Read According to Your Travels
... and thank me later!
For many years I’ve dodged the question from family, friends and peers about what I’m reading. While I understand it’s a habitual conversation filler, or a seemingly easy way to get to know a new side to someone – I’ve always had mixed feelings about the question.
In one way, and more relevant to job interviews or work trips, I’ve felt it was some sort of an intrusive pissing competition. In another way, I’ve always found reading to be deeply personal (I’m definitely that reader who takes the cover off hardbacks to preserve my privacy in an attempt to dodge a stranger striking up a conversation about “how great of a book it is”).
With that said, for many years, I haven’t read much. Yes, that’s correct, I am a writer and until this year, I struggled to finish a few books annually. (In hindsight, I’m realizing I might have felt personally attacked when people asked me what I was reading hence my irked reactions). But seriously, as someone who spends her day researching, writing and editing thousands of words, it was challenging for me to use reading as a way that many others use it; to relax, to learn, to escape.
Finally, at the start of this year, or should say, the end of last year, I made my usual “improve on” list — not resolutions I can break — and vowed to read at least six books in 2024. I surpassed this in May after a happy accident of aligning my chosen books to destinations where I was traveling. This inspired me to delve into classics as well as to research novels by country, to stumble on new inspiring authors.
All of a sudden, I am using reading to relax, to learn, to connect.
The idea started as I was reading A Writer’s Life by Gay Talese; I loved as he recounted his restaurant escapades in New York City, especially when I knew the corner cafe or neighborhood bar he was referring to (even if now defunct). The familiarity enticed me to keep reading. And, for the first time in a while, I felt an ability to be transported by picking up a book at the end of the day.
“What if I theme my books from now on?” I thought.
So, I tried it.
Coincidentally, when I was home at Christmas, I snagged A Year in Provence from my parents’ bookshelf and decided, despite the obvious cultural differences between the two regions, that I’d read it on my upcoming trip to Paris; flipping open the book, only to read about (read: drool over) the foie gras, beef én croute, fresh cheeses, nightly pastis and plentiful French delicacies that Peter Mayle penned about, certainly set the culinary tone for my trip.
In anticipation of my trip to Greece, I scoured the internet for a good read and stumbled on Things Can Only Get Feta, written by journalist Marjorie McGinn. I read the first few chapters on my red eye to Athens and felt prepared to tackle the Peloponnese as a result of McGinn’s way of incorporating local customs and popular phrases.
Prior to my arrival, I knew Greek’s have a challenging time pronouncing “J” thus would understandably stumble with my name; I knew a few key phrases like “para kalor” (you’re welcome) and that “kalimera” is to be used to say hello before noon, while “kalispera” is hello for anytime after. I also learned that there is no word in the Greek language for “privacy,” which explains why they are always seeking “parea,” or company, from the beach to dining out. They were small details that made a noticeable impact on my first few hours in Greece; I immediately felt more connected to the destination and was ready to devour the rest of the book when I tucked in at night to see what else aligned.
Next up was Under The Tuscan Sun and so it went…
I could continue, but for the sake of brevity and interest, I want to point out that not every book I read this year has been about travel. In fact, I landed on using my themed read as more of a “treat” while books in between are more conventionally educational. For example, I’m currently devouring a history of prohibition (Last Call, Daniel Okrent).
I realized that even when I associate reading with my upcoming or past destinations, the genre can become monotonous; therefore, spacing these books out helps maintain my focus as well as achieve my goals of reading more in general. I can almost use travel-related books as a “reward” for finishing a more academic or historical account. I don’t like to start a book without finishing the current read, so I suppose I’m practically in the aforementioned competition, but with myself, to see what I can finish before taking off on my next trip — my journey-inspired title in hand.
All this to say, if you’re planning a trip to a new (or return!) destination, perform a quick browse for some destination-related publications. You’ll be surprised at how increasingly present you feel during your trip, and even after the trip, in case you didn’t have enough time to finish the book in between exploring and imbibing.
On that note: I actually discovered how flipping through the last pages on my first nights back home helped solidify the reality of my travels. It even helped me reflect on some experiences I may have considered insignificant at the time, yet in hindsight, felt like a special occurrence or interaction that I must add to my travel notes.
If you give it a try, let me know! I promise, I won’t follow it up with prying questions that I once avoided myself ;)
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