was borderline hysterical, wandering the perimeter of the thicket in a trance. My son was trying to be helpful. This consisted of him standing around calling, "Lucky, Lucky". You all know how most cats come a'running when you call their name . . .

I drew jungle duty: climbing the barbed wire fence, smashing down the waist-high weeds, and fighting off the mosquitoes. Every step produced a plume of golden pollen so thick, my clothes were covered in it. Wicked marble-sized stickers blanketed my socks and the laces on my sneakers; one ripped a gash in my bare upper arm. Every now and then one of us would spy Lucky, creeping along in the thick underbrush. "There she is!" one of us would shout. "Over there! Just ahead of you. Stay there, cut her off . . . dang it, there she goes!" and so on. It was 20 minutes of pure fun. At one point, I made the mistake of saying what I was thinking out loud. I didn't realize my son was within earshot. He said, "Gee, Mom, I never heard you say THAT word before. Only Dad."

#6. Cats Are Weird.

It didn't take long for me to have my fill of this. I told my daughter to forget about the (expletive deleted) cat. It was hot, I was filthy and sweaty and tired, and we needed to get back on the road. She was devastated about leaving her poor cat, but I was fed up. As I headed back toward the car, I glanced to my right, and there Lucky sat. The little devil was curled up under a dirt overhang, obscured by a tangle of exposed tree roots. She was looking right at me, still as a statue. I called to the kids to circle the wagons, made my way over to her very carefully, and picked her up just as if she was sitting on the sofa at home. All I can figure is she must have been scared stiff. I am just thankful she didn't have the courage or the spirit to run away again.

Time has passed. We are pet-free for now. But that doesn't mean the cat stories have come to an end. Quite the opposite! The family tradition has been passed on to my children. They're all grown up, with cats and cross-country moves of their own, and plenty of tales to go along with them.

Cat tail pic by Jason Leung via Unsplash

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Zippity Zoo Dah 2

lissajohnston@gmail.comMarch 3, 2019March 4, 20192 Comments

This post was originally published in 2014.

We have a pretty cool zoo in our town. They recently added a zip line course. So when my daughter and her husband visited, we decided to check it out.

If you are not familiar with a zip line, let me lay it out for you. Think of it as a mash-up of a clothes line and Tarzan's swinging vine network (if you don't know what a clothes line is, you are too young to be reading this blog). Or maybe envision a gondola ride with only one passenger (you) and no gondola car, just you sliding down the gondola cable at about 40 mph via fancy harness and cable hook.

Zip lines have been around for ages as a quick and easy way to transport goods and people across obstacles such as ravines and rivers that would not be easily passable otherwise. Zip lines as recreation emerged in the 1990s as lines originally used by scientists in the Costa Rican rain forest evolved into lucrative tourist attractions. The first zip line in the U.S. opened in Hawaii in 2002. The idea really took off 😉 Presently there are hundreds of zip line courses around the world.

We had a great time on the zip lines. If you are considering trying it, here are a few handy tips:

Find out what is involved. I vaguely knew what a zip line was. I assumed it would be fairly tame. You know what they say about people who assume.

Evaluate your priorities. I was torn about whether to take my most prized possession on the zip with me. I am talking about my phone, of course. I ended up taking it, but there were some moments during the zip where I was more terrified about what might happen to my phone than anything that might happen to me since it is at a zoo; unlike, say, at a combination bungee-jumping/parachuting/cave diving facility.

I did not plan on having to climb a rope ladder to get up to the first platform. I did not anticipate navigating a rickety bridge between zip landing stations. And I certainly was not prepared for the worst horror of all, being weighed before being allowed to participate (there is a weight limit). This was in public, people. In broad daylight. Fully clothed - including shoes! They sure don't put that in the brochure. Otherwise no woman would ever do it, guaranteed.

Dress accordingly. Don't wear anything that you would miss if you lost it. Don't wear anything that might cut off circulation once you are strapped into your harness. Don't wear anything you might ruin by soiling yourself when you realize you have to walk across thirty yards of rope bridge, fifty feet off the ground.

