Planes, Trains and Orthotics: A Middle-Age Woman's Guide to Travel

For those of you middle age women who often feel like your mind and body are falling apart, spend a few days with some of your friends. The last few days have completely validated my aches and complaints and for the first time in a long time, I have realized that I am not alone. While we gabbed about nearly every topic under the sun, a disproportionate amount of time was spent on foot maladies, determining which shoes should be worn for our trek around Chicago--style or comfort and would we get cold in a city that is known for its wind.  Unfortunately, a few chose style--an incorrect choice after walking seven miles. Needless to say, by the end of our day, there was significant limping going on. And then there was the bathroom visits. For women of our age, making sure there is easy access to a bathroom is critical to the success of any outing. We hit the jackpot on the food tour as there was a bathroom at nearly every stop--and we all went en masse at each opportunity. The way we...

I am headed to a "reunion of sorts."  Years ago, three women and I went through a difficult time in our lives and vowed that although we lived in different parts of the country, we would share new, and happy memories together in the future.  For more than 20 years, we have kept that promise and this time, our new and happy memories will be made in Chicago. But any reunion means planning is involved and I wasn't sure I was up for the task. My past experiences in the Windy City consisted of non-descript conference rooms that could have just as easily been located at the Marriott at Newark Airport. In fact, my knowlege of Chicago includes: -It is located on Lake Michigan; -It has two baseball teams; -There was a big fire here in the 1800's that had something to do with a cow; -Rahm Emmanuel is Mayor, at least for a little while longer; and -Tickets to "Hamilton" are cheaper here than in NYC. With that inadequate foundation I turned to the only true rel...

Last full day of vacation: There is nothing that demonstrates the difference between the American and European mindframe than the hours of the hotel fitness center.  In the United States, if a hotel gym isn't open 24 hours a day, it's usually pretty darn close. They recognize that many who regularly workout want to accomplish this task prior to the beginning of their work day while others enjoy a run or weightlifting after a long day of wheeling and dealing.  Thus, providing flexible fitness center hours makes for happy guests. This is not the case here in Croatia. At home, Bob and I are regular morning attendees at our local gym and similarly when we travel, we like to get up early, workout and then begin the day. Here, no fitness center opened before 8 am.  This was less of a problem for me because on hiking days, I was saving all my strength and energy for whatever Kilimanjaro-like mountain layed ahead of me that day but for Bob, this became an issue. On one morn...

Days 7 and 8 (I think). Our last few days of hiking were quite eventful. On Thursday, we hiked the west coast of the Island of Hvar, with its beautiful views of the Adriatic.  The thing about this hike was that while the views were incredible, there were virtually no people. It was probably all the bloody rocks. Imagine our surprise, when as we were walking through a wooded area (there were rocks there too) and we began to hear multiple voices--all of which seemed to be at a fevered pitch.  We were about 10 miles from the middle of nowhere, when like a jack-in-the-box, a young woman with a lot of female attributes and not enough bathing suit, jumped out of a bush holding a map and said, "I don't speak good English," and as she pointed to the map said, "I'm looking for this bitch!" At that moment, several things went through my mind. First, what "bitch" was on a map and second, could she be dresses any more inappropriately? The first question wa...

Days 6 and 7:  Korcula and Hvar I've had my first accident. I wish I could say that it took place while I was climbing the Croatian version of Mt. Everest (Although there were a couple of times when I thought I was) or that the jagged terrain was too much for my middle aged ankles, but it was nothing like that. While in Korcula, I had to go to the bathroom in the middle of the night and the room was so dark that I stubbed my toe so badly I saw stars--even in the darkness. This less than auspicious injury had its consequences. While I generously supplied Aspercreme to my latest injury (thank God I brought the big bottle!) it and of course, my less than stellar knee, was making it too difficult to become a competing member of the JV team. And so I gave up. Before beginning this trip, I honestly thought I'd be a few steps short of skipping through the entire vacation. (I really did buy into the 1-3 level) On day 4, my hiking inadequacies became crystal clear. I assessed my m...

Day 5: Orabic and the Island of Korcula Today's agenda had our group traveling northwest along the coastline to a beautiful town called Orabic. From there, the plan was to begin hiking, stop for lunch at a family-run restaurant with beautiful views of the Adriatic, hike some more and then take a 15 minute boat ride to the Island of Korcula. Needless to say, it sounded like a full day. Last night, our two young guides told us that the bus route along the coast was winding and that we should take precautions if we were inclined to get car/bus sick.  As I am so inclined, I took every measure imaginable not to embarrass myself amongst my new hiking friends.  Or so I thought. I made sure I strategically placed myself at the beginning of the bus line so that I could sit directly behind our guides. I placed my "Sea Bands" perfectly against the pulses located on my wrists. And when one of the guides offered everyone candied ginger, I took a big piece, as I had read that ing...

Day 4:  Today was the first day of our five-day hiking trip.  Unfortunately, it began with a bit of marital discord. While we are regular gym enthusiasts, hiking is not something we do regularly, and in fact our hiking boots may have looked a little too new for any of the die-hands we assumed would be on the trip. Because this was a sport we did not participate in with any regularity, my goal was for us both to go "under the radar."  I did not appreciate the full extent of "hiking ware."  Besides the boots and expensive socks, my hiking repertoire consisted of a couple of new workout shirts from Marshall's and some khaki shorts.  Even with my lack of knowledge, I knew--from the pictures of travelers in the brochures--that I would blend in. Apparently my husband had either reviewed different brochures or not looked at them at all because he dressed in an outfit that first didn't match and second appeared to be an ensemble more suitable for golf or a light...