The Joy Is in the Journey
People often ask me “Why would you drive to Alaska?” My generic response to that is “Why would you NOT?” Growing up in Detroit, my dad worked designing cars for General Motors for over 40 years. Every summer we would take a family vacation, and my parents, my sister and I would pile into the car and head out to somewhere on trips that would generally last around 2 weeks, sometimes slightly longer. My mother always made a point to pack activities for me to do in the car – games, books, etc. – but my favorite thing to do in the car was look out the window and watch the landscape pass by; to watch the Midwest turn into the Great Plains turn into the rolling hills of South Dakota preluding the Rocky Mountains. I had a book about the 50 states and as we would pass through each one, I would use a pencil to shade in the states we traveled through. By the time I was 15, I had been to about 40 states. From the time I was very young, I had a extremely keen sense of how big and diverse this world we share is. My mother always called me her “Gypsy” because I was always ready to pack my bag and go pretty much anywhere.
As I got older, having seen more of the United States than most, my curiosity started to grow on a more global level. I did not care about going to college like my friends; I just wanted to save my money and travel wherever I possibly could. Fresh out of high school, my dream was Europe. I went to England and loved it.
Several years later, I was married to a man from Montreal whose family lives in Rome. We took many trips to Italy and to multiple other European countries over the years including Spain, France, Ireland, Great Britain, Monaco, and Switzerland, to name a few.
In the fall of 2015, I did a study abroad program in Florence, Italy for 3 months. I lived there not as a tourist, but as a resident, which gave me further insight into a culture completely foreign to the one we know here. This experience was a gift; one I will forever be grateful for. My fellow students, professors and I struggled daily with language and cultural barriers, not to mention homesickness, but day by day it got easier and Firenze felt more and more like home.
By the time we got back to San Diego, it was culture shock all over again. Re-acclimating to life in the US was heartbreaking. The daily walks along the Arno were no more; the panini shop by my school was gone; the thrill of communicating with the people at the market in my broken Italian was lost; the sound of Vespas zipping down the narrow street 6 floors beneath my apartment was replaced by silence; no more street musicians with their accordions; no more gelato; no more apartment manager leaving me flowers and wine and peaches every week outside my door.
My point is that this planet is so big, so diverse and if you put your fear and your anxieties aside, and really put yourself out there, there are gifts you will be given that go far beyond anything physical you could ever possibly possess.
For example, the first major trip I took following my return from Italy was to Tokyo. I was lying in bed one morning and was curious about how much it would cost to fly into Narita. The price was about a third of what I had expected, so I booked it. I went by myself to Japan for a week. Was I scared? YES. It was like going to another planet. NO ONE speaks English there. Before catching a cab, I had to google where I wanted to go and show the cab driver the Japanese translation on my phone. Eating at a restaurant, pictures came in handy. Also, I had a device called SkyRoam that gave me wifi access so I could use Google maps on my phone wherever I went, which prevented me from being lost. I was simultaneously petrified and thrilled the whole time I was there, and it was an experience that took me way outside of my comfort zone. Coming home, and months later, I would never trade that experience for the world.
So back to the original question: Why Alaska? A couple of months after I came back from Japan, I sat down before bed and started to make a bucket list. I had the realization that if I could go on a solo trip to Japan, I could literally go anywhere. The list was exactly this:
Kathmandu/Bhutan
Thailand – Phuket/Bankok/etc.
Trans-Siberian Railroad
Cairo/Giza/Pyramids
Alaska … 😊
And then I stopped. Of all the places I could fly to, maybe actually driving someplace that far would be even more of an adventure. Since I had already planned on having my eldest niece, Vanessa, come out to California to celebrate her high school graduation and because I was already wanting to take her on a road trip, it dawned on me that we could drive to Alaska. I rolled the idea around in my head, thinking we could rent a car then fly back to San Diego. However, you cannot rent a car in the US and take it into Canada, so that posed a problem.
After some thought, I decided why not take my car? It’s a Porsche Macan. This is a journey that automobile was born for! So why not put those Michelin tires to the test?
Even more than that, taking my niece on a 9000 mile road trip inside the Arctic Circle is pretty much the best gift I could think to give her. Exposing one's self to the world around you that is well beyond your backyard, in my opinion, is the most important thing you can do for your soul; nothing is more real than that, no matter how rich or poor you are.
Subsequently, experiencing culture has nothing to do with beaches, five-star hotels or fancy restaurants (although I love that stuff, too!). Culture has to do with real people and local food; it has to do with traditions and history; it has to do with nature, climate and wildlife, and certainly has everything to do with art, which pertains to all of those things put together.
Needless to say, there will be many “holy shit” moments along the way. Those moments suck when they come up but I am going out of my way to be prepared for them, knowing they will be the ones we will remember the most! Our departure date is about a month and a half away. Having said that … I’d better start packing.