In the Know

No matter where I am, someone is always stopping me to ask for directions. One of my children said this is because I always look as if I know where I’m going.

I was asked for directions at the law school at U of A when I was visiting for the first time. (Of course, I can answer because I always travel with a map.) I was also asked for directions in the Paris Metro and EVERYWHERE on the streets in Moscow. (Draped in all that fur, I must have looked Russian.)

And if I can, I am always happy to assist--even if I have to do so in my broken Russian. But for some reason, my willingness to help disappears when it’s a commercial establishment asking. I believe that if I am providing a service to a business, I should get paid. That includes surveys.

I used to have a lot of fun with this years ago when businesses would called me in Scottsdale.

Business: “Do you have a few minutes to answer some survey questions?”

Me: “Maybe. How much do you pay?”

Business: “It’s a survey. We don’t pay anything. We just want to improve our services.”

Me: “I’m sorry. I only do volunteer work for charities."

Nowadays, in my quest to make the world a little nicer, I just say no.

But my local Mazda dealership is having a tough time getting the message. After my battery flunked its 15,000 mile inspection, I took the car to Mazda, who replaced the battery at a pro-rated charge.

Within a week, I received two computer calls asking me to answer their questions on service. I hung up. Then I received a call from a real person. I politely informed her that I don’t do surveys. Finally, I received a call from the service person, again asking about my “experience.” I told him it was fine.

And it was fine. But thinking about it later, if that Mazda dealer truly wanted to impress me with their service, it wouldn’t be by calling me four times. It would be by not making wait ten minutes in the driveway with my car to check-in when I arrived promptly for my scheduled appointment.

And it would be by not returning my car with the antenna missing. After I pointed it out, I had to wait an additional ten minutes for them to try and find it somewhere in the back. Yes, these are minor complaints. But if Mazda really wants to know what I think, they should send me a coupon for a free oil change or something.

I have information, but it’s not free. Unless, of course, you need directions to the train station in Cuzco. Then I’ll be glad to show you where it is on my map.

Photo by Alec Perkins in Kiev: Nancy, who while dressed in red fox is often mistaken for either a Russian woman or a large gerbil.

Travel Amnesia

A gynecologist once told me that immediately after giving birth, the mother's body is flooded with chemicals to make her forget the pain. I think independent travel is like that.

After all, it was only two years ago that I organized our trip for six people through Egypt. But did I remember the pain in setting that up? No, I only remember the joys of tromping through the amazing wonders of Luxor and climbing the base of the iconic pyramids in Cairo.

So I am huddled over my computer working along with Alec to book every individual piece of a 10-day vacation in Peru. I’ve already arranged the frequent flyer flights to get us to Lima and back. But from there we need to get to Cuzco, an ancient colonial city which is the jumping off point for Machu Picchu.

As the crow flies, Cuzco and Lima aren’t that far apart. However, the two are separated by the Andes. To get there, we have a choice of an 80-minute flight or a 19-hour bus ride.

Alec and Saori have decided to do the 19-hour Peruvian bus ride for “fun.” This does not sound like fun to Taylor and me. After 15 hours of flying, the last thing I want to do is to hang around another 10 hours before taking a 19-hour bus ride. I wouldn’t want to do a 19-hour bus trip in the U.S. where I know I'll find clean restrooms. Plus I find it a bit unsettling that Peruvian bus advertisements feel the need to highlight that their drivers aren’t drunk driving through the mountains!

So I am forgoing the adventure of a bus trip through the Andes for the adventure of trying to find a decent airfare between Lima and Cuzco. This flight is actually easy to book online–if I were willing to pay $411 per person for the roundtrip flights.

Instead, I scoured the Internet, finally finding the same flights for half that amount on the Peruvian airline’s Spanish website. At last, I am getting some money back for all that college Spanish I had to take!

I completed all the online forms in Spanish, only to get a message that my credit card wouldn’t go through. Wouldn’t go through? This is a credit card I have used in Russia, Cambodia, and the Middle East. If I wanted to charge something in Nigeria, the capital of fraud, the credit card company would put it right through.

So I called the Peruvian airlines who told me, in annoyance, that the fares on their Spanish website were for Peruvians only. They only accepted credit cards issued in Peru. I was fresh out of those, but I was not out of ideas.

