Just another day on the Sbahn, no worries

Berlin is divided into 3 main sections for the sake of public transport tickets: A, B, C.  A is the innermost part, C is the outer part, and B lies in between.  I live near the Wedding stop, right on the cusp of A/B and fantastically close to the Ringbahn.

A - white. B - Light gray. C - medium gray but might as well be blacked out bc you're never going there

It's the line that circles the A region, hitting most of the major stations either directly or by connection -- and runs at nearly all hours of the night, making it infinitely valuable to me. Apparently no one wants to visit Wedding except for Weddingers, and I often find myself wandering around Neukoelln or Friedrichshain trying to find a friend's apartment. Seriously, who designed European streets? Don't even get me started on street numbers. Some streets are numbered from 1-60 going up the street, and suddenly they randomly reverse and go from 61-120 down the other side. Other (unfortunately few, at least where I need to go) streets are numbered in the traditional US fashion, even on one side and odd on the other.

I normally take the Ringbahn home at night, which is an easy trip from the office. A 10 minute walk to the station, then 3 stops on the same train, no change of lines, and I'm practically at my front door. It's about 20 minutes max even if I miss one of the trains and have to wait for the next one. I hear about the commutes of my colleagues who live outside the A/B track and I almost feel guilty for having such an easy one. Berlin is deceptively convoluted and huge when compared to the transport maps, which make everything seem so tidy and linearly connected.  France takes the cake when it comes to complicated city plans but Berlin is still a European city, and its roadways have only been slightly improved by the German tendency towards efficiency.

So, usually my trip home is straightforward, mindless, and relaxing. And then sometimes for seemingly random reasons, the Ringbahn doesn't run like it should. Sometimes there is construction on the line and the train can't run any further than a particular stop. Sometimes it just stops for apparently no reason at all, and the passengers are politely yet coldly informed via intercom "Endstation. Alle aussteigen, bitte." End of the line. Everyone get off, please.

Tonight was one of those nights. At Gesundbrunnen, just one (long) stop away from home, I heard the dreaded phrase Alle ausseigen. Sometimes it's a false alarm and the train continues on its way. I was lagging behind as the other passengers stepped out of the car, hoping that the conductor would realize his mistake and carry me home. So close, yet so far!

A scruffy tattooed man with a beer noticed my hesitation and mumbled gruffly "Der Zug endet hier." The train ends here. Damn. Sure enough, the conductor emerged from his little cabin at the front of the train, making sure that everyone had disembarked before locking the doors. All the passengers and I milled about on the platform, waiting either for instructions about the proper platform to go to or the next train time.

Gesundbrunnen, not the most hospitable place for an unexpected stop

 One particularly belligerent, short man was apparently quite put off by the change and tried to pick a fight with a 20 something German guy. The guy took the bait and got in the short man's face but his girlfriends pulled him away. "Ricki..Ricki, komm!" Ricki slouched away with them in that "Yeah you better be glad my friends are here to stop me" manner that actually means "I am a pussy and wouldn't have done a damn thing, but I'm pretending to be cool because I like this girl." Interesting to note that this trait is not just present in Americans.

A red-haired man went up to a transport worker and asked him something. The worker shook his head, and the man moved on to Ricki's group. I thought he was asking for a cigarette, a commonplace thing here where prices for a pack are sky high ($7). But then I caught the words "Wedding station" and realized he was just asking for directions. The German boy in the group responded "Ja I sink, 2 stations from hier." His tone was clearly condescending.
"Cheers!" the ginger Englishman responded. The girls in the group laughed, mocking his friendly version of "Thanks!"

I went up to the English guy, who was relating the info to his travel buddy, and told him, "Yes, Wedding is on this line. It's the next stop."
He looked relieved. "Cheers! It's the 42? I can take this line?"
"Yep!" I answered.
"Cheers! How do you say 'Is Wedding the next station'?"
"Uhh..Ist die nächste Station Wedding," I responded.
He and his buddy flashed a super huge smiles. "Wow, it's so close to English. Cheers!"

I wandered a few steps away, unwittingly getting closer to the belligerent dude. He was still pissed and started loudly insulting a cluster of German-speaking men who could have been of Indian descent. Yet again one of them took the bait (learning by example is not popular here, apparently) and they exchanged words. All the Germans on the platform looked over with indifferent interest, the same way you start watching trashy reality TV because there is nothing else on but you're bored and hope something interesting might happen.

