Psycho-Travel

I like to consider myself a moderately adventurous person. 

Pour that tray of slimy oysters down my throat? Sure, why not?

Paraglide off the Alps? Hell yeah!

Sell everything I own and move across the country without any job or prospects? Might as well... I've got nothing better to do.

Drop acid with the one-eyed hobo? Just kidding. Everyone knows I like my drug-dealing hobos to have two eyes... at least!

But I think the truth of the matter is, I'm really not very adventurous at all. I came to realize this as we were preparing for our weddingmoon last year, and then I was forced to acknowledge it again today as I made reservations for our little anniversary weekend getaway.

So, for example, last year I became obsessed with researching every city, hotel, venue, cafe, you-name-it that we were planning on visiting while in Europe. I wanted to know everything about everything. I really don't know why? Maybe because I was just excited... I wanted to learn as much as I could, because the more I learned, the more excited I became about what to expect. 

Okay, so perhaps that's a bad example, because most travellers will want to do a bit of research before they go to a foreign country. But something tells me that I tend to go a little over the top. 

It seems that when I know that we're gong away somewhere new, the internet instantly becomes this vast playground which feeds my ever-growing obsession to know more and more and more with each Google search.

Here's a better example... before I went back to Toronto a couple years ago, I researched the oyster bar my friend was taking us to.  I heard that it was the best in the city, and so I wanted to confirm. Not that I'd scoff at her if it wasn't... although you probably don't want to be taking any chances with oysters. Yeesh...

So anyway, once I knew where we were going, I'm sure that I probably visited every page on Rodney's website at least twice. I wanted to know the history. I wanted to see photographs of the interior. I wanted to know what my oyster options would be. I wanted to check out the full menu. I wanted to find out the prices. I think I even tried to locate customer reviews on another couple of sites.

Of course I know that no matter how much research I do, it will never compare to the actual experience of doing something new. Even so, it seems that I try to pack my mind with so many images, reviews and info that it's as if I'm cramming for some kind of pop quiz. 

For example...

Did you know that Kelowna gets more hours of sunshine than any other city in Canada? 

Yup. That's a little factoid I picked up (and recited countless times) before moving out west. It was one of the things that totally sold me on the Okanagan.

Here's another...

Did you also know that there is (or at least there use to be in 2002/2003) a cap on how tall buildings in Kelowna could be built? 

That's actually a little tidbit that I misread while obsessively researching this city. The way it was phrased, I thought "building restrictions cap" might be an environmental term which meant that the city wasn't allowed to sprawl any further with new subdivisions - which was in fact another selling point to me at the time. I was excited to escape the GTA's little boxes on the hillside. Little boxes made of ticky tacky. Little boxes, little boxes, little boxes all the same. (Actually,  that's a Pete Seeger song I used to hum to myself on the bus by while watching the sea of little boxes fly by.) Unfortunately, I very wrong in that silly lil' idealist assumption. Urban sprawl restrictions? Ha! So... very... wrong...indeed. :P

Anyhow, I guess I'm saying that any fun or exciting thing I've ever done in my life has been incredibly calculated and researched to death, until I've sucked the adventurousness right out of it. 

Why do I do this to myself? Why can't I just wing it?

It seems the only two things I have ever done spontaneously was jumping off the Alps - and even then, I poured over that brochure at least a dozen times - and then of course there was the time that I dropped acid with that one-eyed hobo. (Again, I'm just kidding about that one-eye hobo thing... or am I? ;) I think it'd make for a very interesting story about how the two of us explored the city in a psychedelic haze, searching for his missing eye. Hmm...)

Anyway, getting back to why I began writing this post in the first place -- like I started saying earlier, I just finished spending about an hour or two researching Harrison Hot Springs. 

Actually, I've been researching and revisiting the same websites over and over again for the last two weeks - but today I finally made reservations. We're both really looking forward to this little escape; however, I admire Jim's approach versus mine. He has barely looked at the websites for either of the two hotels I suggested. I guess he knew that I had already carefully weighed all our options. All he had to do was simply agree that he felt Harrison Hot Springs Resort sounded better than The Executive Hotel, because although it costs a little more, it actually has five private hot spring pools on site, while The Executive only provides day passes to the nearby public hot springs pool down the street. So in the end, it seemed worth the extra cash for the added convenience. 

So now while Jim is quite happy with our decision and really looks forward to checking everything out in person once we get there; myself, on the other hand, am like some kind of neurotic maniac. 

I have already stalked through every page on the resort's website. I have checked out every picture, watched all three virtual tours, reviewed every available package, added services, and their respective prices. 

And then as if that wasn't enough, I went on to check out a couple Harrison tourism websites. I clicked on links for eco tours, adventure tours, hiking, kayaking, wilderness watching, white water rafting, gardens, shopping, weather, arts, festivals and events. 

I also read traveller reviews and compared them with reviews written about other hotels. 

I checked out the menu for the Copper Room, the prices, the dress code and even managed to dig up a video of the band that will be performing, so I'll know what kind of music they play. Then I looked up independent articles and reviews of the restaurant on a couple different food and travel sites. 

I'm sick. It's okay, I can admit it.

But seriously, why can't I just go somewhere and simply enjoy it for what it is once I get there, without obsessing over all the details beforehand? It's like I get so excited that I want to know everything I possibly can, so I'll be aware of all our options.

Is this normal? Because I really feel like I can't be spontaneous. I can never wait n' see. I have to be able to see it, feel it, and imagine how it's going to be. Right. Now.

I swear to gawd, I'm making a pact with myself that the next time Jim n' I go somewhere, I'm going to suck it up and book through Hotwire.com so I won't know what to expect. It will be an adventure... even if it ends up being the HoJo on Granville.

And now, even though it is completely irrelevant, I'm posting this video of Pete Seeger singing "Little Boxes." Because if I have to have this song humming through my head for the rest of the evening, then you should too.  Plus, it's such a cute little ditty.