Choose your fellow zippers wisely. Our guide said she had seen zip liners as young as 6 and as old as 80. After we zipped and were wandering around enjoying the zoo, everyone I passed, I imagined up on the zip line with me. Believe me, there were many I was thankful had chosen not to zip that day. Not sure which would be worse, the precocious 9-year-old twins who love fidgeting with the carabiners; or the white-haired thrillseekers from the local assisted living facility.

The ideal fellow zip liner: folks like my daughter and her husband. Young, healthy, fit adults weighing well under 200 lbs each, with an expert working knowledge of camera phones. This last came in handy when I was trying to video my husband zipping toward me, but on account of my very short leash, my attempts to literally hug the tree I was leashed to 50 feet off the ground, and my hands shaking from adrenaline rush, I pushed who knows what button on my phone and all kinds of craziness ensued on the screen. Thanks again to my son-in-law, who pushed a couple buttons and got the thing back under control.

Bottom line, two thumbs up for enjoying reputable zip lines in your area. The views, exhilaration, and camaraderie were almost worth the agony of being weighed in public. Almost.

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Berlin: Brandenburg, Bikes, Beer

lissajohnston@gmail.comApril 27, 2017April 27, 2017Leave a comment

I know I promised an update on our Berlin travels. Apologies it has taken me so long to get back to one of my favorite topics! Last time I posted about this trip, I described our mid-afternoon arrival and how we spent the rest of the day. In this post, I'll pick up from there and focus on our first full day exploring Berlin.

First, though, I want to give my two cents on the issue of jet lag. We departed on an early evening flight. The long part was 7-8 hours overnight. Of that, I estimate we slept maybe 3-4 hours of questionable-quality sleep on the plane. By the time we arrived at our final destination, it was mid-afternoon their time. We went about our business and went to bed at a more or less reasonable hour. But we slept until 11 a.m. the next day! Haven't done that in probably thirty years! So my theory is: 'jet lag' is a trendy phrase for 'sleep-deprived'. We had maybe 3-4 hours sleep in about 22 hours. No wonder we slept in!

German stranger on left; my late father-in-law on right. The German fellow passed away in 1962. The photo of my father-in-law was from his wedding day in 1945-ish. There is some German on his side of the family tree . . .

As I mentioned before, the weather was unseasonably warm for September in Europe, but just about right for us southerners. We started the day with an easy walk across the street for some breakfast at a Starbucks-ish place that served coffee, tea, and all kinds of delicious breakfast options including more or less healthy fare like egg white omelet wraps and such. From there we had another easy walk of a couple of blocks to the Berlin Wall Memorial. It's a fascinating area, well worth your time. They have a display of photos of everyone who died while trying to cross from East to West Berlin. One fellow so strongly favored my late father-in-law, they could've been brothers. That was some food for thought.

Next up, and another very pleasant walk, was to Museum Island. There were many museums to choose from. But on recommendation from our daughter and son-in-law who had been there previously, we chose the Pergamon, mainly because it houses the Ishtar Gate of Babylon and I'm a sucker for monuments on a massive scale. It didn't disappoint!
We had to get back to the hotel because our son-in-law had to do a sound check for his gig. But we stopped for a nosh at one of the curry wurst shops. Curry wurst is Berlin's version of fast food. There are curry wurst shops everywhere. Curry wurst is a wurst-style sausage served with a ketchup-y sauce that apparently has some curry flavoring. Ours were served in one of those rectangular paper bowls you often see at state fairs full of cheese curds or fried mushrooms, and had a side of fries just like you would find at a McDonald's drive through. It was great, definitely a good choice if you want to sample the local Berlin fare but are not exactly a food adventurer.

On the topic food, I will also add there were dozens of restaurants in the part of
town we explored on this day. All kinds of ethnic food, just about everything you might want. It was amusing to see American food presented as a type of ethnic food. We saw several American style restaurants. Most featured hamburgers. A couple promoted themselves as Texas cuisine. I also spotted one place that sold barbecue. Our stomachs weren't large enough to sample any, but it was fun seeing them. Maybe next time!

