do it scared – Workplace Navigator

I just got back from an eight city, seven-week escapade to Southern Europe. I’m moderately fluent in Spanish but besides that and a structured tour in Rome, I was on my own with my carry-on bag, backpack and my single pair of sneakers. The genesis of the trip was wanting to be in Rome on Christmas. Once I started booking things, it ended up that I was in Athens for Christmas and on a “Road Scholar” tour of Rome the week before. After talking to my world traveling friend Janine, I decided that Lisbon was the best place to start my trip as I recovered from jet lag. So, there it started, Lisbon, Rome, Athens and then on to Venice, Florence, Seville, Tenerife and finally Madrid. My route was set. Leading up to my departure, I started getting pangs in my stomach and started to wonder if I had an appendicitis or a burst gall bladder. I started to get nervous that I would land in Lisbon and then get rushed to a hospital. It was all for naught. I think it was just like getting nervous before a speech or running a marathon; it was all in my head. I decided it was psychosomatic and pushed through anyway. I’m so glad I did.

Here are the ways I did it scared:

Carry on only. I had to pack light. I had a trip a few weeks before to Seattle after my mother passed away and it was a test trip for packing extremely light. One pair (yes ONE) of shoes, three pairs of pants, one rain jacket, one puffy jacket with hood and 6 long sleeve shirts, 1 t-shirt and 10 pairs of underwear. I had booked apartments with washers except for the hotel in Rome. I purchased a carry-on suitcase that is both the lightest and fits in all European airlines and had two sturdy wheels (no spinners) so that I could drag it for miles on cobblestone streets. I always purchased early boarding so that I wouldn’t have issues with getting my bag on board. I have heard enough nightmare stories of lost luggage that I wanted to make sure I had what I needed once I got my feet on the ground. I could easily pick up my bag and put it in the overhead bin and my backpack was a lower profile so it could easily fit in under the seat in front of me. One snafu to carry on is that many of the airports I traveled to had a bus to the airplane which meant maneuvering the bags on the bus and up a set of stairs to the plane. All of this gave the assurance that I wouldn’t be stuck without my luggage.

Embrace the unknown. Each time I was going from one city to the next city I almost always ran into a cab or public transit dropping me off some half mile from my destination due to pedestrian only streets. I had not factored this in the first time it happened in Lisbon. By the time I got to Athens, I would set up the directions to the apartment by getting the walking directions from the airport in my map app. That way, when the cab dropped me off, I would start following the directions of my phone/watch. There were still snafus like the closed park in Venice that I had to circumnavigate and the sheer confusion of massive amounts of shoppers in Athens. I was always my most vulnerable when I had my luggage with me and just finding a space off to the side of a major thoroughfare full of people to get my bearings was intimidating. There is also the fact that elevators start on level 0. I went up and down elevators several times looking for what I though was the second floor on floor 1 instead of going all the way to floor 2. I really had to embrace just being lost and to be OK with circling the block several times to figure out where I was.

Figure out shopping. My first order of business once I found my apartment was figuring out what I was going to do for breakfast for the next day. I scoped out the coffee situation whether it was a Moka, electric kettle, Nespresso or Dolce Gusto machine. Off to the nearest Carrefour or Conad market I go with empty foldable backpack in hand. Most markets in Europe have self-checkout which is always interesting in a foreign language although sometimes you can select the British flag to get English. I never found oatmeal (Avena) until I arrived in Spain. In Portugal, Italy and Greece, I ended up buying Muesli (like granola) and milk. Fruits and vegetables almost always have a self-service station to weigh it. You can imagine how intimidating finding a fruit or vegetable is on a foreign scale system. I’m not sure I was accurate but I survived getting a scanner code and was able to check out. In addition, you scan or pay for each bag you use. I know some states have adopted this but taking along an empty backpack was handy. Every market payment system in Europe had a tap option so I didn’t have to figure out using what little Euros I had. Each time it was a new adventure. When I try to eat mostly vegetarian google translates by taking a picture of a product and was invaluable.

Travel on foot if possible. I ended up walking at least 5 miles a day during my travels. I never wore a headset. I try to be absolutely present and pay attention to the sounds and sights. It’s similar to walking a trail, I have to pay attention to each foot fall especially on narrow cobblestone streets. If something was wet, I’d walk slower. In retrospect the only place I saw folks with walkers and wheelchairs was in Madrid. The rest of the cities I traveled to had stairs, cobblestones and rarely an elevator. Complete handrails (from top to bottom of a set of stairs) was a rarity. When I solo travel, I really slow down and carefully move forward. I also got to experience each city from the graffiti to the smells of roasting chestnuts to the sound of church bells. Each time I was in a precarious situation I would think about how it could be worse, like climbing up to the Acropolis, well at least it’s not raining and it’s only 60 degrees. Amongst the throngs the week before Christmas at the base of the Spanish Steps in Rome, I thought, at least I’m not shopping or trying to get a cab. Being on foot makes me be present and appreciate each moment.

Each time I plan my travel adventures; it feels like some long-lost dream until it’s behind me. I put a plan together and hope it all works out and figure if it doesn’t, I’ll just stay home. Fear is a fickle thing cropping up at inopportune times and I try to remember to bring curiosity and optimism. Mostly, I’m just grateful to have the opportunity to work remotely, see the world and do it scared.

