Newsletter #28: Across the Atlantic

Samaria Gorge

I vaguely remembered this hike from 2015, although the extent to which I remembered it was minimal. Steep downhill to start, several creek crossings, lots of walking over rocks, and hot, long and hard. I was intrigued to see how my memory lined up with the hike this time around, and how difficult I would find it given all the hiking I’d been doing.

It’s different than any hike I’ve done in the past year. It’s all downhill through the Gorge (which I must say is quite nice), with sections of large rock faces shooting straight up on both sides less than a few dozen feet away from each other. The pink wildflowers were abundant, and brightened up the grey stones, brown rock faces, and greenery. It didn’t quite look like Utah, but the canyons there are probably the closest thing I could compare it to.

There were some areas that I recognized quite well, and could tell what was coming, but overall the details I was observing were as if I was hiking the trail for the first time. 

Halfway down, we took a rest stop at one of the few spots I did remember. As we were snacking away, a curious little goat started walking towards us. He poked his head around our table, saw the snacks in front of me, and stood right next to me as if he was waiting to be fed. He didn’t seem bothered at all by the number of people around, and even let me pet him for a few seconds. After realizing he wasn’t gettting any free lunch from me, he moved along and continued pleading his case to others around.

As we arrived to the town at the end of the hike, my dad, brother and I had been discussing our memories of a pizza restaurant we ate at the first time. We were intent on finding it again. Thankfully, the town isn’t too big. But it felt like we’d covered nearly the whole place without any of us recognizing it. Then, as soon as we rounded one last corner, all of us instantly recognized the patio of restaurant.

It honestly shocked me how this blurry memory of a restaurant clicked into place so quickly after seeing it again. The pizza wasn’t quite as good as we remembered it being, but it was still pretty solid. A much more enjoyable meal to end a hike with than the ones I was eating in South America.

Go Karting

These go karts I have a very clear memory of. They were the fastest go karts I’d ever ridden, and it put all other go karts I’d ridden to shame. But once again, it had been ten years. I wasn’t sure if my brain was playing tricks on me, and if I’d still find it as thrilling as I remembered being much older.

One of the members of the hotel staff where my dad stays was the initiator of the idea last time. She still works at the hotel, and she was just as excited as the rest of us to join again. One of her friends on staff joined and the seven of us headed to the track for some friendly competition.

As our cars jolted forward off the starting line, I instantly started laughing. My memory was sound. We were in for a great time. We raced around the track for the next half hour or so in two different rounds.

Me being me, I wanted to know how fast we were really going. So I tracked it on my Garmin. My average speed over those twenty odd minutes was 26.5 mph (42.5 kmh), peaking at 43.5 (70). I’ve never tracked any other go karts, but I’d be surprised if I’ve ever hit those type of numbers anywhere else.

It was a nice little adrenaline fix that I’ve been missing for a while. Here’s all of us at the track and at dinner later that night.

Pompeii & Mt. Vesuvius

Our first day in Italy, we took a day trip to explore the ancient city of Pompeii and see the volcano that turned the city to ruins nearly two thousand years ago.

The city was far bigger than I anticipated it being, and our guide explained to us that what we were seeing above ground is far from the complete city. Every year they continue to dig and expand the city, however, the ash happens to be quite an effective preservative, so there is no rush to uncover the rest of it. In fact, it is even better preserved underground than it could be if it was exposed to the elements.

We saw the public baths, marketplaces, houses (in which there were quite the contrast between the tiny, two room spaces most families had and the elaborately decorated villas of the wealthy elite), public “kitchens” where people could get food and the large stone streets that weaved through it all. The streets were designed with “parking spaces” where you could anchor your horse / cart, and elevated stones that served as crosswalks when the roads were filled with water (and sewage. Fun).

It always amazes me how much we are able to learn about ancient civilizations, and even more so how intentional the design of each aspect of the city was. Sometimes I feel that fewer technological advances forced a culture of innovation and effective design. Clearly systems were far from perfect, and I’d choose the technology we have any day of the week, but it is fascinating seeing the creativity of people using only the resources available to them.