We had just enough time before Cooper's gig at 9pm to walk down to the
Brandenburg Gate, which is one of Berlin's most famous tourist spots. It is lovely, very impressive. Many vendors congregate there, like a street fair, hoping for tips and tourist money to find its way into their pockets. We saw one fellow dressed head to toe as a Native American chief. My favorite sight, however, was the bicycle beer keg contraptions. You reserve a spot on this gigantic rolling multi-seat bicycle thing that serves beer as you ride along. Totally doing that next time.

After Brandenburg we returned to our hotel, met Coop and the other musicians, and had dinner at a great Vietnamese place called Co Chu. You'll see this will be a running theme throughout our trip: eating ourselves silly.

Just after dark we headed over to Cooper's gig which was a block or two from our hotel so again an easy walk. It was in an underground jazz club called the Schlot. Very authentic brick and exposed beams decor. Jazz is jazz wherever you find it, but audience etiquette varies, or so my daughter informed us. German audiences listen respectfully. Talking during the performance is frowned upon. And don't even think
of calling out, clapping, or otherwise expressing your approval until after the song is over. We of course wanted to avoid being the obvious noobs in the crowd (and embarrassing our son-in-law in the process), so we minded our manners. We shouldn't have worried. Part way into the first set, two gentlemen arrived and sat at a table near us. One was clearly not interested in adhering to societal norms. He yapped to his friend throughout, waved his arms along with the music, and otherwise behaved very un-German-like (although he did appear to be German from the sound of his loud discourse with his friend). The bar manager spoke to him quietly at one point, so apparently this was indeed annoying to her and presumably the other clientele.

Detail from the Ishtar Gate, Pergamon Museum

One other interesting aspect of the performance mentality in Germany: marketing/promoting is also frowned upon. You may see a sign or poster or calendar indicating dates and performance schedules. But promoting more actively such as ads in the paper or social media, is considered gauche. The logic is, if you are any good at all, word will get out and people will come. As a result, often the first night of a multi-night gig is less well attended than the following nights. So different from Americans who brag themselves up at every opportunity.

The sets went well. We adjourned to a bar across the street to celebrate their success, then retired to the hotel when we were basically dead on our feet. Our stay in Berlin was coming to a close. We were sorry to leave so soon, but very excited for our next stop: Munich! Oktoberfest!

Travel Is Enlightening (But Not Always Light)

lissajohnston@gmail.comMarch 12, 2017December 29, 2019Leave a comment

A version of this post originally appeared in 2016.

Ellis County Courthouse, Waxahachie, TX. Good luck pronouncing that correctly.

Back home now from a recent visit to Texas. The destination was nothing new - I grew up in Dallas. But traveling is always instructive if you pay attention. Some things I learned during my latest sojourn:

General travel stuff

The flight you are early for always leaves late.
The chances of your flight leaving on time (or even early! yes, it does happen! which is how I ended up spending the night at a Holiday Inn on Delta's dime recently) is directly proportional to how late you are running. Very late = very likely.
Checking a bag at the gate is the greatest idea since pop-top beer cans, especially if you don't have to worry about making connections.
Getting stranded overnight is fairly painless if the hotel is free and you haven't checked your bag.
The people whose airport jobs entail a lot of sitting on stools seem to be the ones most eager to take their breaks.
Taking off is fun every time.
Airplane wheels thumping back into the undercarriage is scary every time.
Handbags are useless for travel unless they can be carried over a shoulder.
If your travels take you through the Atlanta airport, wear comfortable shoes.
If you have less than a one hour layover through ATL, you will not make your connection.
Always let the ladies in heels go ahead of you on the airport escalators, bless their hearts.
Stepping onto a Down escalator with a heavy carry-on in one hand and a purse in the other, while wearing bifocals, is the closest I'll ever get to competing on American Ninja Warrior.
Having a family of readers who love to pass their books along is great, but makes for a heavy carry-on. Ebooks, people!
If I'm going to continue carrying this many real books in my carry-on, I need to get in better shape or get a carry-on size bag with wheels.
If you don't think losing 5 pounds will make much difference, try getting from ATL terminal T to D with a 20 lb. carry-on. Now I know why the pioneers dumped their heavy stuff all up and down the Oregon Trail.
What is with the creepy billboards at ATL? One was a slightly menacing message from a cyber security outfit. Another advertised software to 'influence' customer decisions. Big Brother, anyone?

