After my family left Italy, I spent my last few weeks making a few additional stops on the way home to visit several friends. I figured that given I was coming back from Europe anyway, England and New York were as close to convenient as they’d ever be to visit.
I did still parade around a bit as a tourist in both places, but my priorities were centered around spending time with people I don’t get to see very often and taking time to rest. Much like my family time the weeks prior, having the focus around friends was refreshing given it’s been one of the most wearying parts of traveling. Before getting into activities, I figured I’d provide some brief context on who each of these friends are since you may not know or remember them.
I met Amy my first week of traveling in Vietnam all the way back in October. We spent a couple days together in Da Lat, after which Amy continued South as I went North. A month later we discovered we’d overlap in Thailand, and reconnected. It was there where I met a jet-lagged Becca at a night market mere hours after she arrived to join Amy for the next few months. Later that week, we realized our itineraries were nearly identical for the next 3 months. We proceeded to spend several days in Bali together in December, two weeks together in Australia in January (along with Becca’s friend Claire, who unfortunately wasn’t able to join for festivities this time), and a week in New Zealand together in February. It was in New Zealand when Ted joined and we all spent many a morning on hikes or runs, many afternoons at a pub, and even celebrated my birthday together the day before I flew out.
The night I met Annabel in Vietnam, we and several others were all planning on doing a hike together the next day. Unfortunately, I proceeded to get a severe case of food poisoning that night and spent the rest of my time in Sapa laying in a bed with no energy to interact with anyone. I said goodbye to Annabel with no expectation of ever seeing her again. Fast forward over a month, I walked up to the bar at my hostel in Penang, Malaysia and recognized a familiar face at the other end. With no food poisoning this time around, we and a few other friends had a fun little group that spent the next several days together.
Jaron and I go back just a bit further than the others. Jaron had the privilege of having me as his pledge educator back in his freshman year of college. For some reason, he’s put up with me ever since. Even after graduating, we’ve made an effort to catch up as close to a monthly cadence as possible, and he’s become one of the most consistent friends in my life in recent years. Four years ago he moved to NYC to start his physical therapy program and though we’ve kept up with each other, I’d yet to visit him and his girlfriend Elise in his new home.
These are the friends I’ve been thankful to share time with over my last few weeks traveling. Now that you’re up to speed with the who, here’s some of the what.
LOCATIONS
- Chelmsford, England (June 20 – July 2)
- New York City, New York (July 2 – July 6)
ACTIVITIES
London
I’ve been to London before, but never with a local. So the first obligatory item on the agenda in England was a trip in. Ted was out of town for work that day, so Amy, Becca and I took the train into the city. Outside of loads of walking around, the primary goal was to try tons of food that they insisted I must eat for a proper English/London experience. Every item I tried, I had to rate on a scale of 1-10 and explain why.
This is a great (and likely only) opportunity for me to go on a small tangent on ratings and why I think they’re often wildly unhelpful. If you’re uninterested, please, feel free to skip past the next paragraph.
In the Google Maps and similar spheres of rating, it’s impossibly difficult to tell when a restaurant is exceptional. Generally speaking, people start with 5 stars (or whatever the peak of the rating scale is), as a baseline and begin taking off stars with anything they are unhappy with (slow service, cold food, bland, dirty atmosphere etc). People are also generally generous with what they take off. A 1 star has to be the absolute worst restaurant experience ever. Even if I see a 3 star review, I’m likely to interpret that as quite a bad experience someone had rather than an appropriately average one (as it should represent). This leads to any acceptable restaurant likely being between 4-4.5 stars, and there are an overwhelming number of restaurants that fall into this category. It then becomes incredibly difficult for superior restaurants to stand out, as they only have a .5 star window to stand out above the rest. And a 4.8 vs a 4.5 doesn’t feel that much higher. Maybe there should be a bell curve enforced rating system. If that’s something you’d be in favor of, let me know that I’m not alone in this. Anyway, rant over. This reminds me of a conversation I had with a friend back in Thailand. He told me about a book called Numbermania (that I still have yet to read, sorry Anthony) that talks about this and many other concepts on how numbers invade our lives. Maybe go check it out if you’re passionate about this as well. I know that at a minimum he’ll appreciate reading this.
Whether you read the last paragraph or not, you should know that I tried to be as accurate as possible with my ratings with 1 being “arguably the worst food I’ve ever eaten“, 5 being “perfectly average. In no way exceptional, in no way detestable” and 10 being “this meal might have just changed my life”. The list for that day included a Gregg’s sausage roll, lunch and several sweets from Borough Market, and a cookie from Ben’s Cookies, as well as probably one or two more that I’m forgetting. Now that I’m looking back on this list, it’s a good thing we walked around so much given how much sugar I ate that day. My ratings were a nearly perfect trend upward starting from average all the way up to 8/8.5s, which was an ideal way to structure the day.
Here’s us between food stops enjoying the sunshine and looking back at the Tower Bridge.
