The Perfect Trip

Unfortunately,  there is no such thing as the one single perfect trip. They all are perfect, in their own little imperfect way, aren’t they?

So there you have it, the answer to that question we are asked most often. What’s the best place you’ve ever visited?

Don’t get discouraged so soon, read on and at the end you will know what it takes to find that perfect trip.

Maybe an answer like, “Oh”, said with lots of emotional seduction, when we stayed at the ultra-mega luxurious palace of the King on the little Island of always sunny, or when we swam naked with the humpback whales or was that swam with the humpback whales naked, as in without a protective cage, would be a more fascinating response, instead of that boring answer with which I lead this story.

The answer to the perfect trip is coming. Stay with me a second longer while I revisit my high school days at the all boy school run by religious brothers. I had just finished physics class with Brother Sullivan, and questioning my existence, I asked him what and why? What am I here for and why me?

I know, it sounds heavy, but it’s really not. It’s an inspiring  story that may give you that little bit of  “go for it”, putting any fears aside and opening up an enjoyable time. It is, as I see it, a road map on how to find that perfect trip.  Wait, I thought I said in opening this article that the perfect trip didn’t exist.   Yes, I did. You are not crazy, it’s probably me who is the crazy one.  Regardless of judging me as the nutcase,  read on, the perfect trip answer will be revealed.

Now, back to the story in which I asked Brother the what and why question.

With that, Brother said, “follow me”.

I know it sounds religious, but it’s not. He simply meant walk this way.

Walk this way I did, back to the empty lab room. He proceeded to tell me that I am sitting under the apple tree looking up at all the apples. He left me there, not physically, just mindfully. He went about shuffling papers around on his desk as if he was getting ready to correct them, which he probably was.

Three or four moments might have passed as I pondered the apple tree scenario. Then, I asked, “Are they ripe red apples?”

“Maybe”, he responded, taking a moment to stop with the papers. He was now looking at me, eye to eye.

My mind was racing, seeking something more definitive. “Can I climb up the tree and pick one,” I asked?

“If you want,” he said.

“Should I just sit here and wait for one to fall on my head,” I said, becoming more anxious for definiteness?

“You could,” he answered.

“Well,” I said with my frustration reaching new heights.   “How will I know if it is the right apple, what if it has worms, how will I know?”

He smiled. Then, rising from his chair,  he grabbed my right hand and placed his other hand on my shoulder saying, “Now you are getting it.”

With that, our conversation had ended.

If, in reading this now, and you are like me, you are a bit dumbfounded, asking what’s the point in all this and how does it relate to the perfect trip?

Maybe you just had that light shine. Either way, just take the trip. To this day, I’ve not found a worm in any apple I’ve bitten. There have been a few times when the apple was just ok. Sometimes you must add your own ingredients, but that’s when we’ve experienced the best apple pie. Then there are the times we find sweet and juicy apples.

If you choose not to climb the tree and wait for that apple to hit you on the head, you have taken away your own ability to pick your trip. In order to know the perfect journey, one must have a journey to compare. It’s the not so good apples that make the sweet and juicy ones great. We need both.

There you have it, the steps required for the perfect trip. Enjoy.

Note: When I wrote this post it was a simple stand alone article. It has now become the idea behind our new podcast titled Spain: The Perfect Trip in Retrospect.  It’s a story of a string of miss-queues told in reverse, changing disaster into the perfect trip.  It will be posted Friday, October 23, 2015, in two days. I am always amazed at how things go, come, and are.