Texas Stuff

Every time I go to Texas, I discover a new favorite beer.
Believe it or not, there is such a thing as too much Tex Mex.
Believe it or not, there is such a thing as too much chicken fried steak with mashed potatoes and cream gravy.
Dallas has been overrun with donut shops. Add them to the list of taco stands, nail salons, and Walgreen's/CVS - there's one on every corner.
There is a heavy price to be paid for eating one's way through Texas (see what I did there?). The only thing that saved me this time: I don't like donuts.

Random Stuff

You get very little writing done until you put your cell phone away. Sadly, ditto for reading books.
Spanx are always a good idea. Always pack the Spanx just in case.
Dreds are the hair version of Hoarders.
Possums are way cuter as babies.
If NSA is creeping all of us online, how about hacking into Ancestry.com and 23andme family tree DNA data? Possibly solve some cold cases in the process, amirite?
When making your own window screens, aluminum window screen is to be avoided at all costs. Go with the fabric screen instead. 2 hours per screen vs 20 minutes. Hey - I said it was random!

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The Fun Is In The Details

lissajohnston@gmail.comJanuary 22, 2017January 19, 2017Leave a comment

One of my favorite things about traveling is discovering how other people go about their everyday lives. How are we the same? How are we different? We had barely been in Germany 24 hours and my travel journal entry for one of the first days there was dominated by a list of things the Germans do differently (and, one might argue, BETTER).

Carbonated water is a thing. Often when purchasing bottled water you will be asked if you want flat or non-flat (especially if they've sussed out that you're not from around those parts).
Many of the windows open in a V shape rather than the double-hung or winding handle types we have here. For example, when you open a traditionally shaped vertical rectangular-shaped window, the top of the window angles into the room, forming a semi-V shape in its frame. I don't know the logic behind this. Just thought it was cool.
Speaking of windows, I didn't see any screens on windows anywhere. Not saying there aren't any. I just didn't see any.
The plumbing fixtures (handles, faucets) were uber cool. Our hotel was very
We stayed at the Miniloft in Mitte near the Natural History museum. Highly recommend if you're into the contemporary style.

contemporary, so this was no big surprise. But most other places we went that had public restrooms like bars, restaurants, train stations, airports, etc., had interesting, cool fixtures as well. Yes, some of them took me a minute to figure out how to turn them on and off. One place in Munich had Harley Davidson hardware.
Speaking of plumbing: just about every public restroom also had modern toilets with buttons on the tank or even on the wall to activate the flush feature - no handles. Many have two buttons, depending on how much water volume you feel is necessary for an effective flush.
I mentioned in a previous post but since it is one of my favorites, will mention again: you can walk around town with an adult beverage. Open. Openly drinking it. People, this is what a civilized country looks like. I've lived all over the U.S., and the only two places I've been where this is allowed (outside of street festivals, of course) is the French Quarter in New Orleans and a few blocks in Savannah where the tourists tend to congregate.
Just about everyone in the tourist biz (restaurants, hotels) speaks English.
Just about everyone is very friendly.
Vintage Benz - not buttercream, not a taxi, but still a sweet ride
In Berlin , many of the taxis are late model Mercedes Benz; usually a buttercream color.
Many of the Mercedes Benz, taxis and otherwise, have no model number on the trunk like they do here. Why do you suppose this is? Are they just so familiar with the models, this would be superfluous? Or they just don't care what model, as long as it's a Benz?
As mentioned in a previous post, our cab driver in Berlin drove like a maniac. I totally was not expecting this. In Rome, maybe, but not Berlin. But since this is the land of the Autobahn, I guess I shouldn't have been surprised.
The trains are amazing - clean, efficient, on time, affordable. Why don't we have more of them here???
The train stations are amazing. We were in several during our trip. The station in Munich was our favorite place to go for snacks and coffee/tea. There was only one (Gare du Nord in Paris) that was a little down-at-the-heels. More on that in a future post.
Recycling glass and plastic bottles is a big thing. You will see neat piles of empties along the sidewalks. It's their version of giving a few coins to panhandlers - they are left for folks who turn them in for deposit money. In fact, once we were approached by someone who noticed we had just finished a bottle of water. It was weird at first, but once we realized what they wanted, it was okay.
Bicycles are ubiquitous. Many families bike together to school, parks, shops. Most wear helmets.
Generously sized sidewalks accommodate not only pedestrians but also bikes, and sometimes, parked cars.