The same German who had gruffly informed me that der Zug endet hier decided he'd had enough. He made a beeline for Aggressive Dude (AD) and got in his face, speaking quietly in rapid German. I wasn't close enough to hear the words but it reminded me of Cesar Milan when dealing with a particularly stubborn and aggressive dog. The other Germans kept watching with raised eyebrows, no doubt waiting for the other shoe to fly.

Maybe it was that Gruff Dude was about twice the other's height, or maybe his Dog Whisperer tactics worked. Or maybe he was promising to cut Aggressive Dude up worse than a pig in a butcher shop. AD shut his mouth and Gruff Dude walked away, taking a swig from his beer. AD's mouth may have been stopped, but his sour mood continued -- he chucked his empty beer bottle onto the train tracks, its trajectory carrying it just a foot past me so hard that it shattered instantly. Then stalked away, pissed as ever -- but quiet as a lamb. The Germans looked slightly disappointed and resumed their blank German stare into the distance.

The train rumbled up and everyone boarded as if nothing had happened. I made sure to board a car away from AD and headed home without further incident.

Just another day on the S Bahn.

Best Of: Amsterdam Edition

So, I got back from Amsterdam late Sunday night. I had some time on the train (6 hours, give or take) so I jotted down a framework for this post while it was still fresh in my mind.  Also, I'm playing around with picture placement. I thought it might be a nice change from having the same size (large) and position (center). What do you think? Which do you prefer? Leave me a comment and let me know.

Amsterdam is an absolutely beautiful city. It has picturesque streets, canals lined with small boats, and warm little cafes on every corner.  The level of English is amazing. You can literally speak English with just about anyone, and they have a perfect grasp of grammar and barely any accent. Which is a really good thing, because the native Dutch language definitely has to be one of the strangest languages I've heard. Is it German? English? Are they sick and hacking up some mucus mid-sentence? If you aren't a fan of the French "r", you are in for a treat:


So, with that to set the tone.. This is the "Best Of" from my recent trip to Amsterdam.  I actually really like this, so I will try to make it a tradition for every city I visit in the future.  Without further ado..



The "Best of" Amsterdam January 2014

Best Neighborhood: Jordaan

Wiki says:

The Jordaan is a district of the city of Amsterdam in the Netherlands. Originally a working-class neighbourhood, the Jordaan has become one of the most expensive, upscale locations in the Netherlands. It is home to many art galleries, particularly for modern art, and is also dotted with speciality shops and restaurants. Markets are held regularly at Noordermarkt, the Westerstraat (the Lapjesmarkt textile market) and Lindengracht.
Rembrandt spent the last years of his life in the Jordaan, on the Rozengracht canal. He was buried in the Westerkerk church, at the corner of Rozengracht and Prinsengracht, just beyond the Jordaan. The Anne Frank House, where Anne Frank went into hiding during World War II, is located on the edge of the Jordaan, on the Prinsengracht canal.

Personally, I love Jordaan because it's so picturesque and tiny and pristine. Tiny streets and canals,  tiny (beautiful) buildings, and tiny cafes with amazing coffee, beers, and desserts. It's more residential and much less touristy, which means the streets are quiet and calm -- but it's just a short walk away from the busy center. There are far fewer cyclists, so you can walk without fear of hearing the dreaded bike bell two seconds before they run you over.  It reminds me of Sacramento St in Pac Heights/Laurel Heights in San Francisco.

Best Beer: la Chouffe

la Chouffe, actually a Belgian beer. But I tried it for the first time on this trip, so it's going on the blog.  La Chouffe is a blond Belgian beer, and at 8% it's a pretty strong one. It's got a 94% rating on beeradvocate.com, so I'm not the only fan. A review that sums it up much better than I could:

"The beer pours a cloudy apricot color, plenty of sediment floating around the glass with a big, billowy white head, soft and fluffy that has very nice retention and leaves an incredible amount of soapy lace behind. The aroma is inviting, lots of fruity yeast, sweet pale malt, lemongrass and some crisp spice character from both the hops and the coriander. The flavors follow really well, nice fruity yeast flavors, a touch of funkiness, berry and lemon pop nicely, pale grain that is smooth and soft, sweet but not too rustic, but with a earthy assertiveness. A bit of spiciness leads to a crisp finish that has just a faint hint of alcohol. The mouthfeel is superb, super lively carbonation, dances across the tongue while still coating the mouth nicely and gently and finishes easily with just a touch of carbonated zip.

