Traveling Light

Last fall, while sailing in the Greek Cyclades, I became intrigued with the island of Naxos.  My fascination had little to do with the island's marquee attractions, such as its Venetian architecture, its ancient Cycladic relics, or its tasty local wine.  Rather, I was intrigued with Naxos because — according to a small detail on my promotional tourist map — it was home to the "Cave of Evil."

Once I arrived on Naxos, however, my queries about the Cave of Evil were met with confusion from the islanders, and a search through my guidebooks yielded no information on an attraction with that name. Still, an official-looking red dot on my tourist map pinpointed a Cave of Evil in the mountainous north of the island, so my travel pal Haidee and I rented a motorcycle in Naxos Town and headed off to find the mysterious (and possibly sinister) cavern.

As we drove north through citrus orchards and vineyards, Haidee and I happened across a string of unexpected attractions: quiet beaches; abandoned Orthodox chapels; a delicious seafood taverna in the gorgeous coastal town of Apolonas. After lunch, we followed dirt roads into the forested mountains, where we met some Naxian shepherds, who invited us into their camp for tea, snacks and a charmingly stilted phrasebook-fueled conversation ("Boriteh na to piteh arga-arga." we kept reminding the herdsmen. "Please talk slowly.")  When we finally found the proper Greek word for "cave" — spileo — the shepherds nodded and pointed us up a rough mountain trail.  Abandoning the motorcycle, Haidee and I explored the marble-studded mountainside on foot for much of the afternoon, spotting peregrine falcons in the sky and small fishing villages along the coast below us. By the time we found a low cavern tucked into the side of a cliff, we'd had such an interesting day that the cave (which didn't seem particularly evil) was something of an anticlimax. After less than ten minutes of spelunking, waning sunlight sent us back down the mountain toward Naxos Town.

In retrospect, I'm not sure if the cavern we discovered was really the Cave of Evil — or even if a Cave of Evil exists on Naxos apart from a red dot on the tourist-board map.   Nevertheless, Haidee and I were happy for the idea of the Cave of Evil, since our ongoing search for it provided us with a great day of random adventure on the Greek island. 

Last month, I was reminded of the Cave of Evil when I read about the media hubbub in the state of Washington, which had just changed its tourism slogan from "Experience Washington" to "Say WA."  Reportedly, the postal-code reference was an attempt to mimic Maine's popular tourism slogan ("See ME") — but Washingtonians were responding to the phrase with a mix of befuddlement and indifference.  Similarly, there was plenty of fuss last year when my home state of Kansas debuted its new tourism slogan. Though Kansas is a state that might have been able to turn heads by using its postal code ("KS My Ass" comes to mind), tourism officials instead unveiled the phrase "As Big As You Think" — which kind of sounds like a Zen koan for people with low self-esteem. Kansans were not impressed.

The thing is, tourism slogans are irrelevant, anyway. Regardless of what Washington tourism officials dream up for a catchphrase, most travelers will continue to visit the state for its usual attractions: the Columbia Gorge; the Olympic Peninsula; Mount Rainier; the urban culture of Seattle. And, regardless of how Kansas officials retool their tourism slogan, most travelers will continue to see the state from the window of their cars as they drive to Colorado.

But, as I learned with the Cave of Evil, the attraction that initially lures you to a place is rarely the thing you remember best when your visit is over. Just as the Cave of Evil was largely an abstraction that led Haidee and me to quiet beaches and a quirky picnic with Greek shepherds, a journey to the Olympic Peninsula (or a road trip across I-70) is only as valuable as the meanderings that result along the way. 

Thus, for any state or national tourism offices looking for inspiration, I offer this humble suggestion:  Add a "Cave of Evil" to your promotional map.  It doesn't matter where you put the red dot, just so long as visitors can find a few distractions along the way.

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TIP SHEET

"A few pointers on choosing where to travel"

1) Don't worry too much about your destination

Remember that you don't ever need a really good reason to go anywhere; rather, go to a place for whatever happens when (and before) you arrive there.

2) Let your travel inspiration be personal

Feel free to tap personal inspiration - no matter how stolid or silly - when considering where to go.  A yen for pork barbecue, for instance, might make you consider visiting Memphis.  Curiosity about your ancestry might call you back to Lebanon, Ireland, or Korea.  Maybe you'll even hit Djibouti simply because mention of this country once made you giggle in junior high geography class.  The most esoteric of interests are a good enough reason to travel someplace. 

3) Don't be too ambitious

The world is a big place, but that doesn't mean you have to pack it all in at once.  A one-week journey is best spent exploring one city (instead of five), and — even given a year — the slow, nuanced experience of a single country is always better than the hurried, superficial experience of forty.  Go slow anywhere, and you'll discover the subtler rhythms of a place.

4) Celebrate the unexpected

Whatever the original motivation for going someplace, remember that you won't always get exactly what you expected — and this is almost always a good thing. 

Next: The Allure of the American Road Trip

Previous: Indie Travel Notebook: A Literary Window on Prague

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