The Berlin Tower with some of its less space-age neighbors

Modern architecture is often cheek by jowl with historical. In theory, you might find this jarring. But it was actually delightful - the modern buildings were almost like a cherry on top, nestled among their vintage neighbors.
The bedclothes in the two hotels we stayed at were interesting. My son was delighted to learn they dispense with a traditional top sheet (he's been a top sheet hater since childhood). Our queen size bed had two matching twin size comforters rather than a single queen. This is actually genius and eliminates wrestling matches over the covers - you each have your own! And the comforters are sheet fabric on the outside, and comforter on the inside. So you still have a sheet-type item on you. It's just part of the comforter, and therefore saves an extra step when making the bed.
It was amusing seeing 'American' restaurants branded as ethnic food. Burgers were the main offering. There were a few that touted themselves as Texas style barbecue. We didn't sample any (it seemed a little silly to seek out American food while traveling in Europe), but I am very curious what the Germans offer as Texas-style 'cue. One restaurant offered southern/soul food. Another had a rock-n-roll theme.
American fast food chains were commonplace. I was prepared for the McDonald's and Burger King; less so for the Subway chain, which was as ubiquitous there as it is here. Fried chicken was also quite popular. Oh, and in case you're wondering what native German fast food consists of: currywurst. It's wurst-style sausage links, cut into bite-size pieces and served in a curry sauce (like a really flavorful ketchup); usually with a side of fries like you would get at any American fast food joint.

That's all I can think of for now. Would love to hear some of your observations on the little details that make a big difference to your travel experience. Next post I'll get back on track with more scoop on our tourist trek through Berlin.

All We Need Is Warmth

lissajohnston@gmail.comJanuary 9, 2017Leave a comment

I know I promised a series of travel posts about our 2016 trip to Europe as newbie tourists. But after spending the first week of 2017 in bitterly cold South Dakota during Winter Storm Helena, I thought I would re-share this post instead. Enjoy and stay warm!

Bald Eagle Lake is under all that snow and ice

January 2001 was our third winter in the Great White North that is Minnesota. By then we had adjusted somewhat to the infamous Minnesota winters, mainly due to two things: an excellent road-clearing infrastructure, and the extreme weather clothing industry.

We lived in Minnesota for eight years, and I kid you not - we had TWO snow days. In eight years. Think about that for a minute. We had two snow days the first six months after we moved to South Carolina. That doesn't mean it didn't snow all those years in MN. Oh no. It snowed. Not inches. FEET. All those pretty little white flakes contributing to the PSC - the Permanent Snow Cover - from about December to March. But the snowplows were out there like banshees. Roads plowed pretty as you please in plenty of time for the school buses to come chugging along. Man, my kids were ticked off.

I had so many different types of coats when I lived there. Along with all the windbreakers and hoodies and sweaters and parkas, I had two super heavy, beastly thick coats. We're talkin' Jeremiah Johnson here. One was a sheepskin-type coat, buff color suede on the outside and the woolly business on the inside. But as a brunette (a 'Winter' for you gals who know your season colors) that buff color never looked particularly good on me (dead giveaway - people always asking me if I felt okay when I wore it), so when I found a similar style coat in a gorgeous dark chocolate brown for a sweet deal at a consignment store in St. Paul, I snagged it. You look at this coat and your first thought is 'buffalo hide'. A really stylish, well-tailored buffalo hide. Talk about warm! It was like walking around in a toaster oven. They were some of the first things I gave away when we got word we were transferred to South Carolina. Absolute rock-solid guaranteed lock I was never, ever going to need those coats south of the Mason-Dixon line.*

And then there was the temperature-rated footwear. I was not aware such things existed until I moved to Minnesota, and boy was I glad they did. Let's not forget the special socks, underwear, hats, gloves for wind, snow, ice, sleet, fog, and all the various combinations. Minnesota is a very clothing-intensive place. If you go there in any month other than July, you will need to pack lots and lots of extra items. Layer!! If you move there, buy a house with lots of closets and storage space - you will need it.

