Being Bourdain
When I think about dream jobs and what would make me the happiest- I honestly think getting paid to travel, eat, and bask in beauty of all kinds would top my list. I thrive in an environment where I poke around and figure things out. I live to help people avoid making the same mistakes I did, and emphasize the things they shouldn’t miss. That brings me so much joy. I don’t know if that will only be in the form of my hobby blog, but if we’re dreaming- it might include a travel show, podcast, memoir on this madness of mine, children’s books that inspire families to hit the road and explore together, or a mixed use venue that fills all the gaps my passion for hospitality has uncovered. As a collector of cool, the photos and stories I share with family and friends over cocktails are my favorite curation. When news broke that Anthony Bourdain had committed suicide, I know I was not alone in thinking how could that man have felt he had nothing to live for? He was living THE DREAM, it was unfathomable.
I was riding a high, happy and earnest when I arrived at an amazing Art Deco theatre to watch Roadrunner, the new Anthony Bourdain documentary. I am a big fan- I’ve read the books, seen the shows, caught his tour through Nashville, and I took it pretty hard when he committed suicide. I had heard mixed reviews on the film, but something told me I needed to go, especially at this stage in my life. I expected it to be heavy and it made me nervous to ruin the feelings of goodwill and optimism I had found wandering around the Bay Area. My eyes welled with tears alone in a tiny old art deco theater in Sacramento when a familiar Bourdain voiceover began. After watching Roadrunner, the picture is a little clearer. I held those tears back through the movie until I made it outside and sat by a fountain surrounded by lush greenery, neon lights, and the palpable energy of the people. I was in a community of strangers that also admired what Tony brought to the table and felt fresh pain of the loss. He wasn’t just a chef and travel guide- he was a guru of all kinds. Quick to share not only his sharp wit, but his observations, lessons learned, misconceptions corrected on the road, stories of real people and life. He was so open and honest for a guy you’d expect to be reserved and closed off. He felt like a favorite uncle sharing stories and tall tales over beers on the sofa. He was living the dream- eating and seeing. You knew he had his demons, and the life he was living wasn’t all rainbows, butterflies, and scripted sound bites. But it was clear that he knew how lucky he was and was making the most of the gifts he’d been given and the fruits of his labor. It was hard to imagine downsides to this wild rollercoaster of a life he’d stumbled upon. The documentary put into stark focus how isolating and lonely this full time nomadic lifestyle was for a man who simply wanted to feel normal and needed a person rather than a place to call home. The isolation of fame and living out of his suitcase had long ago lost its luster, and after finding and losing his safe harbor he couldn’t carry on. For a man who had the world at his fingertips, he just wanted to make one person the center of his. When she no longer felt the same, he couldn’t cope. I think we’ve all experienced heartbreak, travel fatigue and loneliness on the road- but I think I can see now that after 20 years on the go, 2 divorces, and losing the light he’d so desperately needed, the darkness got too deep. I had wondered about the name of the film, but after seeing it, it was clear. Running through the world full tilt with demons on your tail is bound to produce some dramatic near death experiences, and you can’t win them all.
Yes travel is exciting because of the things you get to see, do, and eat- but if you really take the time to engage with locals it becomes a life changing experience instead of just a hyper-realistic VR highlight reel. I like to think I embrace the expansion of my heart by these people rather than wallowing in the weirdness and isolation of the other time alone on the road. Locals will teach you so much, share hidden gems, steer you in the right direction, and help you prioritize your wishlist. But sit and talk about more than what you should do in their town and share about your lives, values, and struggles… and what you imprint upon each other will create a ripple effect you’ll carry with you long after you leave. I absolutely love researching and finding the best gems a destination has to offer, but local suggestions ALWAYS yield surprises that top my list of favorites. Sometimes the people I meet are better than anything I encountered on my explorations. Sometimes the combination is as intoxicating as the local brews. I’m fairly friendly and outgoing, it isn’t hard for me to chat up someone and pick their brain on the coolest shit to do while I’m blowing through their town.
