Travel Related Pet Peeve

Okay, it's not technically a pet peeve ... maybe just an observation. Have you ever saved all your money and traveled someplace exotic only to arrive and take a few photos, ooooh and ahhh, and chit-chat with the natives and have this conversation:

Native: Where are you from?
Me: California
Native: Is that near Las Vegas?
Me: Yeah, I guess.
Native: Las Vegas is my dream.
Me: Really?
Native: Have you been?
Me: Yeah.
Native: and the Grand Canyon?
Me: Uh, when I was little.
Native: Those are the two places I want to go.

I have had that conversation in some of the most amazing locations on earth. From the top of the Eiffel Tower to a junk in Hong Kong Harbor. Each time, it strikes me as funny that I don't think anything of the amazing stuff in my own backyard, but put a passport, a plane ticket, and my little guidebook in my hand, and I will travel anywhere. My motto? Never turn down a free vacation. (Maybe that is why I haven't been anywhere cool lately. No offers.) I would love to see the Taj Mahal. But I know, I would arrive, find someone trustworthy-looking to snap a few pictures, get into a conversation, and end up having roughly the above exchange.

Why is it that we love to travel to exotic locales and yet stuff in our own backyard is no big deal, common, ordinary, easy?

I have been on some amazing trips. I have seen things that people dream about. I have been very blessed. Part of the reason is ... I was born to parents who loved to travel. They were both teachers so our vacations were more like field trips. Literally. I'm not kidding. We had reading assignments and tests and everything. Like, before we embarked on a trip to Europe, camping out throughout 15 different countries, we spent eight months working extra jobs. During that time we picked a different country every month to study (big ones got a whole month and smaller ones a week.) We would go to the library and check out books, cook food from the place, watch videos, learn a few phrases, learn about the currency and exchange rate, study the history, geography, and culture. When we finally got there, we were experts. I will never forget my little ten year-old brother explaining to the tour guides at Stonehenge the various theories on who could have built it. He stared at him with a stunned look on his face. Looking back, I bet most ten year-old little boys just saw it as a place they wanted to climb and knock down a pillar or two. My brother John was an expert on Stonehenge. We all were. When we saw it, we didn't just think: uhh, nice pile of rocks, now can we go to McDonald's? We understood the historical significance. Heck, we could have given the tour.

We went to the most amazing places. Each night at the campsites we would talk with all the Europeans. Frequently, we were the only Americans camping out. By the way, the Europeans love to camp. There are camp grounds all over Europe and they are very well maintained and clean. My dad would engage in conversation and find all the hidden gems. We always said, no matter where in the world my dad was, he could tell you where the best (and I emphasize best) bakery was, where a laundromat was, and where the local church was ... just give him fifteen minutes. Obviously my dad was passionate about his pastry, cleanliness, and his religion. (Wow, that could have been his eulogy - except family and religion would have been first. Just don't ask him to choose between his kid and a good apple strudel - if you know what I mean.)

We didn't just go to Normandy, he found out from the locals where the old German bunkers were and we climbed through the deserted six foot walled concrete monstrosities. They were out on this farm in the middle of nowhere. They were amazing. And untouched. And never mentioned in a travel book. There were no signs. But later that day when we stood on the beaches and saw the graves and graves and graves and graves and graves ... we KNEW why. We understood why so many had to die in order to infiltrate those bunkers.

That is just one example. We went on many trips. Few vacations. We never stayed in a nice hotel. We never lounged on a beach. We never hung out in a spa or ordered room service. But boy-oh-boy, we experienced things that have never been printed in a book. Our worst hotel ever? I don't know. It is a cross between "$12, no questions" and the place we were charged by the hour. There were 7 of us, mind you. And not every place was a dump. Sometimes we stayed in nice places - if it was the off season. We could set up a tent in the dark ... fast. We ate picnics. But my dad also knew when to splurge, I mean we did have lobster in Maine. He would spend money on things that were important.

Because of this, I had to teach my husband how to travel. He was raised in the 5-star, room-service, play-golf, go-to-the spa type of family. We did that once. It drove me crazy. My mom always said: if you want to sleep in a comfortable bed, stay home. Throughout the years we have compromised. I don't drag my daughters to places where the CSI team is in the next room (literally - one place we stayed still had police tape on it) and Ryan appreciates going to fascinating places. We come home from vacations exhausted.

So ... my point? Gosh, it takes me forever to make a point, doesn't it? We moved to Las Vegas almost six months ago and we aren't going anywhere until we see it all. This Spring Break we are having a Staycation. We will explore the natural wonders, the man-made wonders, the history, the culture, the gems, the local-only fun and the touristy fun. We will do it all. That way, when I do get around to going to the Taj Mahal, the conversation will go like this:

Native: Where are you from?
Me: Las Vegas
Native: Las Vegas is my dream.
Me: It is really amazing. I love it.
Native: and the Grand Canyon?
Me: One of the most beautiful and awe-inspiring places on Earth.
Native: Those are the two places I want to go.
Me: They are worth it. They are truly as amazing as this place.