Aug

60-Something Digital Nomad Tells All!

by Joyce McGreevy on August 12, 2020

Joyce McGreevy, a blogger for OIC Moments, shares her lessons learned from travel as a 60-something digital nomad. (Image © by Joyce McGreevy)

On a plane, a train, a bus? Who knows? But I was giddy with wanderlust.
© Joyce McGreevy

10 Lessons I Learned from Travel

A tabloid headline floats over a deer-in-the-headlights photo of a 60-something woman. She’s been caught in the act of . . . traveling solo! As a digital nomad! This is what I picture whenever people express shock that I once sold my condo, donated most of my possessions, packed a small suitcase, and began traveling full time—while continuing to work.

Becoming a digital nomad is not unusual. But doing so as an older woman tends to flabbergast those around you.

People reacting to women’s life choices with shock is nothing new, of course. But there comes a time when anything a woman does that’s slightly outside of the norm prompts the response, “At your age?” A survey of female friends reveals that this happens from ages 2 to 102. Before and after those troublesome years, you’re free to do what you like without judgment.

Meanwhile, Your Honors, I plead guilty as charged. For 5 years, I was (gasp!) an older digital nomad. Shameless travel hussy that I am, I’d have continued this lifestyle for another 5 years but for the pandemic.

Have I learned my lesson? Oh, yes. There are at least 10 packable lessons I’ve learned from travel.

A sun dial with a clock face and writing instruments in Ireland reminds a digital nomad of lessons learned from travel. (Image © by Joyce McGreevy

Travel lesson learned in Ireland: Don’t let the clock run out on your life goals.
© Joyce McGreevy

1. If you’ve got a goal, get going.

I’m so glad I didn’t dither and miss my chance to travel. That I didn’t let age or modest finances deter me. That I didn’t think, “This must work out perfectly or it will be a disaster.”

Instead, I saw it as one more chapter in a lifelong series of learning adventures.

Travel lesson learned: Not every goal is about travel, but every goal is a journey. Don’t get stuck in park.

A list of subway stations in Bulgaria reminds a digital nomad of lessons learned from travel. (Image © by Joyce McGreevy)

Travel lesson learned in Bulgaria: To hone your navigational skills, keep challenging them.
© Joyce McGreevy

2. When you travel, you’re visiting someone’s home.

If you went to a neighbor’s house for the first time, you wouldn’t

elbow past them to take selfies in front of their artwork.
hunker down in their doorway to eat fast food.
make unfiltered comments on anything you see. “What a tiny fridge! Why’s this house so o-o-old?”
carve your initials on their walls and trees.

Yet residents of Venice, Barcelona, and other great cities have decried such behavior among a small but exasperating segment of travelers.

Travel lesson learned: Be curious, not injurious. Enjoy, don’t annoy.

3. Trying to see everything is the best way to miss most of it.

You would think that someone who’d spent several years traveling would have covered most of the globe by now.

Nope.

If there’s such a thing as Slow Travel, then I’m its biggest fan. Wherever I went, I lingered. I wanted a close-up view of everyday life, not a blurred view of every attraction. Even on short layovers I learned that slowing down is the key to gaining insight into a place.

Travel lesson learned: Take a trip, not an ego trip.

International signposts in Norway remind a digital nomad of lessons learned from travel. (Image © by Joyce McGreevy)

Travel lesson learned in Norway: Don’t engage in competitive travel.
So what if others have traveled farther, faster, or “before it was trendy”?
© Joyce McGreevy

4. Your feet are to travel what great novels are to reading.

“I have the European urge to use my feet when a drive can be dispensed with,” wrote Nabokov. Walking is a timeless activity, one that leads to in-the-moment observations and personal connections with history. When you explore a city on foot, it’s like losing yourself in a great work of literature as opposed to scanning tweets—it’s immersive, asks more of you, and richly rewards you, too.

Travel lesson learned: One mindful walk is better than a dozen rushed tours.

An overhead view of a river walk in Croatia reminds a digital nomad of lessons learned from travel. (Image © by Joyce McGreevy)

Travel lesson learned in Croatia: Discover new perspectives.
© Joyce McGreevy

5. No matter how light you pack, you won’t need half of it.

This is true whether you’re traveling to one country or 10, for 10 days or 10 weeks, and to formal or informal settings. If you need things you didn’t pack, you can buy them there. But if you pack things you don’t need, you still must carry them everywhere.

Travel lesson learned: The less you lug, the more carefree you’ll be.