A few days later, I made a second trip back into London to grab dinner with Annabel. Like me, Annabel quit her job before her travel stint and had to go through the fun process of finding something new (the reality of traveling that I’m THE MOST excited for). Among other things, we talked through what that process was like, how it’s been adjusting back to a new job, new routine and what role we think travel will play throughout the rest of our lives.
It’s been much longer since I’ve seen Annabel than the others, and was so much fun connecting again 6 months after we said goodbye in Malaysia. It’s always encouraging to talk to someone who’s just a few steps ahead of you in the process of life. My experience looking for a job might not look exactly the same as Annabel’s, but there will be similarities. And the most important part is, it may take time, but eventually it will work out. Neither of us have ever looked back on our decisions to quit jobs and travel with regret. We’ve both learned about ourselves and grown through the process. It’s nice knowing that someone on the other side of the job hunt still feels the same way, even through the difficult patches of the searching.
When it comes to myself looking forward beyond this season of travel, I’ve always had a fear of life returning to exactly the was before I started. It’s easy for me to think about it as one step forward and two steps back somehow. That life afterward must look radically different than before, otherwise why did I leave in the first place? Slowly, I’ve come to the realization this isn’t true. Even if life ends up looking eerily similar to what it looked like before traveling, that doesn’t say anything about the value of my time traveling. I know with full confidence it was worth it.
I didn’t really anticipate writing that last part, but as I did, I was reminded that this is probably one of the biggest things I’ve wrestled with traveling and have found peace with. I’m hoping that it made sense and that some part of it resonates with at least one of you reading this. There’s a lot more behind all that, so if you’ve got questions or want to talk through similar feelings, you know where to find me.
The Local Tour
“Yeah, you’re probably the only tourist in Chelmsford. There isn’t much here someone would visit for.” Ted responded after hearing my initial impressions on Chelmsford feeling quaintly simple and quiet.
I wasn’t opposed to this. I’ve been a tourist for a long time now, and being in a place that doesn’t scream “tourism” made Chelmsford a perfect place to ease my way back into some semblance of a routine. In addition to the lack of a tourist scene, my friends were not traveling with me, but rather in their regular day to day routines. During the week, I spent the work hours on my own, doing a lot of relaxing (have I mentioned I’ve been a bit burnt out on traveling?). Then, in the evenings I got to join in on Ted and Becca’s regularly scheduled programming, which was a healthy mix of exercise, socializing, and staying in.
I opted out of their hyrox workouts, but I joined in for all the run sessions, including a track session (which was horrible, as all track sessions are), a chill run club session, and a Saturday Parkrun. I also found myself at several pubs and cafes meeting a handful of Ted’s friends as well as chatting more with run club folks.
All this made me even more excited to be home. It was like getting a taste of what I’d get after returning. Plus I’d be around my own community with whom I’ve had incredibly limited time with since October.
Much like how Tuesdays are for tacos and Saturdays are for the boys, in England, Sundays are for roasts. It’s a universal amongst all the English people I’ve met when it comes to the best classic English food. So, of course, it had to be part of my time there. On my last Sunday there, we spent the evening at a tucked away patio restaurant called The Lion Inn.
The roast lived up to the hype. It was delicious. Somewhat similar in arrangement to an American Thanksgiving dinner, our roasts included big slab of roasted meat with gravy, vegetables, stuffing, crispy roasted potatoes, and the infamous Yorkshire Pudding. It is not, as the name would imply, a pudding in the American sense of the word. It had been described to me several times along the lines of “it’s made from a pancake batter but it’s baked and gets fluffy”, but I still had trouble conjuring any sort of mental picture of what this Yorkshire Pudding actually looked like. When it came out, it was nothing like any of the images I had come up with. Even after seeing it, it’s hard to describe it in comparison to anything else I’ve had before. In fairness, the description I was given wasn’t far off. It’s like a puffed up fluffy dough ball, and it mostly serves as a base to load gravy and meat onto. All in all, the roast was a solid 8/10 meal, with individual pieces even reaching the 8.5 mark.
After finishing the main meal, I satisfied my sweet tooth with a sticky toffee pudding (which is also not, as the name would imply, a pudding. To the Brits, a pudding is the equivalent to any dessert for us Americans, yet also somehow includes things like the previously mentioned Yorkshire Pudding. Anyway, I digress). Holy moly. The sticky toffee pudding was incredible. It’s the only piece of food I tasted in England that I rated a 9/10. And as we know on the Trevor Joireman Rating ScaleTM previously mentioned, a 10/10 is reserved only for truly exceptional, potentially life altering, dishes that set the bar for every other dish, which in total is probably between 5-10 dishes I’ve ever eaten (Tomo Sushi from Lima might be one of these extremely select few).
Our dinner was a great way to end our time together. I was reminded of all the adventures and memories this little group below has shared with me on the other side of the world, and it’s funny to me that I’ve somehow gotten to share more life with these three random Brits over the last eight months than anyone else. I’m grateful for these friends, and it was so much fun getting to see their corner of the world through their own eyes.
