First Mate's Log I: Travel Tips

New York to Italia (That's Italian for Italy)

Laura and I are back home in New York after our 25 day trip. We went to Italy, Kenya, London, and Paris. It was dense, varied, and wonderful. I intended to publish my travel diaries as the trip unfolded, but I did not. I’m doing it now in digestible installments. I hope you’re enjoying your summer.

Tuesday June 3 - New York City

I slept better than I normally do the night before traveling. Our flight was in the evening, and I’d pre-packed a few essentials the night before. The essentials: my fancy Brunello Cucinelli white linen suit and two additional chic evening looks for warm weather.

I’m increasingly embarrassed about the amount of luggage I require. Packing was easier when I didn’t care how I dressed, but as the husband of a fashion icon—mine is not the only brand I reflect on. While at its core my compulsion to look as good as possible is noble and selfless, I do confess that it does feel a little bit good to look good.

The rest of the packing list: safari clothes (lightweight but full coverage), skincare, meds, vitamins, workout clothes, everyday clothes, footwear options…the suitcase fills up fast. Despite having the full morning and early afternoon to get ready, I somehow found myself in a scramble to make it out the door for our ride to the airport.

I’m very solidly certain that we love each other deeply in ways both big and small and this security and constant source of joy is a good thing in my life.

I’d started the day with black coffee and 200 mg of docusate sodium. I have developed a complex regarding my bowels while traveling. I have come to accept that I simply cannot truly enjoy my adventures unless things are moving freely. Facilitating this has become, aside from remembering my passport, my number one travel priority.

I broke my fast at the Delta lounge. I ate a full meal. Like - not a Neronian feast, but a definite gobbling. My plan was to avoid adding more to the mix while in the air. Multiple active stages of digestion through pressure differentials and inevitable dehydration…no thank you! I sent one bus from Boston to New York, not a caravan of ten different cars.

We boarded and took off at 7:25 pm. Before takeoff, I popped a 0.25 mg Xanax and a 10 mg Cyclobenzaprine. I’m sure this is a combination you have to be careful with but - after all different substances I’ve put into my body over the years to feel different ways, these two at these dosages is pretty okay. Consult with your doctor before following this advice. The benzo plus the muscle relaxer plus my insulin response to my meal knocked me out for at least three quarters of the nearly 9 hour flight.

Important to note: we were in economy. I’ve flown business class before and, given the option, I would choose business over coach BUT - in business class, I feel pressured to enjoy the experience. And the full recline position isn’t that comfortable. Sitting bolt upright in economy with my legs wedged between my backpack and the seat in front of me is, for some reason, utterly hypnotic. My mind decides, “I am not at all interested in this conscious experience, so I will shut down.” I sleep better in economy, but would still choose business. What does that say about me?

Six hours in this position

Wednesday June 4 - Hotel Il Pellicano, Monte Argentario (Tuscany)

I woke up with my neck hurting for some reason but delighted to find there were less than two hours remaining in the flight. I drank my water and black coffee. We landed at FCO which is the code for Leonardo da Vinci International Airport, which feels to me to be named with a sort of proprietary pride: “Yeah, that’s right. THAT Da Vinci - he’s ours. And you’re welcome.” I’m not offended. I’d be proud too! He had a lot of fun ideas. I sang about one of them in Massachusetts All State Choir in 2007. “Leonardo dreams of his flying m-m-m-m-m-m-machine.”

Just before baggage claim there was a man holding an iPad that said “LAURA BROWN.” A man holding an iPad with your wife’s name on it is a nice feeling. It’s nice to be able to surrender captaincy to a cheerful local man, even if you feel bad that he has to wear a suit in the summer heat.

The car ride from Rome to Hotel Il Pellicano was an hour. I slept, I dozed, I nodded off. I didn’t even take in the scenery. I felt my vision for the rest of the day take shape in opposition to what Laura was suggesting. She said, “Let’s just drop our bags, go straight to the restaurant and eat lunch, then lay down and die in our room.” Reader - I didn’t want to do that. So I put my foot down.

It’s important, in travel and in life, to know thyself. The more time I spend as an adult the more I think the game is to take care of yourself as you would a toddler. I have a duty to myself and to my spouse to be in good spirits, and so I have become more adroit at keeping myself in good spirits even through dramatically shifting environments. I know that the toddler in me is crankier when he needs a potty and a bath than he is when he’s hungry.

Now, a brief note on Hotel Il Pellicano. An hour’s drive north of Rome, the hotel is perched like a herd of lounging mountain goats between the Tyrrhenian Sea and Monte Argentario. It does not dominate the land but fits perfectly within it and amplifies the natural beauty of its surroundings. It is a stunning painting that does not need an ornate frame. It feels and looks healthy.

It would be an abomination for me to tromp through the reception area and down to the poolside restaurant with my tamped down hair, rumpled sweaty butt jeans, and stinky pit t-shirt. Laura wears travel much better than I do. She went to the restaurant and I went to the room. I made an espresso, decanted my suitcase, hung my nice suit in the closet, and used a saline enema.

She ought to be bedraggled!

Our time is too fleeting and the setting too beautiful to waste even an arrival day fretting about a traffic jam in my bowels. So I handled it. I know I’m oversharing but I don’t care. I did it and it made my life better, and maybe some day someone reading this will make their life better and think of me as they clench that saline solution up there as long as they can.

Empty and light and free, I showered and put on a Pellicano-appropriate outfit. I wandered down to where Laura was sitting enjoying a glass of wine after finishing her meal. I planned to jump in the ocean but the water was too rough and the ladders had been pulled up so I just looked at it for a while.

Ahhhhhhhh

The first hunger pangs hit but it was only 4 pm. I harnessed the boost of energy my ancestors would have used to hunt and jogged/hiked up the trail behind the hotel. It was steep and satisfying and my legs burned and I tasted hemoglobin and I took pictures of plants and bugs and then went down to dinner.

I really did take pictures of plants and bugs, just like I said!

It felt good to eat a meal I needed. We were tired enough from our travels and exertions that we were able to fall asleep quickly even though it was early afternoon in the city we had left less than 24 hours prior.

Insalata misticanza moments before I drenched it in olive oil and hoovered it

I have always made some attempt to adjust quickly and completely to my destination, but I don’t think I ever did so as successfully as I did this time.

Up next: the fabulous reason we were at Hotel Il Pellicano