But I digress.

Snowplows and cold weather gear notwithstanding, I was born and raised and lived most of my first 30+ years in a warm weather climate, and not just any warm weather climate. I am a Native Texan, and when I say warm, I mean HOT, and not just your garden variety hot. We're talking preheat the (electric) oven, open it up and take a deep breath, singe your nasal hairs hot. People say if you live in a warm climate, your blood is thinner. I don't know if that is true or not but I think it is true in spirit - you just never get used to cold weather. In addition, based on my informal survey aka Common Sense, there are way more people moving south or traveling south to escape cold weather than there are those going in the other direction. Just ask Ohio and Long Island how many of their former residents now have a South Carolina zip code, and for good reason.

It was a struggle for me, getting through some of those long, cold winters. I remember the time I got an ice cream headache walking into a headwind from the parking lot into the grocery store. I think it was 4°F before wind chill calculation. Hey, at least it was above zero! Here's how crazy my thinking got after a few years up there: it wasn't cold as long as the temp was in double digits (above zero, of course). So as long as it was 10° or warmer, I could usually trick myself into bearing one more day of winter. It didn't take me long to get my thinking straight after we moved to South Carolina, where everyone knows anything below 50°F is cold. That reminds me of the time my folks (also Native Texans) were visiting and my mom kept asking me why the children we passed playing happily outside weren't wearing coats. It was probably about 50 outside, and to a Minnesotan, that's downright balmy!

Minnesota is a gorgeous place and I love my Minnesota friends. But after eight years there, I am convinced hell is not a place of fire and flame. Nope. It is icy and cold, dreary and overcast. The wind is always in your face, you are always one layer short, you've lost your only hat, and you are out of lip balm.

* Extra points if you actually know where the Mason-Dixon line is. Google if you must.

First Stop: Berlin

lissajohnston@gmail.comDecember 19, 2016January 19, 2017Leave a comment

The tips studied, the bags packed, and the potential disruptions successfully avoided, at last we departed for Berlin. We left late afternoon from the East Coast. After a stop in Atlanta, natch (when you live in the southeast, you always stop in ATL), we got down to business. Our next stop was Charles de Gaulle airport in Paris, then, finally, Berlin mid-afternoon the following day.

What a contrast between the 40-minute puddle-jumper from Columbia to Atlanta and the massive Air France winged beast taking us to Paris! This was my first time on Air France. The flight attendants were impeccably dressed, hair and makeup to perfection in the European style - barely there but perfect (the makeup, not the uniforms!). They all appeared to be multilingual. It was delightful listening to them chatter among themselves in French, then assist passengers in a variety of other languages. Air France even had a charming short film communicating our safety instructions via the small video screens embedded in the back of each head rest.

I must admit I slept very little during the seven or so hours of trans-Atlantic flight time. Some things that surprised me:

How uncomfortable the seats were. It was like trying to sleep on a cheap sleeper sofa, the kind with the metal bar right across your back placed strategically to be as uncomfortable as possible. It was plenty dark, and relatively quiet. But those seats!
Our route was projected on the video screen, so we could track our progress if we chose. If one assumes it was accurate, we basically hugged the coastline of North America until it was just a short hop over to the British Isles, then over to Paris. We weren't that far from land relatively speaking until that little bit between northeastern Canada and England. I guess I thought we would fly a straight shot from Atlanta to Paris, not up to New York, Newfoundland, and so
International terminal, Charles de Gaulle airport

forth. People tell me due to the curvature of the earth the route we took is more efficient. I couldn't help but think of the ancient mariners who kept the shoreline in sight as long as possible.