Mt Vesuvius was more of a drive up than a hike, but we walked up the last 30 min or so up to the top. It was a hazy day, so the views from the top weren’t all that captivating, but the volcano itself was something to marvel at.

Amalfi Hikes

While in Amalfi, we did a few more hikes to poke around the area.

The first was through Valle delle Ferriere which took us up the valley through lemon groves, ruined buildings in the forest, and waterfalls (which I proceeded to jump in very quickly). There was even a shop halfway through selling fresh squeezed lemonade, which we used to refresh ourselves.

The second was the most famous hike on the coast – the Path of the Gods, which winds down along the coast from the town of Bomerano to the iconic town of Positano. We didn’t have amazing visibility for this one, but still were able to see Positano from above. We also stumbled across a rock wall next to the trail with many labeled climbing routes on it. Unfortunately, rope and harnesses were not on our packing list for the day so we didn’t get a chance to climb. I can imagine it would be an epic place to do so, especially on a clear day. Maybe next time.

On Consumerism

Honking horns. Throngs of pedestrians. Endless shops and restaurants. Bright lights and colors everywhere. I started noticing all of these in a new light after arriving back to Lima, followed by Madrid, and the Amalfi Coast (small towns, but even more densely filled than the big cities).

The few weeks prior, along with the majority of South America, I’d gotten used to the quiet simplicity of less touristy cities. Instead of shopping malls, there were local markets. Instead of fancy restaurants, I ate cheap, simple menu del dia’s with a selection of less than ten options. All the Patagonia, Oakley, and Gucci products I saw were knock offs for a fraction of the price.

The contrast was striking. Overnight it felt like everything was vying for my attention. For some reason, being in a place that was far more expensive created a desire to spend more money. And it felt like it was designed to do exactly that. Without the suit in the window, why would I even be thinking about buying a suit in the first place unless I needed it for a very specific purpose?

It’s easy for me to feel overwhelmed with all the stimuli. It’s easy for me to feel like I need more than I really do, and even want items I don’t actually want. The lines between what is a want and what is a need quickly blur. In places where the newest trends are being thrown directly in our faces, it’s hard not to. If this weren’t true, Keeping up with the Joneses wouldn’t be a phrase that we still all recognize. And this feeling extends far beyond physical stimuli walking down expensive shopping streets in big cities. It permeates many places, even into the palms of our hands through our phones.

In those spaces, I need to be intentional to recognize what is happening around me, and how it is designed to elicit a specific response from me. Especially in regard to rampant consumerism, I think the antidote my brain needs is contentment. There is no argument that I do not have everything I need, and far more. And that is enough.

I might think I need more, but I know I don’t.

I know because I’ve worn the same 4 t-shirts for the past 8 months and have been just fine.

I know because after losing my favorite hat all the way back in Vietnam, I bought a fake Nike cap for $4 that is functionally equivalent.

I know I don’t need a new bike because 30 years ago my dad rode a steel frame, rim brake bike with 19 mm tires across Europe for over a month.

I know I don’t need all the latest ultralight hiking gear because I’ve carried loads twice the weight.

Out of all the purchases I have made, there is a tiny subset that have tangibly made my life better in a meaningful way. People around me rarely notice that anything is new or different. If they do, it’s a one time observation that quickly fades to the background.

I may want more, but I do not need more.

At this point, part of me feels like I’m just rambling. So I’ll land this plane, and hopefully that flight path wasn’t too chaotic. To close, I think what I’m attempting to get at is something along these lines.

Don’t let consumerism get the best of you. Wanting things isn’t bad. Buying those same things isn’t bad. The opportunity lies in becoming fully conscious of why we are purchasing what we are purchasing, and being able to distinguish between wants and needs. If we start from a place of contentment with what we have rather than a place of anxiety created by external sources telling us what we don’t, I think we’re on the right path towards consuming in a mindful and sustainable fashion.

I write all this in an attempt to remind myself just as much as you.

As always, if you know anyone that you think would be interested in anything I’m writing about, I’d ask that you consider sharing this with them.

Thanks for being here. Talk to you next week.

– Trevor