I’ve yet to try travel writing—guidebooks, travel essays, insightful treatise on wonderful places, or handy hints about staying out of trouble in exotic destinations—but I do write when I travel.
Next week I’ll be on a plane to Argentina. I plan to dance Tango, eat steak, visit the port of La Boca, check out a few museums in Buenos Aires, drink lots of wine, and visit the famous falls in Iguazu. I’ve been to BA before, but this will be my first trip to one of the natural wonders of Latin America. I’m looking forward to a new, different, and peaceful experience during my trip. I will write. I always write when I travel. The change of scenery inspires me. The phone rarely rings. The pace of a vacation allows for more relaxed time. And I’ve become expert at finding excellent places to write.
In Seville it was in the garden around the pool at the hotel. I sat under the trees, in the shade, off to the side, where I was protected from the sunlight gleaming on the surface of the pool, and where the buzz of voices in different languages was a distant hum.
In Berlin, there is a particular café that was perfect! I was there for a couple of weeks on that visit and by the end the folks at the counter knew me. I’d go there in the late morning, and sit with locals enjoying a quiet summer day. I’d be gone before the lunch rush, but stay there long enough to put in a couple of hours of solid work.
It doesn’t hurt that many of the places where I’ve traveled add a cookie or a chocolate to your plate when you order tea or coffee. That tends to invite the feeling of belonging.
In the Netherlands, where I often stay with friends, there’s a rooftop deck that haunts my NYC daydreams and a comfy living room adjacent to—but not inside—the buzz of busy people.
Maybe I should try to write an essay about writing when you travel? What do you think? The idea popped into my head as I sit in NYC at my desk consumed with travel daydreams.