A coatrack, a suitcase, and a travel mascot in Greece remind a digital nomad of lessons learned from travel. (Image © by Joyce McGreevy)

Travel lesson learned in Greece: A hook to hang my apron is all I need to feel at home.
© Joyce McGreevy

Travel lesson learned: The less you lug, the more carefree you’ll be.

6. We should talk to strangers more often.

No one’s asking you to follow someone down a dark alley, or to re-enact “My Dinner with André” on a six-hour train ride. But travel is a golden opportunity to find out what the rest of the world is thinking.

Don’t let that nifty travel app blind you to the people around you. Even language barriers can be overcome by empathy, smiles, laughter, and a bit of awkward miming.

Travel lesson learned: When we acknowledge each other, we extend the reach of community across cultures.

A baker making lavash bread in Turkey reminds a digital nomad aof lessons learned from travel. (Image © by Joyce McGreevy)

Travel lesson learned in Turkey: Savor world flavors—learn to cook cross-culturally.
© Joyce McGreevy

7. Don’t just look at the world, taste it.

My mother was an avid traveler and cook whose everyday repertoire celebrated global diversity. This is why my own journeys have always included culinary field trips. Exploring farmers markets, finding affordable cooking lessons, and swapping kitchen tales with locals is a great way to connect across cultures.

Travel lesson learned: “When life gives you lemons,” find out how local cooks use them!

8. Solo travel is glorious. So is the right traveling companion.

I love traveling solo. It nudges me out of my comfort zone and lets me be spontaneous.

I even learned to love dining solo without hiding behind a book. Often, this led to conversations with locals, who generously shared insights into their country’s history, lesser known landmarks, and of course, culinary culture.

Traveling with others can be Paradiso. Or Inferno. It’s all about attitude. I’ve witnessed travelers who waste time arguing. “I don’t know which museum! I thought you’d know which museum!” Who respond to any glitch by fuming, “This would never happen in [Anytown], USA!”

But sometimes you get to travel with people who embrace adventure, immerse themselves in a culture, and try new things. They find the upside of setbacks and help you notice things you would otherwise have missed.

Travel lesson learned: Travel in good company—your own or others.

Two loving travel companions in Ireland remind a digital nomad of lessons learned from travel. (Image © by Joyce McGreevy)

Enjoying another traveler’s perspective is like seeing two worlds at once.
© Joyce McGreevy

9. The best souvenirs aren’t things.

Traveling with one small suitcase meant I couldn’t get weighed down with “stuff.” But there’s no limit on the customs one can carry home.

Like Italy’s passeggiata—an elegant evening stroll. Or Montrealers’ love of reading in city parks—books, not cellphones. Or the Irish habit of acknowledging passersby with a greeting or at least a nod. Wearing a mask doesn’t diminish the pleasure of these rituals.

Travel lesson learned: Bring back new ideas, not knickknacks.

10. Fresh starts are a type of travel.

When I returned to the States, I moved to Bend, Oregon. The only people I knew locally were my sisters and their families. And because of Covid, only some of us could get together without risk.

But because of travel, I don’t feel lonely. Because of travel, I know there’s always a way to navigate and connect.

I’ve met fellow Oregonians by joining a volunteer group that meets online. I hike along the Deschutes River. I download library books that explore the history and beauty of the state.

A museum with a rainbow panorama walkway in Denmark reminds a digital nomad of lessons learned from travel. (Image © by Joyce McGreevy)

Travel lesson learned in Denmark: True progress means raising each other up.
© Joyce McGreevy

Having been a working nomad, I’m used to being productive from anywhere. I’m also used to getting on Zoom to catch up with the people I’ve met around the world. We share our joys, our worries, our national issues. You may consider these visits “virtual,” but the friendships are real.

Maybe that’s why I’ve adopted an explorer’s approach to our world’s surreal new circumstances. Oh, I see: Because of lessons learned from travel, I feel more at home on this vulnerable planet and within my vulnerable self.

Comment on the post below, or inspire insight with your own OIC Moment here.

Joyce McGreevy 9 Comments

Adventure Travel/Life Lessons/Worldwide Sites

Feb

A Walk on the Winter Side

by Joyce McGreevy on February 4, 2020

An intrepid traveler on a beach in East Sussex, England is proof of the power of wanderlust over the forces of winter’s chill. (Image © Joyce McGreevy)

Winter at an English beach is definitely “chill.”
© Joyce McGreevy

Winter Wanderlust in East Sussex

Rows of wooden beach huts are locked up tight, their colors vibrant as summer memories. Gray waves lunge at the Seven Sisters, chalk cliffs along England’s South Coast. January winds drive sand in fitful circles around deserted picnic tables.

