Making your own vacation fun

A couple of weeks ago I did what I always advise people to do when they leave one job to take another — give yourself a break between gigs to have a carefree vacation. As far as I’m concerned, there’s no job that offers an adequate supply of days off. The best I’ve gotten was five weeks a year — and that wasn’t nearly enough. Of course, if you take a week or two off between jobs, it’s unpaid but still, it’s completely and 100 percent yours. Ahhhh.

So this week I started a new job. Last week I took my first solo vacation ever and it turned out to be wonderful. Now I don’t mean I traveled alone to get somewhere to visit friends or family. I’ve been there and done that and still have the stained, torn t-shirts to prove it. I’ve driven from northwest Florida to northwest Illinois several times (and unfortunately, as a college student, traveled that same route via Greyhound Bus). One fabulous summer years ago, I got on a train in Illinois and visited friends in Denver, southern California and Phoenix. But never before had I said to myself, Hey, Martha! Let’s you and me go on vacation together. Just the two of us.

The idea evolved gradually over several weeks. First I thought I’d take a week off between jobs to get some things done around the house, enjoying a week off from any job and having some quality workouts. But then I realized I didn’t need more workouts — I really get enough as it is. Eventually it occurred to me what I really wanted was a change of scenery plus the opportunity to keep up my fitness routine. The idea of a road trip was appealing, especially since I’d just been on a shortish road trip with my sister and nephews a few weeks ago. So I started thinking about places within a reasonable distance I might like to see. The next thing I knew, I had an itinerary. And then I’d made motel reservations even though, pardon me, I had reservations about what I was planning to do.

While pondering my trip, I told friends I hoped I’d have fun. I was going on the road with some definite places in mind and only tentative plans of what I would do when I got to those places. I worried aloud with one friend about how sorry I’d be if at some point when home was far away, I was miserable and regretted my attempt to vacation with only me for company. I’d feel stuck and would have to turn around and make the long drive home. I was worried that I hadn’t considered all the negative possibilities — what if I got  bored, lonely, scared or I don’t know what?

Since returning home, a couple of friends have told me they couldn’t have done the trip I did. I don’t feel particularly adventurous or bold but my vacation was, for me, a real adventure. I went to new places and did some new things. And the best part was not having any concerns at all about whether everyone was having fun and getting their needs met because I only had one person to satisfy  — me. So the day that stretched on and on with different activities and last-minute changes in plans might have been too much for someone else. But not for me. I ate when I was hungry. Stopped when something looked interesting. And pleasantly wore myself out everyday with swimming, walking, climbing, sightseeing, bike-riding, yoga and driving.

It wasn’t perfect. When I continued to get turned around trying to find my way around Savannah, GA, I figured a map-reading passenger would’ve come in handy. When I was triple-checking whether I had my key in hand before exiting my room, I thought a companion with a second room key would’ve been nice. The worst times, which weren’t bad at all, were evenings when I felt somewhat confined to my room (we all know what shady characters stay in motels). Nights were when it would’ve been nicest to have someone to compare notes with and rehash the day’s adventures. Instead, I spent my evenings writing it all down in my trip journal. It was a fun, relaxing, invigorating trip. And given the chance, I’ll do it again in a heartbeat.