Verdict: A benchmark for the style and a really wonderful beer to drink. It's not overly complex or inventive, but refined and executed impeccably. It's quite refreshing for the ABV and one of the more quaffable Belgian Pale Strong Ale's one can find."

I say: delish.

Best local food: broodje haring

I got my broodje haring (herring sandwich) from a street vendor near the Anne Frank house. From what I can gather from the internets, the raw fish is brined and then slapped on a soft bun with some pickles and raw onions. It looks disgustingly unappetizing. The raw fish is (unsurprisingly) grayish white and pink/red towards the center.  The skin is only partly removed, so patches of it are still clinging to the fish. Bones abound, and sometimes the tail is still on.  If you can get past its less than tasty looks, however, you'll be pleasantly surprised.

The sandwich is served cold, which is good because otherwise the smell would probably be REALLY strong.  The fish tastes pretty mild but pairs well with the sweet pickles and sharp onions.  It was definitely a change from my normal street food in Berlin (doener) but a good one. I even bought some to make a sandwich to eat on the train ride home--in the compartment between cars, of course. There is always "that guy" who brings the smelliest food onto the train, turning the car into a huge Dutch oven for everyone else. No way was I gonna be that guy. 

Best Restaurant: Bazar

with my Italian friend whom I met in
San Fran but who is living in Ams now
Confusing? Yes. But cool.

Tucked down a street far from the hustle and bustle of the Red Light District and all its tourists, Bazar is a Middle Eastern restaurant that is perpetually busy. The restaurant is inside a former synogague, so it's huge. The second story is open to the first floor below, and everywhere you look is a riot of color -- from the large colored lamps to the mosaic walls to the dining section with colored Christmas lights, it's definitely not visually boring.  It might even be a bit much for a dining experience, but hey it's not my restaurant.

The service is actually horrendous.  I've been there twice and each time was really bad, even for European service. We called ahead for 7:45pm. They agreed that 7:30 would work -- and then wrote us down for 8:30. Innocent mistake or excuse to get us to have a drink by the bar? You be the judge. We found a spot at the bar, and despite having 3 bartenders working, it took us 15 minutes to even get someone to take our order. We stopped a waiter to order drinks during dinner. "Ok sure," he said, and walked away. Ten minutes later we stopped another server and asked about it. "Oh, he probably didn't even put it in the order," she said nonchalantly.  She brought our order -- a Coke, a bottled beer, and a red wine. Except somehow, "Coke" got transformed into "large beer."  She zoomed away before we could inform her of the mistake.

So, why did we eat there? The food is amazing.  The huge portions are cooked and spiced to perfection.  I ordered the Yogurtlu Adana (grilled minced beef and lamb kebab with lawash, yoghurt sauce with moesir, rice, grilled tomato, haydari and salad).

my dinner, plus an appetizer of dips (hummus, etc), dolmas, and bread that didn't last long enough for pictures

Christian posing but trying not to

Best Coffeeshop: The Doors

There are just some things that you HAVE to do in certain cities -- see Golden Gate in SF, have a beignet in New Orleans, Times Square in NYC..and a coffeeshop in Amsterdam.  When visiting a new place I am always terrified of picking a shitty (restaurant, hotel, museum, etc etc) so I had a list of researched, tried and true coffeeshops to visit. Knowing that Christian (my travel buddy for this particular trip) is a Captain Wing It, these were strategically chosen all around the city so that whenever when we needed a break from museums or the cold, we could pop into the nearest shop for a smoke. However, in additon to being Captain Wing It, Christian has a built-in "Plan Fucker-upper" and instinctively got the coffeeshop urge literally nowhere near any of my picks.

There were two shops within sight. At the risk of being too kitschy, I picked The Doors -- least we could probably hear some good music, I reasoned.  It was actually an awesome choice.

A barman stood behind a bar on the far wall. People were sitting at a bar along the left wall, but instead of drinking, they were smoking.  A barman was hanging out, serving them and smoking a cigarette.  A long bench ran along the length of the right wall with low tables, and booths were tucked in front of the two windows along the front of the shop.  Pictures of Jim Morrison lined the walls.  The customers were a mix of Dutch and English speakers, but they didn't seem like tourists.  It was almost cozy.