My goodness, they feed you on these long flights! And we were in economy! Meals and snacks were plentiful. By the time the last one was served not long before we landed, I seriously was thinking, 'enough, already!'.

We arrived on time in Paris, where we got our first-ever passport stamps - yay! No lines, very simple. If only all of our air travel interactions were so easy. . . Next (and final, thank goodness!) stop: Berlin.

We were greeted by a wonderful sight at Berlin airport: the smiling faces of my daughter and son-in-law. Somehow we had arranged to arrive within an hour of each other, even though they traveled separately from us as well as each other. So we piled into a cab together and headed to our hotel. I was not prepared for the insanity of a Berlin cab ride. Screeching brakes, rude gestures, loud exclamations - what an exciting welcome!

Much of Europe was experiencing a heatwave during our trip. Berlin was warm and sunny. We were too excited to sleep off the jet lag. So we hit the town on foot. Our daughter and son-in-law had been to Berlin the previous year on one of his gigs; in fact, they had stayed at the same hotel we were at this time. So they knew the area pretty well. We walked around the corner and hit the first cafe we found for a surprisingly cold stein of German pilsner. Another travel myth busted: the beer is not warm over there!

We continued our stroll and found a delightful restaurant in a park and had Swiss-style bratwurst, sauerkraut, and the German version of mac-n-cheese for dinner. Our best surprise was discovering one can stroll the town with an adult beverage in hand, purchased very reasonably from one of the many corner convenience stores. Berlin must believe in that adage about having only one chance to make a great first impression.

Travel Tips Learned The Hard Way: A Cautionary Tale

lissajohnston@gmail.comDecember 14, 2016December 19, 2016Leave a comment

I want to tell you all about my recent experience as a first-time traveler to Europe. But before we get into the oohs and ahhs, I'm gonna share with you some travel planning tips and how they translated into real live travel during our trip (see what I did there??).

One of the first things I did once we decided we were going to Europe was to Google my booty off. I spent a lot of time on Rick Steves' website. I also found a ton of info on Pinterest, believe it or not. It started with searches on what to pack and blossomed from there. And, of course, friends and family who had travel experience were very generous with advice.

My top tips:

Backpack or roller? We went with backpack-style because we are in decent physical condition. Actually they were more of a soft-sided suitcase with backpack straps. Just be careful not to overpack.
Shoes are heavy. Make them the last thing to add and the first to toss when trying to lighten your load.
Sleeping comfortably on an international economy flight won't happen unless you self-medicate. Bring something to do in case you've seen all the in-flight movies. Hydrate. Plan that first day after you arrive as a recovery day.
I'm not in love with the concept of the money belt, but I would've been much more anxious without it. I rarely took mine off. The hubs, on the other hand, was not a fan, and usually left his in the hotel room safe. Having said that, we had absolutely no safety issues in almost three weeks away, two of those as my daughter and I traveling alone after the hubs went back stateside.
We had euros and pounds sent to us from our local bank in advance. Others may advise you to wait and exchange your currency when you arrive, usually because you'll get a lower exchange rate. But the exchange rates from our bank were comparable, and getting the currency by mail before we traveled eliminated the possibility of panhandlers or muggers loitering around the ATMs who target inexperienced travelers like ourselves. If you want to wait to exchange, do it at an airport at a booth that is beyond security. We had an unpleasant experience with a panhandler while exchanging pounds for euros at the Gare du Nord train station in Paris toward the end of our trip. Lesson learned. Oh and BTW their money is fun! Ours is boring!

The most important nugget of info that I was not aware of and that almost cost us our trip was passport status. Both of us have had passports since 9/11; neither of us have had a chance to use them until this trip. I remember feeling very dispirited when mine expired, still in pristine condition, never stamped. But I had it renewed anyway, just in case. Folks, this is a good strategy. You never know when you will need it! My husband's passport had a different renewal date than mine - it wasn't expiring until December 2016, so I didn't give it a second thought since we would be over and back long before then.

Little did I know that expiration date is meaningless. After the second person told me a passport is no good if it is set to expire within six months of your travel date, I got a little nervous and made some calls. Sure enough, it was true: apparently you can leave the USA with a valid passport expiring within six months. It's getting back in that's the problem!

