Thank you to Jessie Kwak of www.bicitoro.wordpress.com for contributing as the May 15th Travel Instigator. Stay tuned for a new feature on the 15th and 30th of each month from a new adventurous traveler.

The travel bug bit me early. We can blame my parents, who bravely trundled my sister and I along on road trips, camping trips and even to Venezuela almost as soon as we could walk. I eagerly embraced study abroad programs in university, and had trouble staying in country for more than 18 months at a time after I graduated.

Seattle Skyline (photograph by Beth Yost)

Lately, life circumstances have meant that I can’t just jaunt down to South America at the drop of a hat. When waiting tables I could take 6 months off no problem and know that I’d be able to talk my way back into a job when I got back to town, completely broke. Somehow I don’t think that’s going to work as well with an “adult” desk job. I mean, paid vacation is awesome, but I hear they want you to come back after your two weeks is up. Seriously.

I’ve always been the kind of traveler that spends a lot of time in one place, rather than trying to fill up a backpacker’s bingo card of destinations. When I returned solo to Venezuela in 2006, I had intended to backpack through the whole country for two months. I accidentally acquired a job in the tiniest little border town in the Gran Sabana, however, and spent six months in the same village. When I got home people asked me about Angel Falls, Los Roques, the beach. I’d seen none of those things, but I wouldn’t trade the friendships I made in Sta Elena for all the tourist hotspots in the country.

In a way, that’s what I’m doing now. My husband and I are putting down some tentative roots in the quirky strange enclave of “Georgetown, Seattle, WA,” and I’m trying my best to explore like a local.

What I miss about being on the road, however, is the way that I react to travel. The way my senses open up, and my curiosity is piqued by everything. Nothing is ugly when you’re traveling, nothing is boring, nothing is mundane. But when you’re putting down roots? It can be easy to let your sense of curiosity dull. I’ve found that at home I’m much less likely to ask “Hey, what’s that? Where does that road go? What does this taste like? Who is that person over there?” Familiarity with your surroundings can act like a pair of blinders, and it can be hard to keep your explorer’s mind limber.

Take a tour

I always cringed at the idea of joining a tour group when traveling. Being herded along with a group of camera-happy tourists twice my age is not my idea of a good time. A few months ago, however, I joined up with a tour put on by (http://localistseattle.wordpress.com) Localist Seattle, a tour company that specializes in planning personalized tours. This tour was of my neighborhood and promised Beer, History and Art. I was so in.

So on a sunny Saturday in March, my husband and I joined with a group of camera-happy tourists twice our age to learn about the buildings we walked by every day. I met my neighbors, and learned that the street I live on used to be lined with roadhouses during the Prohibition where upright Seattleites would come party. How cool is that?

That got me delving deeper into what types of tours are put on in Seattle. Sure there’s the Underground Tour, and the tour of Pike’s Place Market, but there are also groups putting quirky tours of haunted houses and grunge history landmarks, and there’s even a Georgetown Haunted History Tour put on every October with locals acting out scenes at Georgetown’s ghost hotspots. Cheesy? Sure. But it’s still a cool way to stay curious about your city.

Get on your bike and ride

One of my favorite ways to explore is through cycling. I commute by bike to work at least 3 days a week (barring hail storms and pouring rain), and it’s my main form of transportation for getting around town, too.

Traveling by bike forces me to take routes that are off the beaten path, which in turn has introduced me to parts of Seattle that I never would have run across otherwise. Driving on the highway might get me there faster, but if I slow down and find an alternate way to bike to my destination I always run across something new, whether it’s stopping in a cool foreign market for sausages on my way to a barbecue or just pulling over to photograph a neat old building.

When I’m traveling I’ll walk for hours just to see what I might run across. As a local, my cycling equivalent is to always work to discover new routes, new links between neighborhoods, new alleyways, new destinations.

Talk to the locals

There’s something about traveling that breaks me out of my introvert’s shell. Whether it’s drinking on the hostel patio or chatting with an unidentifiable-foods vendor in a local market, I’m constantly surprised by how much more open I am to making conversation with strangers when I travel.