Next, I tried a Peruvian travel agent. They came back with a quote for their five day Cuzco-Machu Picchu tour group package of $840 per person (which I didn’t request). This didn't include the roundtrip Lima to Cuzco flight, which she would book for an additional $411 per person.

I discovered the Peruvian carrier had a frequent flyer partnership with American Airlines. So I called American to see about using miles to get me there. Unfortunately, there were no frequent flyer seats available from Lima to Cuzco until the polar ice caps melted.

After another couple of hours of looking, I eventually booked the flights for $330 each. And this is just one aspect of our trip. There’s train tickets to Machu Picchu, airport transfers, and accommodations in Lima, Machu Pichhu, and Cuzco. So why are Alec and I going to this all trouble?

Besides saving money, we do it because we want to do what we want to do.

When our guide in Cairo called to inform us the van would be outside our hotel at 7 a.m. I was able to tell her, “You can have the van there any time you like, but we aren’t starting until 9.” This is one of the MANY advantages of traveling on your own.

Another is avoiding the “factory” tour. The factory inevitably consists of a small section where you can watch a craftsperson or two making something. If you are really into this, it is good for maybe 15 minutes of entertainment.

After that your group is shephered into the factory store, a giant area where you are LEFT for two hours while your bus driver and guide disappear. They are somewhere in the back plotting how they’ll spend their kickback money from whatever overpriced items you end up buying out of staggering boredom.

When you travel independently, you can skip the factory store. This leaves you all the time you want for places you really enjoy. So if you want to spend four hours thoroughly visiting the DaVinci’s home and grounds as we did in Loire, you can.

You decide when the tour is done. Ready right now for a cold drink, a hot shower or a nap? It’s up to you.

Yes, it’s more work than handing someone $840 and getting on and off the bus with 20 other people. But to me, it’s worth it. Besides, soon enough travel amnesia will kick in again and all I’ll remember was the great hike on Huyan Picchu or the delicioso cerviche place we stumbled onto one evening. And just like the mother of newborn, I’ll be posting the pictures soon.

Cat-astrophic

Not everyone liked Suki’s new do.

In fact, Alec was none too pleased I turned his dignified elderly cat into a “French Poodle,” especially as I did not wait to hear back from him before proceeding. For that I am sorry. If ever have grandchildren, Alec will never entrust them to me. I'd probably get them all tattooed, or something.

I like Suki's new haircut. She reminds me of a Supermodel at a ski resort with a skinnier body; big, furry boots; and a furry scarf. As Taylor put it, she looks like a Catwalk Cat. And that's probably puns enough for one blog.

The Mane Attraction

While Alec is in Oklahoma, giving Saori the cultural tour of mid-America, I am cat-sitting Suki. One of my self-appointed tasks in this capacity was trying to detangle her thick fur.

Suki looks like a bear. When we first adopted her as a kitten eight years ago, the humane society had classified her as a domestic longhair. But after she grew up, it’s clear there were more than a few hulking Maine Coon cats lurking in her family tree. There’s no other way to account for the fact that even as a female, she’s huge and has 6 inch long gray striped fur.

She doesn’t particularly like to be brushed. And the three minutes a day she would deign to sit still for this process was completely insufficient for the task. So I took her to PETsMART to be de-matted.

The groomer took one look at our Mongo cat and suggested an extreme makeover: a lion cut. “What’s that?” I asked.

“We shave the body. We leave fur around the face, like a lion’s mane. We also leave fur around the feet and at the bottom of the tail,” the groomer explained. “I have a cat like this and I did it with him.”

I agreed and she whisked Suki off to the grooming table where she was secured only with a strap lightly tied around her neck. I stood outside the picture window in the store looking into the grooming department and watched.

As the groomer worked, I was reminded of one haircut Taylor had in China. As a joke, Alec had made a buzzing noise when Taylor first sat down in the chair. The Chinese stylist, who spoke no English, took this as marching orders, whipping out his clippers. Before I could open my mouth, the stylist had shaved a large swatch off the top of Taylor’s head! (Taylor actually looked really cute in his buzz cut. Much better than his unruly curly mane of today. Maybe I could take him to PETsMART too.)

The PETsMART groomer shaved large patches off Suki. There was a pile of fur at her feet, enough to knit matching sweaters for the entire grooming staff.