I’ve made plenty of casual connections sitting and chatting at a bar, but sometimes you meet people that open your heart and recalibrate your settings in ways you could never have expected. Taking the open seat beside sweet Debby B. at a restaurant recommended by the front desk rep at my crappy last minute motel rocked my world. Debby introduced me to beautiful, delicious, and magical things when she picked me up to for Ollalaberry pastries at Linn’s Fruit Bin, squired me around Hearst Castle, used her photography skills to snap and share some of the most beautiful places in the sleepy coastal town I’d never planned to stop in. We talked about life in her convertible flying past the sights and I opened up in ways I couldn’t have ever anticipated. She was like the big sister I never knew I needed. She’d seen and done so much, had wonderful insight, and fantastic advice. I fell in love with that stretch of Highway 1 and it was the first place I had to re-visit when I hit California again 2 years later for a wedding. It broke my heart that she was traveling and we couldn’t reconnect, she’s just as big of a draw as the sleepy seaside town itself. She’s been one of my biggest cheerleaders on this crazy adventure of mine, and she and Cambria remain on my wishlist whenever I make it to this wonderland of California coast.
Sacramento is the first time petting someone’s dog has gotten me a tour guide to curate the perfect mix of activities and attractions. Sharing about each other I got recommendations that spoke to the things I love and opened me up to seeing more of the things he did. Chris T. and his sweet dog Benji are true characters with incredible stories. My new friend has been around the world a couple times and climbed the tallest mountains in all fifty states. He’s done wild and crazy things that put my exploits to shame and it expanded my horizons in serendipitous ways. Drive in movies? Mural tours? Breweries and board games? Trivia tournaments? Yes, yes and yes. But he also got me on one of those evil scooters and experienced Sacramento as it should be. Despite a wrecked finger, broken toes, and an aversion to bikes since the training wheels came off… I did it for the first (and likely last) but wonderful time. At his suggestion I drove hours up the coast and captured that elusive mix of cypress, redwoods, and ocean air that I thought was unique to Big Sur. Deep breaths of that elixir resets my brain, drops my blood pressure, and reboots my system on a much happier wavelength. I found big trees, expansive views, and the peace and inspiration I look for in every destination I visit. I also got to spend time with someone who was obviously but not obnoxiously smarter, more put together, and even more adventurous than I am. It kept me on my toes in ways that I haven’t experienced much outside of a board room. I have plenty of people to look up to in my life, but this British ginger was full of fire and challenge, and I couldn’t help but hope to take some of that with me when I go. Sacramento wasn’t ever a place on my vision board- but a paid house sit that came with a car and proximity to some other towns and friends I was more interested in visiting made me pull the trigger.
These house sits have brought the most incredible new friends (equal parts two and four legged) into my life. We spend quality time getting to know each other. Sure we share a passion for travel and adventure, and we are nurturing/caring/helpful people at heart- but I feel so blessed that they’ve all entered my world and made it so much bigger. I like to think that’s how Anthony felt as a citizen of the world. Each fixer and guide in every destination- a new friend, expert, therapist, and safe place to land out on the road. The people I’ve met, the places I’ve been, the friends I’m visiting- it’s all rapidly making this a favorite stop on this journey. I also know it’s helping turn me into the best version of myself. I can’t begin to imagine how it would feel on a global scale, with a much larger budget, enormous platform for change, and without those pesky fears a single Asian woman traveling alone totes around like an extra piece of luggage.
Travel changes a person. That exposure to other cultures and ideologies creates fissures that are sometimes hard to fill. You’re no longer the same person dragging that suitcase back into the house as the person that left with it. It IS difficult to live and experience so much with so few people to commiserate with. Being a global citizen provides a sense of freedom and adventure for some, and for others being untethered is disorienting and overwhelming. The same person can feel both sides of that coin, sometimes on the same day in the same place. I think a strong sense of home works for some people and keeps the wandering from feeling aimless. Someone or somewhere you want to “come home to” provides respite. Luckily there isn’t one specific address or heart I need to return to for rest. I have beloved safe spaces scattered around the globe and it makes me feel strong and capable enough to keep going. There is always someone within a few hours that I can turn to when the load starts getting too hard to carry and I need a break from the rigors of the road. Tony had the whole world at his fingertips, but no way to unplug and just be himself. He had to be ANTHONY freakin’ BOURDAIN all the time, and someone always wanted something from him. It’s even harder to meet real people that care about you for you. Perhaps Tony flew too close the sun on all those trips around the world. The reconnections became too infrequent to recuperate and restore. He was clearly a man of strong opinions and convictions, and maybe all those fissures cracked too deep for repair. We’ll never know exactly why he traded living the dream for eternal rest, but Roadrunner definitely helped rather than hurt the memories. Just like the thoughts he shared, Tony still makes you rethink the world and your place in it long after he left it.
