I'm sitting here this morning, and it's finally starting to sink in for me. We're going to Russia: land formerly behind the iron curtain, our former cold war adversary, the land of caviar and vodka, and diplomats in woolly black hats, and people who jump in the icy Volga for fun. This is an adventure! These wintry stalwarts are my kind of folks! This is my kind of trip! And I'm kinda freaked out.
Jeri & I first thought of our plan to travel to Moscow a year and a half ago when we first learned that a couple we were good friends with from college had been assigned to diplomatic service in Moscow. We'd first met Bill & Suzie in married-student housing when we were finishing our BAs. We hit it off early on; it's rare to find another couple who you both get along well with; they are pretty super people! So when Bill & Suzie finished their degrees & left for diplomatic service, we were very sad to see them go.
Fast forward about ten years to when Jeri & I were planning our next vacation - I say next, but I should say second. We had just taken our first vacation, 13 years after getting married. We hadn't even vacationed anywhere for our honeymoon so many years before. We had talked with our travel agent about this second vacation: a trip to France, a cozy villa in Provence - it would be our first overseas trip.
A few months later, on the way home from an evening French course, we discussed the day (and how disappointingly slow the course was moving). We both remarked on the most recent email from Suzie, explaining that this time they were being stationed in Moscow.
We'd talked many times about going to visit them overseas in the different places they'd been, but circumstances hadn't lined up for us. We smiled widely thinking of the architecture, the history, seeing our old friends - and then almost jokingly I said, "Can you imagine - standing in Red Square in January? It's the ultimate Russian experience!"
We both briefly laughed, but then became quiet comprehending the reality, the possibility that two people who were trying hard to be better vacationers and who genuinely love winter could actually do this thing. We turned to each other and said, "we could do this... let's do it!" That night, France was postponed and an email went off to our friends expressing our intent, as odd as it might sound to those of you who dislike winter.
And so here I am, a couple days before we go, realizing what we're about to do. The crux of the matter for me is... I'm not a good traveler. I don't care for flying; it's not the 30,000 feet above the Atlantic part, it's the whole experience that American air travel has devolved into. It's not even marginally better than stepping on a greyhound bus; the elegance and comfort of air travel is gone. And then there's my own neuroses.
As much as I long for the cultural experiences of travel, I'm kind of a home-body, I have a diabetic cat (a very close buddy) that needs to get a shot everyday, and I'm a calculated planner. I'm used to walking into situations prepared for multiple outcomes, ahead of the game, etc. I'll be getting off the plane into a culture who's alphabet I can't read (I haven't taken the ample time I had before the trip to learn it), let alone understand their beautiful language.
All that said, I'm a resourceful guy, and comfortable with some pretty decent levels of stress, risk, etc. But this travel thing... I so wish it was otherwise... but it's not my thing. I'm not good at it. I'm going to depend on Jeri (expert traveler) and the advice of Bill & Suzie to make this an experience I'll look back on fondly. Along with the careful application of alcohol.
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