Cambridge
My friends said if there was one day trip I made, it should be to Cambridge.
Best known for its architecture, its a place that’s easy to enjoy simply by walking through the many streets and side alleys. Although part of me wanted to stay in Chelmsford the entire time and not think about the logistics and plans of taking a day trip to another town, I eventually decided to make the trip up on my last day knowing that I likely wouldn’t get another opportunity to go for some time.
The train ride was a lengthy two hours each way, but a two hour train ride is significantly more enjoyable than spending that same amount of time driving. I walked off the train and spent the next several hours on my feet. There were a few stops I wanted to walk by, but my primary aim for the day was simply to wander.
It was well worth the trip up. I found myself enjoying the fantastic Fitzwilliam Museum, then continued to walk by different styles of churches, universities, and several parks next to the water. Cambridge University was beautiful, and it’s amazing to me that many of the colleges have been around since before 1600 (though many of the physical buildings have been updated since then). The first picture below is of King’s College, one of the many colleges that make up Cambridge University.
My only disappointment was that the majority of the schools with beautiful architecture were closed to the public, so I could only admire them from the outside. On one hand, as a selfish tourist, I wish they would have been open. On the other hand, I can appreciate reserving these spaces for the people who use them on a daily basis. Not everything has to be a tourist attraction.
After a late lunch and cafe stop, I made my way back to Chelmsford, satisfied with my quick visit to Cambridge.
Independence Day Festivities
I arrived back in the US just in time to celebrate the 4th of July. For our first activity of the day, Jaron and I took the train over to Citi Field to watch the Mets take on the Yankees as a part of the Subway Series rivalry.
I’ve been to a fair share of good baseball games in my life, and this one was up there. Back to back Yankees homeruns in the first two at bats of the game (one being an Aaron Judge HR), followed by a Juan Soto two run shot in the bottom of the first, followed by 4 more homers throughout the game. The Yankees looked like they’d take it in the middle of the game, but the Mets rallied late and won 6-5.
A rivalry game, a homerun shootout, a Mets win (alternatively read as a Yankees loss, which I get even more joy from), and a new stadium all on a perfect bluebird day? Hard to beat a game like that.
After the game, we took the train south to Chinatown to grab some dinner before ending the evening watching the largest 4th of July fireworks show in the country over the Brooklyn Bridge. (Somehow I’ve really been in the right place at the right time this past year when it comes to fireworks. I’ve managed to see two of the biggest and best fireworks shows in the world on two completely opposite ends of the globe.)
Although Independence Day was closely preceded by some extremely disheartening governmental decisions, a classic American 4th of July was a nice welcome back to the country I call home and reminded me of many of the aspects I do really love about the United States.
Wandering and Eating
Most of the rest of my days in NYC were spent walking around Manhattan and eating delicious food with Jaron and Elise, getting a personalized tour of many of their favorites. One of my favorite things about cities like New York is that you can get food from every corner of the world within half an hour of home. One of my least favorite things is that the food from other parts of the world is exorbitantly more expensive than getting the same food in those other countries, but that’s a price I’ll have to live with.
That said, that price allowed me to have khao soi (one of my top 3 from Thailand), noodles and dumplings, fried chicken, moussaka (one of my top 3 from Greece), a proper New York bagel sandwich, and a few slices of New York style pizza all in the span of four days. My stomach and wallet weren’t the happiest, but my soul sure was.
REFLECTIONS
I’m now realizing this newsletter is already far longer than I planned it to be. Given I won’t have many activities to write about next time, I’ll save the reflections for the next one 🙂
NEXT UP
Last Sunday, I took my final flight back to Washington, and I am now officially back for the summer! I’ve been settling back in with a lot of cycling, some running, unpacking and a few side projects that I’ve wanted to spend time on for a while.
These newsletters have served primarily as a way of keeping you all up to date with where I am and track my own travels. Now that I’m home for the next few months, there won’t be nearly as much to share in regard to what I’m up to. I’m not entirely certain what that means for newsletters going forward.
At a minimum, the structure will change. In all likelihood, the frequency will decrease as well (as has been the trend recently anyway). I do still think that I’d like to continue these in some shape or form, I just have to figure out what that looks like. So stay tuned for some potentially experimental content.
That’s the next few months, however, I’ve previously hinted at phase three of my trip later down the line.
Come late September, I’ll head over to Spain for my best friend’s wedding. Post wedding, I’ll stick around and spend 6-7 weeks on a bicycle tour around Spain, a touch of France, and Portugal. I’m undecided on how I want to present the content for that trip as well, but you can expect some type of regular update throughout.
Anyway, that’s that on that. Thank you for being a part of this wild year, and I hope you’ll continue to stick around. If you’ve got anything you’d like to know more about, I’m happy to share.
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 soon.
– Trevor