Traditional English beach huts on a deserts beach in East Sussex reminds a traveler with winter wanderlust that summer will return. (Image © Joyce McGreevy)

Before beach huts were introduced in the 1900s, changing for a swim was done in a
bathing machine that, for modesty’s sake, was towed out to sea.
© Joyce McGreevy

But here we come in our oilskin jackets, woolen scarves flapping gamely in the wind. We are the winter travelers, hardy wanderers who love to travel out of season. This year, winter wanderlust leads some of us to East Sussex.

The Seven Sisters chalk clods on England’s South Coast inspire wanderlust, attracting tourists even in winter. (Image © Joyce McGreevy)

Do the Seven Sisters cliffs look familiar? They stood in for the White Cliffs of Dover
in the movie “Atonement.”
© Joyce McGreevy

Call us daft if you want, but we don’t mind. After all, we can’t hear you through our sensible “tea-cozy” hats.

Overwintering, underpaying

There are distinct advantages to traveling in winter. Affordability for one. Some of my favorite sojourns have coincided with cold, rainy seasons. Despite the Einstein Effect on my hair, it never dampens my spirits. With steep discounts on accommodation, I happily pack an umbrella.

Rainy English weather and a lush green garden in East Sussex remind a traveler that winter travel has its rewards. (Image © Joyce McGreevy)

England’s rainy days yield green winter dividends.
© Joyce McGreevy

My holiday base is a red brick bungalow with a sweeping view of the English Channel. To the east is Seaford, whose quiet, polite atmosphere belies a tumultuous history. Centuries ago, when it wasn’t being attacked by French pirates, the town had a reputation for looting—and causing—shipwrecks. It also tended to burn down with alarming frequency.

A churchyard in Seaford, East Sussex evokes the contrast between the tranquility of the setting and the turbulence of the local history. (Image © Joyce McGreevy)

Things eventually quieted down in once rowdy Seaford.
© Joyce McGreevy

Fortunately for crown and country, not to mention life and limb, the River Ouse silted up. This rendered Seaford worthless as a port but great at producing remarkable people.

The doctor who first diagnosed dyslexia lived in Seaford. So did three of England’s prime ministers, a NASA astronaut, a Rock and Roll Hall of Famer, the logo designer for Johnny Walker Black, and a Who’s Who of famous actors.

Exploring East Sussex

You don’t need a car to meander along England’s South Coast. Even small towns boast frequent daily rail services.

A train in East Sussex, one of many, makes it easy to follow your winter wanderlust and travel between the historic towns of England’s South Coast. (Image © Joyce McGreevy)

The train to Newhaven will drop off passengers for the ferry to Dieppe, France.
© Joyce McGreevy

Train stations here have been hard at work since 1840, when the railway connected England’s capital to the south coast. Soon, a steady supply of Londoners streamed—or rather, steamed into seaside resorts.

Follow your winter wanderlust to the train station in Rye, East Sussex, which dates back to the mid-1800s when the British railway connected London to England’s South Coast. (Image © Joyce McGreevy)

When railways arrived in Sussex, they provided an alternative to waterways.
© Joyce McGreevy

Brighton is the most famous, a bohemian boomtown that attracted Regency high society and working-class day-trippers. It’s also set the scene for a long list of movies.

Brighton Palace Pier in winter has an eerie magic that inspires wanderlust to travel to East Sussex, England in the off season. (Image © Joyce McGreevy)

At historic Brighton Palace Pier, a winter storm comes out to play.
© Joyce McGreevy

Farther east, Hastings may look familiar to fans of the British television series “Foyle’s War,” a detective drama set during World War II.

Here in 1066, William the Conqueror won the Battle of Hastings, radically altering Britain’s history by wresting it from Scandinavian influence. As William’s Norman courtiers smuggled new French words into the Anglo-Saxon language, the resulting mix became modern English.

Hastings, East Sussex, a key location for the British television series “Foyle’s War” and England’s steepest funicular railway are inspire travelers with wanderlust, even in winter.

For a scenic shortcut in 1066 Country, make haste to Hasting’s funicular railway.
Photos by Pixabay and Pxhere

A Pocketful of Rye

Don’t overlook the smaller towns. One of the most captivating is Rye. For centuries, it prospered as a royal port—and a popular haunt of smugglers. Over time, the sea receded by two miles, and Rye became less lively, much to its benefit.

The lyrics of Rudyard Kipling’s “A Smuggler’s Song” on a wall in East Sussex reflect the turbulent history of England’s South Coast. (Image © Joyce McGreevy)

Poet Rudyard Kipling, a man of Sussex, collected local lore.
© Joyce McGreevy

Today, Rye deals chiefly in visitors, who come for the sheer pleasure of wandering its beautifully preserved streets.