This has been my mantra for the last two months. I struck out alone for the west coast to attend my mother’s 90th birthday in my RV, Abeona (goddess of the outward journey), in May of 2024. I’m not mechanically inclined, I am skittish of heights, not a fan of enclosed places and really like a good night’s sleep. This journey would have been a lot easier by just booking a plane ticket instead of driving some 4,000 miles to celebrate my mother’s landmark birthday. But instead, I have embraced doing it scared.

Abeona arrived on the Pacific Ocean after a cross country trip

Here are the things I faced doing it scared:

Rain in east Texas. As I was headed to Rusk Texas (look it up, it’s in the middle of nowhere) there were all kinds of warnings on my map apps that the roads could be flooded. It was a torrential downpour as I drove on desolate route 84 to my campground and out the next day. I saw whole fields inundated with water, rivers out of their banks but never any water across the road. I figured that the campground would have alerted me that it was underwater (and it wasn’t) but the drive was intimidating because of the unknown.

Big Bend. Big Bend National Park is in the middle of nowhere on the border between Texas and Mexico. I drove over a hundred miles without seeing a gas station from Fort Stockton down route 385 which enters the park from the north entrance. I didn’t see one car as I drove down from the north entrance to the park headquarters. This is rare for a National Park in May but when it’s 112 degrees outside and no cell coverage;it appeared to not be a popular spot in the Spring. When you are driving an RV by yourself and know there isn’t much of a safety net if you break down; you do it scared.

Boquillas Mexico. When I get nervous, my stomach twists in knots. I had a morning planned to cross the border at the edge of Big Bend NP where there is an official entry point into the United States. I knew that it was possible to take a very short row boat ride across the Rio Grande into the little town of Boquillas. I didn’t sleep well in anticipation of crossing the border and back. I was imagining something going wrong. It’s hot, dusty, no cell coverage and my Spanish was rusty. As with most uncertain things, I was looking for things to control. I texted my kids letting them know that I was crossing the border without cell coverage and that I expected to be back to cell coverage in 3 hours. The town itself, my guide and burro ride into town were a step into a whole other reality with this small-town dependent on brave Americans to take a chance on seeing another way of life. I’m glad I did it scared.

White Sands National Park. I’ve been to over 30 national parks. I had been to White Sands as a newlywed with my husband, Orlando, in the mid 80’s. I do not remember the road, about 3 miles into the dunes loop, ending into what was essentially sand dunes for some 10 miles. This mistake, in that I didn’t have all wheel drive on the RV, was something I’m glad I did in retrospect but had I known, I’m sure I would have skipped. Getting my Abeona stuck in the sand and the rattling of the dual tires in the back was unnerving. I turned around as soon as I could but I can tell you to pay more attention to park maps and advisories now.

Tehachapi Pass. This is an infamous road that skirts Los Angeles through a mountain pass. I have been over it several times in a car although I probably wasn’t driving. When driving up from the south there are over 4,500 wind turbines which, immediately alert you to the fact that “there will be wind.” On the day I came up the pass from the south there were signs alerting high profile vehicles. My campground was on top of the pass. I went anyway. Gulp. It felt like hurricane force winds, I was clenching the steering wheel and maintained a 45 mile an hour pace. I was fortunate that there weren’t may trucks and gratified to see other folks with trailers going over the pass (if they can do it, I can do it). After 4 camping days in Tehachapi, I came down the other side of the pass which is longer, steeper and full of curves (it forced me to learn how to use manual gears). I kept thinking to myself, Rick Hanson’s “Are you alright right now?” I was.

Glider Ride. When I was camped in Tehachapi, it was right next to a glider plane airport. After the first two days of watching gliders take off attached to small planes, I decided that, if I don’t do this, I’ll regret it. I had every afternoon free and why not just walk over and get in a glider. I was going to tell my daughter but she was occupied so I just went over and did it. In retrospect, I think that because I was by myself, I couldn’t be talked out of it. Perhaps someone else would have discouraged me. Maybe I thought I had survived the trip thus far, let’s go for broke. I was shocked that all you had to do was pay and that I didn’t sign 5 pages of waivers. Perhaps it was because I didn’t sign waivers, I decided it was safe. My pilot Cam was great. They wheeled the glider into position. There was nothing but manual signals between him and the pilot of the guide plane. The glider itself was airborne before the guide plane which was freaky. Did I mention that I was in the front of the glider with all the controls to fly (but didn’t). When the tow rope releases, we were gliding above the Tehachapi Valley at 6,500 feet. Outside of the wind and the conversation with Cam, it was silence. It’s incredible that this little plane, that is shorter than my RV can glide through the air without any technology and land safely on the ground. I’m glad I did it scared.

I find that, traveling alone as a woman over 50, I get a lot of folks opining on my choice. Mostly it’s from women over 50 saying “I could never do that”, “So you are alone? Driving by yourself?” I’m always flummoxed as to what to respond with. And then? Then there is Lucky Lu (her license plate). I was departing Joshua Tree and at a stop light in Yucca Valley when I hear a car honking at me. I turn to the left and see a woman beaming and giving me the thumbs up. I rolled down my window and she said” You have the toy I want! I love it! Are you by yourself?”, I answered yes, and she responds “YOU GO GIRL!” That moment? That was worth it all. There is also my co-pilot, my inspiration, my dearly departed father had wanderlust in spades and he would drive 4,000 miles just to see a view. Daddy is always riding shotgun.