When I was 10 I was a girl scout. I was in Totem Council 857 and wore a cool, green vest decorated with merit badges earned for things like caroling, selling cookies and camping (in a troop member’s backyard.) While I wasn’t the most motivated scout – I’m pretty sure my grandpa bought most of those cookies – some things did stick with me and are often applied to my life as an expat and traveler. And no, before you get ahead of yourself it’s not the well-known motto Be Prepared (although you have to admit, that is a pretty good motto,) it’s the Girl Scout Law:
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A full passport is every traveler’s dream – until it becomes an immigration nightmare.
“Should I just cover this?” the official taunted, pointing to a haphazardly stamped-up page.
“Okay,” I shrugged.
“No! That is illegal!” he said. So should full-page, gilded, visa-on-arrival stickers, I wanted to shout.
“Look, I don’t know what you want me to do,” I answered calmly.
Angkor Wat Temple at night
My husband, Matt, and I had been traveling for 13 months and had just met up with his family to visit Cambodia’s famed Angkor Wat. Not being allowed a visa would certainly put a damper on the trip.
“You must pay fine over there,” the official instructed.
Matt and I headed to the designated counter while his family stood by and waited; he ducked under the line first and I followed suit. Right leg under, dip and – RIP! – Oh God! What panties was I wearing?! I reached my right hand around to assess the damage.
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I am guilty of this, and I’m guessing you are too. I pack too much stuff. Over the years and trips I’ve gotten better – my personal best being a school-sized backpack for a 2-week jaunt to India – but there is always room for improvement.
Enter Rick Steves’ Travel Festival. Among the location specific travel classes was one of my favorite travel topics, packing: Packing Light and Right with Joan Robinson, a tour guide with 14+ years of experience. I was all over it.
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The free tour would be leaving in two hours. Masters at killing time by this point we headed toward a small gift shop. I got in line to buy a postcard for our niece; it was made of fabric and could be sewn into a penguin. I gave the check out lady 5 dollars; she gave me 80 New Taiwan dollars back.
We wandered down a wide, empty hallway and found the waiting room. At 8:15 a.m. a man entered holding a clipboard. He looked at it. He looked at us. He looked at the clipboard again, “Laura and Matt?” he asked. We were the only people in the room, “Yes,” we answered, standing up. “Okay, come on,” he said and spun around toward the doors. We followed him to the bus. We were prepared to be the only passengers, but a quick stop at Terminal 1 changed this. Now we were three. A brief run down of our destination followed the acquisition, “Welcome to Taiwan. We go now to Yingge for pottery. There is a nice street for walking and looking at the pottery.”
The drizzly drive went quickly after some getting to know you chat with our tour-mate. He was from Germany; we envied his 3 o’clock departure time.
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