We snagged a table and ordered some prerolled joints. "Don't smoke all of it at once," the barman (or would it be weed man? ahaaa) cautioned us newbies.  "It's better to be kind of high than totally stoned."

It was really cool to chill, talk, smoke, and listen to 70s rock.  How funny that I was doing the same thing that my mom used to do -- just 40 years and 4000 miles away!

Afterwards we went for a walk.  Christian immediately ran into a parked bicycle just steps outside the door.  "Oh yeah, I get really dizzy. And I mix up my languages. And I say shit [stupid things]," he said.  "But the kickstand on the bike was down. That's why I tripped." Suuuuuure....

Best Bar: Bar Italia
Bar Italia is a spacious bar/restaurant combo. You enter one side and it's a packed bar/lounge.  Cross over the dance floor, go up a flight of stairs, and you are in a classy and quiet restaurant.

 It was absolutely packed when we got there after dinner at Bazar. We definitely did not manage to snag a table, but we did enjoy the DJ spinning popular dance/pop music while having a drink. The sad part was that no one was really dancing. I don't know if it was the crowd or just that it's Europe. I know that in France a lot of lounge/club/bar combos play dance music, but everyone who is there is too cool for school and just kind of bob around and talk to each other instead of shaking their booties on the dance floor.  Perhaps Bar Italia is the same.

Looking around I was struck by how good looking the Dutch are.  After so much time in Berlin with its scruffy unkempt look so in vogue, it was almost strange to see so many people who actually put effort into their appearance. Guys had longer hair, parted on the side and coiffed into place. Slim fitting jeans were paired with equally slim-fitting dress shirts and buttoned V neck cardicans. Girls were beautiful with long flowing hair and tasteful, classy yet casual dresses. Definitely not booty shaking, mini-wearing club girls. Some examples:

     

I pulled out my camera and tried to discreetly take a couple of pictures, but I was spotted. Not too hard to imagine considering it is an SLR and not very discreet at all. Can you see him? Hint: Look for the "peace" sign. 

What I imagine he was thinking: Oh look at that girl all in black with that fancy camera, she must be a professional party photographer! I'm gonna be in some sweet travel magazine or at the very least on an awesome party website!
What he was probably thinking: PICTUUUUURRRRRRE

Best Encounter: the Crazy Australians

Christian and I went separate ways on the last night we were there.  I was standing outside waiting to meet up with him again when a pair of guys walked by. One of them asked if I had a light. I lit his cigarette for him and we started chatting -- "Where are you from," etc etc, normal small talk. "We're from Australia," they said. 

"I LOVE AUSTRALIANS!" I all but yelled. I mean, who doesn't? With their quirky accents and fun, beach-infused attitudes, I have yet to meet an Australian I don't like.

One of them was definitely tipsy, and the other was the voice of reason.  "Oh my Gawd, you look like an Eskimo, can I just -- your fur looks so warm -- I just want to --" Tipsy started rubbing his head on the fur trim of my hood. "Oh my Gawd leave her alone, Jesus Christ," Reason said, rolling his eyes and pulling Tipsy away. "You freak."

"Look, you are so nice, can we put you in a cab or something?" they asked after talking for a few minutes.  "It's getting late, you should be back in your hotel room instead of out here in the cold."

A ton of empty cabs had driven by, looking hopefully for an easy fare from a (relatively) sober tourist. I didn't need the help but let Tipsy try to hail me a cab anyway. "I've got a great cab dance, just watch. I'll hail you one, no problem," he promised. He then ran into the street -- yes, into the middle of the street -- and started wildly flailing his arms, jumping around, doing kicks that would make the Rockettes proud, and gyrating his hips.  While hilarious, it was definitely having the opposite effect. Cabs were actually changing lanes to avoid this maniac in the middle of the street having a strange seizure.

After a couple of missed cabs, I looked at Reason. "Dude, your friend is scaring them away," I laughed. He shook his head. "Come on, man, let me do it," he said, pulling his friend onto the curb.  With only a reasonably raised hand and two seconds of time, a cab pulled up to the curb as if he'd summoned it, which I guess he had. 