Surprisingly, Suki didn’t object too much. But she had already endured the worst trial known to catdom–riding in the car! I cannot emphasize how much Suki hates this. This is a quiet cat whose only sound is a steady purr or a single short, demanding meow if you aren’t paying enough homage to her.

Put her in a moving car, however, and she howls loudly whenever the car is moving. This is a noise that goes unabated whether you are traveling one mile or 1,000. She howls as if someone has jabbed a needle in her eye. This, incidentally, is also how YOU feel after having to listen to this unceasing mournful racket.

To Suki, having your body shaved in a strange room full of people and dogs is nothing compared to that HELLISH CAR DRIVE.

Back at PETsMART, Suki was quite an attraction. I was joined at the window by various customers, each briefly stopping to watch the transformation. They all wanted to know what kind of cat got THAT big and THAT furry. Suki may have come in looking like a lamb and but she went out looking like a lion.

While it was a bit strange at first, Taylor and I really liked Suki’s transformation. And with all that fur gone, she looks a lot less fat. She now looks like she just needs a few more months on a kitty Jenny Craig rather than in need of a kitty gastric bypass

It just goes to prove that a good haircut can do wonders for a girl.

Photos: Suki shows off her new lion cut.

On the Inka Trail

Photo right: Machu Picchu.

As Alec pointed out in his last blog, I’ve said that if you are waiting for your dream trip to be convenient and affordable, you’ll never go anywhere.

So I’m going to Peru next month. But in a way, this trip actually is convenient and affordable. With the commitment of law school looming ahead, this will be my last opportunity for an extended getaway for a long while. And with my stockpile of airline frequent flyer miles, it will never be more affordable for me to get there.

Having made the decision to go, I was a bit concerned that I would have to make the trip alone. With hiking the Inka Trail in mind, I first offered a free ticket to Alec.

Taylor objected immediately. Why hadn’t I chosen him to be my travel buddy? I reminded him that as a young teenager, he said he wouldn’t mind hiking if it didn’t involve all that WALKING. In the ensuing years, his attitude on hiking hadn’t changed. I assured him that were I going to a luxury resort, he would have gone to the top of my list.

And he was still First Runner-Up. If Alec were unable to go, Taylor would be jetting down to Lima with me.

What I’d neglected to consider was that Taylor had grown up to be a history buff. (Like any parent, I do keep forgetting sometimes that my sons aren’t boys anymore. They are, however, very good at reminding me of that fact.) And while Taylor wasn’t much of an outdoorsman, he really wanted to go to Machu Picchu EVEN if he had to hike with me four days to get there.

After carefully consideration, Alec surprised and delighted me by saying yes to the trip. But I found I didn’t want to leave First Runner Up behind either. So I coughed up ANOTHER 70,000 miles so the three of us could go.

Had I been planning months in advance, I might have been able to secure the Supersaver 35,000 mile roundtrip fares. But the airlines exhausted their always meager supply of these seats long ago. However, the Supersaver first class tickets were still available for certain days. I was able to book first class flights for the same miles as I would have had to now spend for coach.

I was disappointed to discover that while we could get to Machu Picchu, we couldn’t hike in. Apparently, that trail is as crowded as rush hour on the I-10. You have to have a non-transferable permit, and these sell out months in advance. But Alec was able to secure space for two nights at a Gringo Bill’s, a nearby hostel, giving us plenty of time to explore there.

Yes, we’re staying in a hostel. I much prefer to spend my money on artwork and handicrafts. It will be an interesting contrast. We’ll be flying down (a 15 hour journey) in the luxury of first class: “Yes, I will have a glass of champagne, thank you”; and then staying at hostels with the International penny-pinching backpackers: “What time does the hot water in the shower turn on?”

Actually, in Cuzco we are looking for a small bed and breakfast as it will be our base of operations most of the time. We’ve agreed it must feature quaint Colonial Architecture (for Alec) and be spotlessly clean (for me).

As the family budget traveler expert, Alec is doing most of the legwork for the trip. I am happy to turn over the Official Tour Director duties to him. Saori, Alec’s girlfriend, became so enthused that I’m happy to report she has now decided to fly down on her own and join us.

So while I was resigned to going alone, our group has now blossomed to four people–all of us on the trail to Machu Pichhu.