People have all sorts of reasons for traveling.
You may do it for the sightseeing. Or the cuisine. To delve into a different culture, or to check a location off your bucket list.
You might go for the sunshine and palm trees. Or the snow-capped mountains. Maybe it’s a region’s activities that call to you — snorkeling, scuba diving, rock climbing, hiking, shopping.
Yes, shopping counts.
And all those reasons are great. They are part of my “why,” as well.
But what I’m really in it for — the thing that gets me out the door — is my morning coffee.
Specifically, that first sip, and the idea of taking it in a new place.
This is what I dream about with every destination I research, every plane ticket I purchase, every Airbnb reservation I make.
Waking up, walking outside holding a mug of strong, hot brew and tipping it to my lips while standing on a porch, a balcony, a front stoop or a sidewalk not my own.
It’s a small thing, but I take it very seriously — and it looms large in my mind at all times.
Whenever I feel restless — as I do often, particularly lately — this is what keeps me occupied.
Where do I want to have that next cup?
Granted, it doesn’t always pan out as perfectly as I imagine.
On my river cruise in Portugal, it was too windy and cold every day to stay out on deck for much longer than a minute.
In Manuel Antonio, Costa Rica, that first sip came with about six simultaneous mosquito bites.
And in Tulum, Mexico, my hotel, oddly, offered neither coffee nor vessel in the room — forcing me to go out on my first night there and buy the only mug I could find nearby ($50), from which I had to drink some of the emergency instant I keep in my carry-on the next morning.
But still. It was somewhere new. So it tasted, and felt, delicious.
It’s a moment I prefer to savor on my own, and if I’m not traveling solo I’ll wake as early as necessary to make it happen.
Luckily, I tend to rise with the sun on vacation anyway.
I recently decided to spend Thanksgiving in Hawaii with my best friend Lacey — along with her husband and four kids — so I may have to actually set an alarm on this trip in order to beat the mob to the espresso machine.
But make no mistake — if I have to get up at 4 a.m. to do it, I will be standing outside on that Big Island, by my lonesome, a cup of steaming local(!) Kona coffee in my happy little hands, saying “aloha” to my special me time.
(Then probably saying it again very shortly thereafter, since it also means “goodbye.”)
Regardless of how long it lasts, it’ll be worth every one of the 4,600 miles it took to get there.
Happy travels, all — wherever and why-ever they take you.
Katie Long McDowell is the managing editor and lifestyles editor for The Dominion Post. Email kmcdowell@dominionpost.com