The party line on getting a passport renewed is a six week wait. But of course no one would commit to that. If you're in a jam, like we were, you can pay for expedited service, which shrinks the wait time from weeks to days. Yay, but ouch!

To add more fun to our passport dilemma, before we knew about this expiration wrinkle, we had applied for something called a GOES pass (Global Online Enrollment System) to expedite getting through customs and TSA security lines. This process requires a background check and in-person interview, which of course requires you to bring your passport. So we couldn't send his passport off for renewal until after our GOES interview, unless we wanted to forfeit the hundo we had paid for his GOES application. We didn't.

GOES interviews are held at various locations around the country; usually at major airports. Our local airport is not considered major, so we had a minimum two hour drive to the nearest location. Securing an interview time is a dicey proposition. You will find many of the interview sites booked months in advance. But here's what they don't tell you: people cancel all the time. So don't despair! This just means you have to constantly check the GOES site to see if a date has opened up at a location convenient to you.

Once we learned this little hack, we were able to get an interview in a matter of weeks rather than months, just in time for our trip. However, it meant we would need to rush from the interview to the nearest post office to drop the passport off for its expedited service. We had a two week window between the GOES interview and the departure date. A very kind woman at the local post office who often dealt with panicky travelers like myself said passport turnarounds were running 8 business days, but of course she couldn't guarantee anything.

So we spent the next several days tracking the passport's renewal progress and sweating bullets. I suppose you know the outcome since I'm blogging about our family trip to Europe: yes, it arrived in time, thank goodness! It came on a Friday before we were set to leave on a Tuesday. People, don't do this to yourselves! As soon as your passport is within six months of expiration, get it renewed. It's fairly painless this way, loads cheaper, and you won't lose sleep over it like we did.

As for the GOES, yes, I highly recommend. As I mentioned, it speeds up TSA on the domestic leg as well as customs when you're coming home. One thing it does NOT do, however, is expedite non-TSA security screenings outside of the USA. Remember, security is separate from customs. This was a painful lesson learned, but I'll save that story for the next blog post, in which I'll discuss our first week spent in Germany.

My Cure For A Crazy 2016: Travel! 2

lissajohnston@gmail.comDecember 2, 2016December 2, 20162 Comments

2016 has been a crazy year, hasn't it? I mean, CRAZY. And not in a fun, Girls Night Out harmless hijinks way. More like a Charles Manson crazy. Ugh. I don't think I know anyone who is not looking forward to a fresh start with 2017.

Of course there was the election. I guess the positive spin on that would be, 'thank goodness it's finally over'?? And so many beloved celebrities are no longer with us. Pretty sure Gene Wilder's first name was short for 'genius'.

On a more personal note, it was getting a little scary how many of my neighbors' loved ones passed away this year. There were a half-dozen family losses on my street alone, and my street is a very short street! No gang shootings or terrorist attacks were responsible; just the inevitable awakening from this dream we call life. My sweet mother-in-law passed away this summer after along battle with Parkinson's. And our beloved yellow lab died in January. No disrespect intended lumping the two together - we loved both of them very much and are still thinking of them often.

As life often does, we had some positives to help balance out the gloom. We had two different family occasions that provided the opportunity for our far-flung family to get together in person, which is always such a delight. No, seriously! But the big kahuna, the one thing that happened this year that absolutely keeps 2016 from being a total loss, was The Bucket List trip.

I've had travel on my bucket list for ages. We were able to do some travel within the U.S. while we were raising a family. But I had my sights set a little further afield. Now that we are empty-nesters and some of our financial obligations have been met, we are finally able to do it.

This first major international trip came about sort of out of the blue. It was a simple phone call that did it. My son-in-law is a musician and has traveled all over the world. One day my daughter called and as we were chatting, asked if we wanted to join them on his next trip. He was going to be performing in Germany for a couple of weeks and she thought she would tag along and wondered if we would like to join her. Um, YES!

So for the next couple of blog posts, I'd like to share my experiences as a first-time Baby Boomer-aged international traveler with you. We had some ups and downs, but the ups definitely won!