"Take this lady where she needs to go. No funny business. We're watching you," Tipsy said. He gave the cabbie the evil eye.  "I mean it."  They started walking away.  I waved as the cab passed. Reason waved back, and Tipsy gave Cabbie the "I'm watching you" hand gesture a la Robert de Niro in Meet the Fockers:

While the whole encounter sounds kind of creepy (meeting two random men at night on the street, rubbing his face on my hood, etc etc), it was everything but.  It was actually quite hilarious. I'll never forget that crazy cab dance or how genuinely concerned for my safety they were. 

Definitely winners in the Best Encounter category.

Note from a cafe in Amsterdam

I'm so lucky. I am in Amsterdam right now, looking out over a canal and watching the nighttime lights reflect off the black water. I'm visiting an amazing friend and having another join us in just over an hour.

It just goes to show you that you can be the master of your own destiny.  I dreamt about moving to Europe for years, ever since I first visited in 2004, but I always dismissed it without seriously considering it.  I assumed automatically that it would be too hard, too many road blocks, too expensive.. In short, too impossible.

And then over the summer, I thought I'd finally have my chance to start living my dream. But as you know from previous posts, that plan didn't work. The problem? I had to depend on another person to realize the dream, to make it into a reality.  Your happiness should never be someone else's responsibility. It's up to you to make things happen. And the very moment I took things into my own hands and started to set the pieces in motion by myself, things started changing.

For everyone who has ever had a dream but who has been afraid of chasing it -- STOP. Stop right now. Take one step today towards achieving that special hidden desire you've always harbored and cherished, but haven't acted on.  What is the worst that can happen?  That you fail?  So what!  At least you tried and made some good memories, and probably a great story or two to tell.  I'll take a lifetime of failures and lessons learned over a lifetime of regrets and missed opportunities.

What is the lesser evil for you: to have tried and failed, or to never have tried at all?

For me, it's the latter. And I'm never looking back or letting my fear get in the way ever again.  What is stopping you?

Rules about questions about moving to Berlin

I've also had a lot of people ask me questions about moving to Berlin. I guess they have been following me on FB and on my blog and I piqued their interest.

Some rules must be laid down, however. Only two.

1. I am totally open to answering questions. I will answer until the cows freaking come home. But don't try to get me to talk you into moving here, and then have a rebuttal ready for everything I say. Either you are genuinely interested and really want to know how it is, or you don't ask me. I am not here to convince you, and I am not here to listen to your whiny excuses.  "I live in my parents' basement and have a shitty job in customer service, and I hate my life, but Berlin is far away. I heard it's cold. I don't speak German. It's far away."  No shit, Sherlock. It's far away.  Yes, there is a language that is not English. It's freaking in EUROPE and you are in AMERICA. It's not going to be the same and you shouldn't expect it to be.  Either you deal with it, or you stay in your comfy little security blanket and be happy with the same old thing.

2. On the other hand.. If it's something you really want to do but are afraid, I will talk to you about that. It can be hard to give up everything and move to a new country, but I think it's a very challenging, rewarding, must-do life experience.  Be open, be honest with me, but also be receptive to what I say.

Just two rules. Can you handle that? If not, don't ask me anything, because you will just annoy me and probably make me think less of you.

"Dear Casey: How do you travel?" Part 1

I often get questions from friends back in the States along the lines of

• "How do you pay for your travels?"
• "How do you stop being a tourist and actually move there for good?"
• "Wasn't it hard to leave the States and everything you know, to move to Germany all by yourself?

I can write on and on about each question, so I'm going to break my answers up into a few parts. This is actually kind of fun.   I feel like Dear Abby! I should start a Reader Mailbag or something. Anyhoo, a friend wrote:

"Your blog is thoroughly engrossing. I love reading your descriptions of places and people. Your experiences inspire and excite! Thank you for sharing your life and experiences with me. You've been to places most people have only dreamt about. One burning question I've been meaning to ask... And feel free to choose not to answer. So much travel and relocation had to be expensive. Did your work pay relocation expenses or did you just have the funds to go? I tend to get so freaked out that I won't be able to afford to travel due to the cost and just wondering how you've done it."

First -- thank you, thank you, thank you! I am so happy that you like to read about my adventures, which in turn pushes me to experience more so that I can write more... And also, I'm happy that my writing is not total crap and you actually like to read it!