Mermaid Street in winter means fewer tourists in the picturesque town of Rye, which inspires a traveler whose wanderlust has led her to visit the historic towns of East Sussex, England. (Image © Joyce McGreevy)

Some buildings in Rye are so old that they were renovated in the 1400s.
© Joyce McGreevy

To experience Rye in January is to discover the best reason for winter travel: no crowds. You can explore the twitterns, scenic alleyways that link the labyrinthine streets, without walking a gauntlet of kidney-crushing elbows. You can linger in idyllic settings without crashing anyone’s photo opp.

In Rye, a twittern, or scenic alleyway offers tranquility to a traveler with wanderlust for a winter holiday in East Sussex, England. (Image © Joyce McGreevy)

The twitterns of Rye set an Anglophile traveler’s heart a-twitter.
© Joyce McGreevy

Rye is so small you can’t get lost, except in reverie. Stroll the cobbles of Mermaid Street and you may feel as if you’ve stepped into a literary novel.

You have.

In the 1920s, author and former mayor E.F. Benson used a barely disguised version of Rye as the setting of Mapp and Lucia, his popular series of humorous novels. In brief, it’s an epic battle of brilliant wits and wealthy twits. Two public television adaptations were also filmed in Rye.

Even before Benson’s tenancy, Lamb House was home to another famous novelist, Henry James. In 1898, the author was on a quest for a “charming, cheap old” refuge when he spotted a painting of the place and fell in love with it. During 19 years there he wrote many of his greatest novels.

A view of the rooftops of Rye, a picturesque English town in East Sussex, England, is ample reward for a traveler with wanderlust for a winter vacation in England. (Image © Joyce McGreevy)

“Old, square, red-roofed, well assured of the place it took up in the world, “
wrote Henry James of his home in Rye.
© Joyce McGreevy

Winter Pleasures

Summer in East Sussex buzzes with entertainment, like the world-famous famous Glyndebourne opera festival and Eastbourne’s Magnificent Motor Rally.

A replica of the 1902 halter skelter on a winter’s day evokes wanderlust for summer excursions to the Brighton Palace Pier on England’s South Coast. (Image © Joyce McGreevy)

Since 1902, revelers have raced to the top of the helter skelter
—in summer, that is.
© Joyce McGreevy

But the quieter pleasures of winter have a richness all their own. Brisk walks make a virtue of visiting pubs with open fires and friendly locals. Old bookshops, eccentric museums, and ancient churches become places to linger, for true fascination cannot be rushed.

Oh, I see: The slower pace of winter can deepen one’s sense of place.

A tiny bookshop in Rye, a picturesque town in East Sussex, inspires wanderlust for winter travel to England. (Image © Joyce McGreevy)

Ideal for one or two customers at a time, Rye’s Tiny Book Store accommodates countless fictional characters.
© Joyce McGreevy

And so, I settle in one rainy evening with a cup of tea and a copy of Mapp and Lucia. On the page, it’s summer in Rye, a terribly hot June morning, and the eglantine is in full flower.

Thanks to winter wanderlust, I can picture it all so clearly.

Comment on the post below, or inspire insight with your own OIC Moment here.

Joyce McGreevy 4 Comments

Adventure Travel/Art of Travel/England/Literary World

May

A Whirlwind of Whirling

by Meredith Mullins on May 21, 2019

Two whirling dervishes dancing in Istanbul;s Sufi Sema ceremony. (Image © Meredith Mullins)

The Travel Adventures of an Istanbul Dervish Groupie

I have always been drawn to exotic corners of the world. Travel adventures at the crossroads of cultures. Layers of the past interwoven with the changing rhythms of the present. The magical and mysterious places of trade-route caravans and Scheherazade-like storytelling.

Always on the list was Istanbul. I had been to Turkey many times. I had seen incredible riches, such as the strangely beheaded statues of Nemrut Dagi in the east, the ancient Greco-Roman ruins in seaside villages of the south coast, and the moonscapes of Cappadocia.

But in all my travels, I had yet to see the mystical Sufi Sema ceremony. Visions of whirling dervishes were dancing in my head.

Mosque at dusk in Istanbul, city where the whirling dervishes dance in the Sufi Sema ceremony. (Image © Meredith Mullins)

Let the Journey Begin

I headed to Istanbul, where I knew the dervishes were still performing, sponsored by cultural centers that are dedicated to sharing this 700-year-old ritual with the modern world. My destiny was clear . . . but there were to be challenges.

