Two weeks out from a trip that I’ve been dreaming about for 20 years, I find myself ruminating about my relationship with travel. Specifically, how I’ve become the specific kind of traveler I am today.
Spontaneity while traveling is not my jam.
I blame my proclivity to overly organized travel on a Gutenberg bible. This Gutenberg bible, specifically:
Of the possibly 180 copies ever printed, there are only 49 remaining known original Gutenberg bibles, of which only 21 are complete. I know this because when I was planning a trip to New York City in 2020, I wanted to leverage my time there to see something once-in-a-lifetime big.
I was lucky, unbelievably lucky, to have this chance and that there was no way I would ever be able to go back. The only reason I was heading to NYC was because my best friend E. (who is on this latest trip with me, too) was attending school there and flew me out for a visit. The last major trip I took had been in 1998, to Europe with a school program. I travelled for work, but never just because.
I fell hard into a rabbit hole preparing for this trip, finding my “thing” that would maximize this gift. Once I stumbled on the Morgan Library, I settled into an extensive reading tour of the Gilded Age, and the politics of robber baron wealth and art collecting. I learned way more about Gutenberg bibles than is reasonable for a layperson. By the time I landed in NYC, I felt like I’d been living in the city’s past as a tourist for months.
The moment I saw stood in front of the Gutenberg, something clicked. I was riveted. Transfixed. Utterly overwhelmed by the singular experience of being within a hair’s breathe of a turn of history. I rode the high of visting E. in her element, of tasting history and feel located (present, feet planted) in the world.
I was back in NYC two years later, this time on a work trip, and I crammed as much joy into my spare moments as I could. I researched The Met and it’s collection extensively. Months of reading about artists, movements, the history of the museum… I think you’re seeing a trend. And a lesson: one shouldn’t take for granted that good things only happen once.
2024 saw me in Paris, again with E.. Preparing for that trip involved reading everything I could get my hands on about French history. I obsessed over cramming my agenda as full as I possibly could. I researched anything I thought might save us time. I spent about 10 hours on one weekend finding all the relevant addresses for important people and events in the French Revolution and made my own walking tour using Google My Maps and layers. And, as my About section references, I spent weeks researching Nazi-looted art during the occupation and created a 100 line spreadsheet of all the works you can see on display in The Louvre. That trip was pure magic. It deepened my friendship and firmly entrenched a mania for obsessed travel planning.
I worry to an absurd degree that I will miss something if I don’t plan, thoroughly and well. I can’t shake this feeling that the next trip is going to be my last trip, and I have to squeeze every opportunity I can out of this blessing I’ve been given.
I enjoy planning, too, though. It feeds some deep, weird part of my soul. I sometimes think I missed out not doing a PhD, so this lets me dip my toes into academia for free and without stress.
So, onward to the Netherlands, briefly, and then two weeks in Poland. I hope this blog helps someone down the road in planning their dream trip, and makes my friends and family smile.
And to E., who is coming on this epic journey with me and absolutely is a spontaneous person who doesn’t love an obsessive plan… everything is better with you around. Thanks for tolerating me.