You know when you’re laying in bed, trying to go to sleep but your brain has other plans? But instead of reliving every bad decision I’ve ever made, I thankfully started thinking about my most favorite travel memories.
The ones that mean the most.
The experiences that bring a smile to my face whenever I relive them.
The adventures that I always fantasize talking about in my make-believe Q&A session with future “fans” or whatever at a fictional meet-up.
Because surely they would ask about my favorite travel memories. I mean, who wouldn’t?
If I ever had to live through my own version of Groundhog Day on a particular day of my choosing, surely these would be in my top choices.
With these memories, I make no apologies. They are my memories and I’ve decided to write them down for myself. To keep them together in a place that I can relive them whenever I need a pick-me-up. When I might be struggling. When I need some assistance remembering the little things that make travel so important to me…
So here I am, sitting at my desk at midnight, unable to sleep due to a flood of happy travel memories filling the deep recesses of my mind. What better time to write about my favorite travel memories?
EATING HOT BREAD ON MOLOKAI
In 2015, my friend Nikki and I traveled to Hawaii to attend our friend Jane’s wedding on Maui. After the wedding we took advantage of our time together and island-hopped over to Molokai for a few nights.
I’m not 100% clear on how it transpired, but a local guy asked Nikki and I if we were going to be getting “hot bread” that evening.
Huh?
Apparently there was a local lady who made hot bread certain days of the week that you can purchase…and apparently it was delicious and not-to-be-missed.
So after a long day of adventuring, I headed back to our boat for the evening at the Kaunakakai Pier while Nikki headed to a sketchy back alley, knocked on a random door, handed over some cash, and was given a plastic grocery bag full of hot bread in return.
Once she returned to the boat and we tore into the bag, it was evident that the local guy wasn’t exaggerating.
It. Was. Delicious.
I don’t remember what the bread tasted like. Or what it was filled with (was it jam or a sweet cream cheese?). But it is still one of my favorite travel memories. Why is that?
I think the reason this is one of my favorite travel memories is because it’s the kind of thing you hear about but never anticipate happening to you. As my mom would say, it’s a “psst…hey buddy” moment.
Nikki and I were in the right place at the right time, talking to the right local guy. It was like a secret that we were invited to keep, enjoy, and feel the Spirit of Aloha. This is the essence of travel to me.
HOT COCOA IN KRAKOW
On my second day in Krakow, Poland, I ventured out and decided to take a bike tour. I knew virtually nothing about Krakow and thought it might be fun to stretch my legs a bit after some long train rides from Prague.
My group turned out to be myself, 2 small families from Ireland, and our Polish tour guide…the makings of a merry little group. And we were.
We cycled around the old town square, headed towards the historical Kazimierz district and some of the sights where the movie “Schindler’s List” was filmed. We ducked into a cute little cafe in the middle of a housing block, hoping that the random precipitation wouldn’t turn into a torrential downpour.
Spoiler alert: it did.
This was my first exposure to how wonderful people all over the world are. How caring. Giving. Selfless.
I was still at the front end of my pre-study abroad travel and pinching my pennies, so I was going to settle for a piece of fruit and a granola bar that I still had from the States.
Before I knew it, one of my new Irish friends set down the most delicious cup of liquid chocolate, aka Polish hot cocoa. I couldn’t believe how wonderful it felt to have someone, a literal stranger, looking out for me, a solo female traveler on the other side of the world.
I’m not sure if my friend’s sweet gesture had anything (or everything) to do with it, but that was the best cup of hot cocoa that I’d ever had.
WAITING OUT THE RAIN IN KRAKOW
After the memorable hot cocoa moment listed above, our little cycling family headed back towards the bike shop to conclude our tour and turn in our bikes. By this time, the sky had exploded and we were getting soaked. The little alley that the bike store shared with a pub was starting to get flooded, so we ducked into the pub for shelter.
I don’t remember what we talked about, what we ate, or if there was anyone else in the pub at the time. All I remember was that my new Irish family and I sat, ate, and chatted for over 2 hours. The pub was dark, the food was delicious, the company was amazing.
It was, once again, one of those amazing moments that you hear about, but never think that it would happen to you organically. But then when it does, enjoy the moment and don’t bother with the camera.
EATING A HAMBURGER IN HAMBURG
Sometimes I just crack myself up and it makes for good conversation. During my study abroad in 2015, all of my classmates and I took a class trip to Hamburg, Germany.
Hamburg? Hamburger. It didn’t take me long to realize that I wanted to have a hamburger in Hamburg.
Our group made it’s way over to a beach bar and grill…and of course I ordered a burger.
Unfortunately the hamburger wasn’t very good, but the fact that I ate a hamburger in Hamburg is a precious memory. Yeah, I’m pretty funny and awesome like that.
LIVE JAZZ IN PRESERVATION HALL
My first true girl’s trip was to New Orleans back in 2013 with one of my best girl friends, Michelle, and I couldn’t have been more excited. All I knew about New Orleans was jazz all day, amazing food, and voodoo. Keen to not miss anything, I asked all of my friends and coworkers for personal recommendations on things to do.
One activity that kept coming up was to catch a live show at Preservation Hall, a historic jazz venue that holds nightly shows. We were warned to show up early and wait in line, as the venue only allows a certain amount of people in at a time.
So we did. Michelle and I found the queue and waited outside for about an hour. We had missed the first show by a handful of people, but kept our place in line, as the last show would be a madhouse. We stood in line, people-watched, checked out the House of Voodoo across the street, and chatted about our mutual love of music.
I grew up playing the trombone in jazz band at my middle and high schools, and was extremely vocal in my hopes that there would be a trombone player in the band we were about to go see!
Spoiler alert: there was!
When our turn finally came, we paid our fee and squished into the weathered room that just breathed history. We stood in the back and muscled our way closer to the band, so we were in perfect viewing position: standing just behind the seated rows.
The band grooved, the crowd cheered, and I’m pretty sure I shed a tear or two. I remember locking eyes with the tenor saxophone player for quite a while, and a jolt of electricity shot through my body. I couldn’t believe I was here, in a historic music hall, listening to live jazz.
And even to this day, I will pull up some of the more popular songs that the Preservation Hall Jazz Band have recorded, just to relive such a sweet memory.
Don’t you just love thinking about your favorite travel memories? What are your favorite travel memories? Why did they make your list?
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