You may be asking yourself, "hey, is this a blog for me? Am I, indeed, a weenie?" By reading this blog week over week, you will be able to determine whether you fall into this category or not. Just know that in no way is "weenie" pejorative. The fact is, anyone who is game for travel cannot be a total weenie.
That said, let me try to hone in on a definition. As I mention in my bio, I have been dragged into all sorts of compromising situations during my years of travel. Some adventures, like traveling to dictatorships in Asia and Europe, have been exciting and illuminating. Living in Bologna for six weeks to study Italian--I tackled that one with gusto.
For me, it's usually the ones that involve physicality that bring out my true inner weenie. As I sit astride a horse from Montana who has decided to practice for the Kentucky Derby; as I pedal a bicycle through Provence while heading straight into the Mistral; as my crampons slip and slide on a New Zealand glacier; as I drop my robe before entering a naked co-ed German sauna--I have to ask myself, to paraphrase The Talking Heads, how did I get here? A true adventure traveler never asks that question--they savor the precariousness of all situations--mental or physical.
Of course, people perceive peril differently. I have no problem walking through a souk in Marrakesh alone. But many others would view that as foolhardy. Similarly, when I traveled by myself behind the Iron Curtain, people thought I must be made of steel. Personally, I never felt safer. In other words, I have little fear of traveling alone.
On the other hand, make me go kayaking in Hawaii (long story--you'll hear about it in another post) or force me to go camping in the wilderness with no indoor plumbing and out comes my inner weenie.
What I am trying to say is that, on some level, everyone is a weenie. Everyone is not a weenie in the same way, but even the biggest hot dog has a slice of weenie in him. This blog is designed to encourage everyone--from the mini-weenie to the giant weenie--to take a step away from the proverbial cozy bun and mustard (sic) up the courage to relish adventure travel in a big way.
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| You wanted to see a naked spa picture, didn't you? |
For me, it's usually the ones that involve physicality that bring out my true inner weenie. As I sit astride a horse from Montana who has decided to practice for the Kentucky Derby; as I pedal a bicycle through Provence while heading straight into the Mistral; as my crampons slip and slide on a New Zealand glacier; as I drop my robe before entering a naked co-ed German sauna--I have to ask myself, to paraphrase The Talking Heads, how did I get here? A true adventure traveler never asks that question--they savor the precariousness of all situations--mental or physical.
Of course, people perceive peril differently. I have no problem walking through a souk in Marrakesh alone. But many others would view that as foolhardy. Similarly, when I traveled by myself behind the Iron Curtain, people thought I must be made of steel. Personally, I never felt safer. In other words, I have little fear of traveling alone.
On the other hand, make me go kayaking in Hawaii (long story--you'll hear about it in another post) or force me to go camping in the wilderness with no indoor plumbing and out comes my inner weenie.
What I am trying to say is that, on some level, everyone is a weenie. Everyone is not a weenie in the same way, but even the biggest hot dog has a slice of weenie in him. This blog is designed to encourage everyone--from the mini-weenie to the giant weenie--to take a step away from the proverbial cozy bun and mustard (sic) up the courage to relish adventure travel in a big way.
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