Posted by Elizabeth

I’m planning an April trip to Europe, which will involve two and a half weeks sampling the cuisine of Italy, staying on a family farm in Slovenia, and island-hopping through Croatia.   This trip was rather spur of the moment – when I found out I was pregnant, I insisted we take a final trip as a childless couple, and I knew exactly where I wanted to go.  After cashing in all of the miles we earned on our round-the-world trip last year, netting us two round-trip tickets to Rome, the planning began in earnest.  Soon I found myself doing what I do best:  pouring over Lonely Planet guidebooks, calling friends who had traveled in this part of the world, deciphering Italian train schedules (impossible), comparing ferry routes, checking the weather, and memorizing the food section of the Italian phrasebook.  The irony is that I embarked on all of this planning knowing full well that the best experiences of this trip will be those I never plan.

How do I know this?  First, because I’ve had the good fortune of traveling a fair amount, this is always the case (except, of course, when you show up without reservations in Lovina, Bali, during the Ramadan holiday, where the entire population of Muslim Indonesia is vacationing).  And second, because I agree with a recent article I read on maximizing happy coincidences while traveling, which states that “accidents — good and bad — happen when we’re away. More so, maybe, because there’s a certain randomness about travel — a sense that the unexpected can happen.”  The article argues that it’s easy to focus on the bad accidents – getting fined for not understanding how a foreign toll road works, getting scammed for five Euros, misunderstanding movie schedules, shadowy rodents running through train cars in India (all of which have happened to me, by the way).  But the flip side is that, for every bad accident, there is usually a good one, and these are what make travel – and life itself – fun and interesting.  And it’s this duality that explains the reason I love – and loathe – traveling.  I am an accidental tourist in sheep’s clothing, a planner by nature who loves the idea of traveling spontaneously, but who fights it tooth and nail.  So how can we maximize happy coincidences – both in travel and in everyday life? According to the article there are four ways to do this — and I bet our bright readers can find even more.

The fabulous mansion in Buenos Aires, before it was not-so-fabulous.

First, realize that “sometimes, bad accidents can lead to good things.”  While traveling in Buenos Aires, we had the good fortune of staying in a gorgeous old mansion in the heart of the city, which catered to long-term travelers.  Sure, the accommodations were a little rustic, but we loved the vibe of this place so much that we arranged to stay an extended period after a brief jaunt to Uruguay.  The night before we departed for Uruguay, the owner informed us that he had made a mistake with the reservation, and that our room wouldn’t be available upon our return.  (Insert “not my problem” shoulder shrug here.)  Being the peak of high season, we unsuccessfully scrambled to find other accommodations at the 11^th hour (literally), finally resigning ourselves to dealing with it when we returned.  The problem was, we had just bought a boatload of leather goods hours earlier, which we had planned to stash in the mansion while we were in Uruguay.  Desperate, we called a friend of my mother-in-law, who had told us to call him if we needed help.  Not only did he store my boots and purses while we were away, he also offered us to stay at his gorgeous high-rise apartment in the heart of the swanky Recoleta neighborhood upon our return, where we had access to real air conditioning and a bathtub.  In this case, a bad accident lead to a very good thing.

A very memorable afternoon.

The article also advises to “be open to new experiences.”  This, in my mind, is one of the cardinal rules of travel (and life).  On our trip we traveled into the heart of Portugal’s Duoro Valley, the seat of the country’s port wine production.  We nosed our rental car down dusty lanes in search of the area’s new museum, only to find it closed when we arrived.  Disappointed, we began our long drive back to town when Maikael spotted a car parked outside a neighboring property that hadn’t been there when we arrived.  “I’m going to see if they know anything about the museum,” said Maikael, hopping out the car as I slumped in the front seat.  After a few minutes, I glanced in the rear view mirror to see Maikael standing next to a weathered old man, a silly grin slapped on his face, beckoning me with swooping arm motions.  While the old man – who owned the surrounding vineyard – called his neighbor to open the museum, he invited us to wait with him and his friends.  For the next hour we propped ourselves on ancient farm equipment and shared glasses of syrupy moscatel wine, talking life in our passable Sportugese.  What could have been a forgettable experience was one of the most memorable afternoons of our entire trip…one that never would have transpired had we been unwilling to take the leap out of our car and into a new experience.

Worth the diversion.

Adjust your perspective. Sometimes, the direst situations end up being fortuitous, if we can just look at the world through a different lens.  After hearing horror stories about traveling in India I wasn’t sure I wanted to go anymore, even though we had planned to spend three weeks traversing the northern part of the country.  Looking for alternative plans, we discovered that Bhutan – a country I had recently become enchanted with – was only a short plane ride from Delhi, where our ticket had already routed us (and when in life is Bhutan ever going to be a short plane ride from anywhere?).  After making some last-minute adjustments to our itinerary, we cut our time in India in half and planned a side trip to Bhutan, a highlight of our entire eight-month journey.  Looking back, I can’t imagine that trip without Bhutan, and our willingness to change plans midstream and craft a bad situation into a good one made it possible.

Timing is everything. Is there any greater truism?  One scorching August day, we found ourselves in need of transportation from Pamukkale to Goreme, Turkey, a long, dusty ride that required a few bus transfers and an expensive ticket at the height of tourist season.  As we investigated different bus companies around town, the schedules were quickly filling (or so they told us) and the ticket prices were rising with the mercury outside.   We were getting desperate when we stumbled into a tourist agency that, upon telling them the date and time we were interested in departing, exclaimed, “You’re in luck!  We have a bus that needs to be returned to Goreme that evening.  It will travel direct to the town, no stops, and the tickets are half price.”  It seemed too good to be true, but after discussing our options and gaining some assurances, we bought the tickets.  Sure, this happy coincidence could have easily turned into a bad accident, but as promised, because we were in the right place at the right time – and willing to take a calculated leap of faith – we scored cheap tickets on a direct bus that was roomier than any of the other companies’.

Us and our Croatian friends at Sintra

Of course there are lots of other happy coincidences I could share with you, from the amazing steakhouse we discovered in Buenos Aires vis a vis NPR’s Bob Mondello, to the unforgettable hotel we stumbled upon in Ubud, Bali, because we waited until the last minute and it was the only reservation request that anybody responded to.  But I’ll leave you with a final example of a happy coincidence.  While staying at a hostel in Lisbon, Portugal, we found ourselves in the lobby one evening, trying to decode the mysteries of the Portuguese train schedule that was mounted to the wall.  As our fingers etched the route from Lisbon to Sintra, a nearby historic town, another couple approached from the back, commenting that they were planning on taking the same trip the next morning.  After chatting for a few minutes and sizing one another up, we quickly decided to travel together the next day, and what I remember from that experience is not the gorgeous Moorish town but spending a wonderful day together with a fantastic couple from Croatia.  Anton, the husband, had been to Sintra before and expertly played tour guide.  We laughed and joked and shared stories from our countries over a rustic Portuguese lunch.  And when we go to Croatia in April, we will visit our “happy coincidence” friends on their tiny island of Krk.

Am I going to stop planning? Probably not.  But if I can plan with the expectation that I’ll throw those plans out the moment something better comes along, I’ll be the better for it.

Are you an “accidental tourist” (or not)?  What are some of the happiest coincidences you can recall while traveling?  What are other ways that we can maximize “happy coincidences” – both in travel and in life?