Baker Lake Trail (WA)

Back at home, however, I often go about my day with blinders on. Seattleites are notorious for keeping to themselves, but my hesitation to invade my neighbors’ privacy often keeps me from making new friends and learning about my world. To that end I’ve made a resolution to treat my casual interactions in Seattle the same way I would in another country. After all, you never know who you might meet.

Make time to explore

My weekends all too frequently get eaten up by to do lists and chores. With so many irons in the fire it seems wasteful to do what I used to do when I first moved to Seattle—just hop on a bus to see where it goes, then spend a few hours wandering through a new neighborhood.

Don’t forget to treat regular trips like an adventure. Going to catch a show at your favorite venue? Instead of driving from your house to the adjacent parking lot, having a drink in the venue bar and then going straight home once the music’s over, try leaving early and taking the bus, riding your bike, or even just parking a dozen blocks away and wandering through the streets like you would do in a new city. Don’t forget to stop in that Assyrian Market that has always intrigued you. Don’t forget to talk to the guy behind the counter and ask about a weird product you’ve never seen before. Don’t forget to read historical plaques and take snapshots of cool architecture.

Don’t forget to have fun.

What to Read More From Jessie?

Jessie Kwak

Jessie Kwak is a Seattle-based writer who’s always looking for her next adventure. She especially likes ones that involve exploring cities, camping, discovering new and tasty brew pubs, and cycling. Together with her photographer husband she traveled through Peru and blogged about it at www.unpavedsouthamerica.com, although lately she’s been ranging a little closer to home and pursuing her adventures on two wheels. These days you can find her on her bicycling and crafting blog, www.bicitoro.wordpress.com and on Twitter (@jkwak).

Thank you to Tawny Clark of Captain & Clark for contributing as the April 30th Travel Instigator. Stay tuned for a new feature on the 15th and 30th of each month from a new adventurous traveler.

We recently realized that while we have videos from various nooks and crannies of the world, we have little on our beautiful and diverse hometown of Seattle, Washington. Being the birthplace of Starbucks, Seattle is notorious for its coffee culture. Take a peek as we step inside the world’s first Starbucks, the legendary Pikes Place Market, and stand under one of the state’s largest erections. We’re talking about the Space Needle… obviously.

We hope you enjoy our small virtual tour of one of the greatest cities in the world. Trust us, we’re not biased.

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A big thanks to Rachel Tavel of  Travel with Tavel for contributing the following post as the April 15th Travel Instigator. Stay tuned for a feature post and Q and A from a new adventurous female traveler the 15th and 30th of every month.

It started when the flight attendants sprayed the overhead compartments on the airplane. I knew we were going somewhere different, somewhere delicate, somewhere barely touched… They sprayed our luggage to make sure we wouldn’t bring any foreign species onto the islands, which began to seem more like a fragile sick person than a beaming cluster of endemic life. I could tell this wasn’t going to be like other trips I had been on. Spending five days and four nights on a luxury catamaran in the Galapagos Islands was going to be special. That, I knew.

The Galapagos Islands

In the months leading up to this trip, it seemed like everyone who traveled to the Galapagos Islands had taken some sort of vow of secrecy. Friends who had gone would give me short responses when asked to describe the experience. They’d say, in one quick shot, “It was AMAZING,” or “You have to try and go before you leave.” My six-month stint working as a travel writer in Quito, Ecuador was coming to an end, and I was beginning to realize that this might be my only chance to ever visit the Galapagos. Despite hearing from several coworkers who had visited, and the author of the Galapagos guidebook, which I was copyediting, I couldn’t get a grasp of what visiting the islands was really like.