Second -- the money. Yessss indeed, the financial aspect of traveling is probably one of the biggest roadblocks.  Even with all the new ways to cut corners and save money (Airbnb, Couchsurfer, etc -- I will talk about these later) let's face it -- traveling can be freaking expensive.

When we are students, we are rich in time but lack the money needed to do any serious traveling. And once we become professionals, we STILL don't have the money because we are paying for our college years for the next 200 years (or, at least I am...that diploma is the most expensive piece of paper I've bought in my life) and doing responsible things like buying houses and paying bills and all that crap that goes along with being an adult.  And some of you crazy people are actually doing things like getting married and having babies, which adds on a whole different level of "financial not-have." But I'm assuming that if you are having babies, you are not interested in traveling around the world, so this post is not for you.  But thanks for reading anyway.

SO.. back on topic. How did I personally enable myself to travel? To be honest, a lot of my really awesome trips (Vegas in Jan 2011, Cancun, Phuket) were funded by the company I worked for.  Normally I would never be able to afford helicopter rides in the Grand Canyon, catered beach parties with Mexican fire dancers, or private boat tours of tropical Pacific islands.  Just to make everyone jealous, here are some pictures.

Crew of Helicopter #5 literally in the middle of the desert at a random helicopter refueling station

FIRE!! and a Brazilian drum line on the beach of Cancun

part of the fleet of ships that the company rode around on during the day

So, awesome company trips aside...The other trips I financed on my own left me with amazing memories as well, and were just as fun.

Anyone can travel, really. You just have to open your eyes to reality, and to other possibilities.  Think outside the box, and don't be content with just doing the normal tourist thing.

1. Decide where you want to go. This kind of goes hand in hand with #2. You shouldn't limit yourself, but be realistic too.  If you are earning minimum wage you probably shouldn't be planning a 5-star trip to Dubai....but you also shouldn't limit yourself to a weekend in Myrtle Beach if you live in Florence (just 1 hr by car, for those of you not familiar with South Carolina geography). I think a good rule of thumb is one major trip per year, where major means you have to fly there. Exceptions are road trips that take more than 2 days.
2. Decide how much you can spend on your trip. I like to have this one second, because you can visit some amazing places and still do it cheaply.  Have a dream for your destination first, then work to make it happen.
   Financial 101: How much money do you make? How much goes to essentials (rent/mortgage, car, insurance, food, etc)? How much is left over?  And how much of that leftover are you willing to save?  I lived on a very tight budget for the first few months I was in San Francisco until I had achieved certain financial goals I set for myself. After that, I finally allowed myself some "play money." At the end of the month, whatever was leftover from the Play Money went into a savings account. It was tough to save so much when really all I wanted to do was go crazy spending the salary I was earning (my first real salary after college), but seeing the savings account grow each month and keeping my ultimate goal in mind was great motivation.
3. Plan out the logistics. Based on your budget, this is usually the hardest part. Travel to/from the destinations will probably be the most expensive part if you're going to be city-hopping. Lodging will be the second, and activities will be the third. Food is fourth. You can always just eat bread or something if you need to. Not recommended, since food is one of my favorite parts of a vacation..but it's an option.  

So, with this in mind..My brief story of how I got to live in Berlin. I had intended on moving in with my boyfriend in France and getting a student visa, then eventually translating that into an internship and long-term job.  However, that didn't work out so well -- we broke up just before I returned to the US to get my visa. I was planning on finding a job near Charlotte, NC, when I decided to take one last trip in the EU. I still had some savings, so I used that to fund the trip.

I kind of, sort of, maybe just a little bit... cheated. I planned my destinations so that I could stay with friends and save hella money on hotel rooms.  It was kind of like Couchsurfing, except with people you already know.  I am so lucky to have friends scattered all around Europe in awesome cities like Munich, Hamburg, Paris, Rennes, Prague, Amsterdam....etc etc etc.  But I was prepared to spend EVERYTHING I had, down to the last cent, to have a really great time. I didn't want to worry about money.  I wanted to be able to say YES to everything.

And I did, and it was amazing.  And you can too.  Or don't, and have your budget and have a lot of fun and not spend your last cent.  Remember Step #2?

Next post is about how to do it financially, and also maybe mentally. Because a lot of people have also written that they are afraid of jumping on a plane and just going.

The rewards of saying "Yes" and making it happen..Totally worth it