After a few false starts, my small Turkish internet airline managed to rally a plane. When we finally landed in Istanbul in the dead of night, a kindly van driver said he was our ride.

All was well until our van was stopped as we left the airport, and the driver was taken away by the police. Another kindly van driver took over and explained that “it was just a small problem with the local authorities.”

These are the kind of travel adventures that make you glad you finally arrive safely at your destination.

Then . . . on my very next night, a mysterious stranger brushed past and whispered “Pssst, wanna see some dervishes?”

And so it was meant to be. And for the next ten days, I was in a whirlwind of whirling. I became a dervish groupie.

Cistern of the basilica in Istanbul, city where whirling dervishes dance in the Sufi Sema ceremony. (Image © Meredith Mullins)

Istanbul Promise

Although there are many things to do and see in Istanbul, such as the Blue Mosque and Hagia Sophia, Topkapi Palace, the covered market, the labyrinthian basilica cistern, and the ancient hammams, I was on a dervish mission.

Covered market in Istanbul, city where the whirling dervishes dance in the Sufi Sema ceremony. (Image © Meredith Mullins)

I watched dervishes every night and came to know the Sema ceremony by heart. I fell into my own trance as the dervishes danced. They were mesmerizing and showed me a graceful path to Rumi’s hope that we all learn to “take a step without feet.”

Whirling dervishes dance in the Sufi Sema ceremony in Istanbul. (Image © Meredith Mullins)

The Sufi Philosophy

Konya, in central Turkey, is the center of the dervishes, where the Islamic Mevlevi order was founded in 1312. This particular dimension of Islam followed the spiritual philosophies of the mystical poet and Sufi master Rumi, also called Mevlana (or “our leader”).

At the height of the order, there were more than 100 tekkes (monasteries) across the Ottoman empire (including Greece, Egypt, Saudi Arabia, Iraq, Syria, and Iran).

After World War I, however, the Sufi organizations were declared illegal. But the dervishes whirled on, often in secret. Today, several government sponsored venues are organized for visitors to better understand this historic dance of prayer.

Whirling dervishes in black cloaks arrive to dance in the Sufi Sema ceremony in Istanbul. (Image © Meredith Mullins)

The Dance

The dervishes, also called semazens, arrive in black cloaks. The gesture of removing their cloak to reveal their white tenure with its swirling skirt represents a spiritual rebirth to the truth. They are freeing themselves from the attachments of this world, just as their leader Rumi did with his ascetic life.

One of several whirling dervishes with arms crossed before beginning to dance in the Sufi Sema ceremony in Istanbul. (Image © Meredith Mullins)

They wear a tall tubular camel hair hat, called a sikke. The sikke represents a tombstone for the ego. The dervishes, lose themselves—their ego—in their dance as they meditate, chant, and pray.

While whirling, they hold their right hand toward the sky, showing their readiness to receive God’s love. They hold their left hand toward the earth to pass that gift to those on earth.

One of several whirling dervishes holding the palm of one hand toward the sky and the other hand toward Earth during the dance in the Sufi Sema ceremony in Istanbul. (Image © Meredith Mullins)

They whirl to show the idea of a revolving body. This is part of their faith—the idea that everything revolves—from the planets; to the protons, neutrons, and electrons of atoms; to blood flowing through our bodies; to the human cycle of birth to death.

It is said that the Sema ceremony unites the three fundamental components of human nature: mind, body, and heart. Some people think that the dervishes are in ecstasy when they whirl.

But the music and dramatic turning just give them a feeling of soaring . . . of mystical flight. They are in a meditative trance.

Rumi said, “There are many roads which lead to God. I have chosen the one of dance and music.”

Close-up of the face of one of the whirling dervishes during the dance in the Sufi Sema ceremony in Istanbul. (Image © Meredith Mullins)

An “Oh, I See” Moment in the World of Travel Adventures

No matter what religious beliefs you hold or what spiritual path you might be on, the Sema ceremony of the whirling dervishes is spellbinding.

These moments are the kind of travel adventures that let you see into the souls of the local people and learn from their teachings—the absolute best way to see the world.

Only from the heart can you touch the sky. —Rumi

Close-up of one of the whirling dervishes during the dance in the Sufi Sema ceremony in Istanbul. (Image © Meredith Mullins)

For more information about whirling dervishes and the Sema ceremonies in Istanbul, visit the Galata Mevlevi House Museum and the Hodjapasha Cultural Center site.

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Meredith Mullins 2 Comments

Adventure Travel/Turkey

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