Photo taken by Rachel Tavel

I had seen photos here and there, but nobody wanted to give anything away. My French friend Clemence refused to show me any photographs before I left. She told me, “I don’t want to ruin it; you have to go and find out what it’s like for yourself.” I was running out of time in Ecuador and my strategy to wait for a last-minute deal wasn’t working, so I began to make moves to ensure a trip would happen. Even if I ended up paying over a thousand dollars (standard) for only three days on a shitty boat, and puking my brains out from seasickness, I wanted to know what the secret was; I wanted to be a part of the less than 160,000 people who are permitted on the island annually, and I wanted to understand what it was about the Galapagos Islands that nobody seemed to be able to describe. But the deal I was waiting for never seemed to come.

I began trying to accept that maybe this final adventure in Ecuador wouldn’t pan out. Yet, a part of me was unconvinced. I had to go. During my lunch break on the last day at my job, I headed to a travel agency as a last resort. I walked in, credit card in hand, ready to reserve my place on a four day, three night cruise. The ship was given two out of five stars and looked like a red tug-boat just waiting to retire. It didn’t feel right, but the islands were calling me… I had to get to the Galapagos anyway that I could.

Photo by Rachel Tavel: The Nina on the Galapagos Islands

As I sat at the travel agent’s desk, holding the cruise pamphlet, clinging to my credit card, something in my gut told me not to pull the trigger. It was 1pm, and the cruise was leaving the next day, so the agent told me I had to make a decision by 6 pm to get onto the 10am flight. I told him I would wait out the afternoon and see if the deal I was desperately waiting for cropped up. If it didn’t, I’d come back after work and book the trip.

At 4:30 pm, thirty minutes before I was to purchase tickets for the crappy cruise, I got the email I had been waiting an entire month for: there was a spot on The Nina — the #1, nicest, most luxurious boat in the Galapagos Islands — and I was going to be able to get on the 5 day, 4 night cruise, which usually costs $2,700, for less pennies in exchange for writing/translating sales brochure’s for the company upon my return. It was unbelievable, unreal… This was the best of the best. I was going!

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A big thanks to Laura Nazimiec of Go Mexico Guide for contributing the following post as the March 30th Travel Instigator. Stay tuned for a feature post and Q and A from a new adventurous female traveler the 15th and 30th of every month.

You may be surprised when I tell you that my favorite place to spend a Sunday morning in Mexico City is along the Paseo de la Reforma, the city’s normally traffic-clogged main thoroughfare.

This is a roadway that sees tens of thousands of vehicles on an average day, in a city where pedestrians and cyclists are rarely afforded the right of way.

After a long week of sitting in traffic, fighting for standing room on the Metro and trying to cross the street as impatient motorists stop within inches of my thigh, you’d think a busy boulevard would be the last place I’d want to spend my weekend and normally you’d be right.

But on Sundays, all of that changes.

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A big thanks to Lindsey of Vacations by Lindsey for contributing the following post as the March 15th Travel Instigator. Stay tuned for a feature post and Q and A from a new adventurous female traveler the 15th and 30th of every month.

(Cannes Film Festival - Opening night for "Taking Woodstock")

I realized just how much I wanted to work in the travel industry during a study abroad trip after my sophomore year of college. I packed my bags for a month on the French Riviera at the Cannes Film Festival, hoping to be discovered for my lack of acting talent.

If you’re not familiar with the Cannes Film Festival, you should know that there are certain levels of badges. There’s the I’m-So-Famous-You-Don’t-Need-To-See-My-Badge. There’s the Market Badge, which gets semi-important people into most of the screenings. Then there’s the Cinephile Badge, which I was given.  While most people think the word “cinephile” means movie lover, in French it actually translates to, “You cannot get into this screening, stupide. It is not possible.”

The badge also means you have to take any means necessary to find your own tickets. So, I joined my group of 25 peers on the Croisette with hand-written signs that begged, “Une billet, s’il vous plaît?”. Translated, that means: “One ticket, please.” However, many French men misunderstood this for, “Of course I would love receive payment as your personal escort this evening!”

The first ticket I obtained was by accident: as I leaned down to pick up the sign that I’d dropped, the wind blew my dress up. By the time I composed myself and turned around, an eager guy was holding out une billet to the world premiere of Disney’s Up. The irony that I received a ticket to a children’s movie by flashing someone is not beyond me.

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