Take me to your masseuse

When I am home during the week, I watch the Travel Channel. You would think I would be tired of traveling, having lived in three continents by the time I was 15. And for a while, that was true. But now I love to see new things, breath non-Minnesota air.

A commercial on the Travel Channel implores, be a traveler, not a tourist. What type of traveler are you? Do you prefer undiscovered places where accommodations amount to a tarp over your head and a hole in the ground? Or do you sign up for an organized tour the minute you step off the plane, lunch and beverages included? Do you refuse to go to Paris because it’s a tourist Mecca, or is it on top of your list precisely for that reason?

Me, I am somewhere in the middle. Not a tourist, not an adventurous traveler, I am a VACATIONER. My idea of “roughing it” is not having a mint on my pillow when I return to my room after a day at the pool/beach/spa/shopping trip to the quaint little village down the road. I look forward as much to a beautifully appointed hotel as I am to sight seeing and steeping myself in the local culture. When I am comfortable, that is when I can relax and enjoy venturing out, museum hopping, sight seeing, canoeing…ok, no, never canoeing.

That is why I love, love, love, Sam Brown. She is the host of Passport to Europe and Great Hotels on the travel channel, and she focuses on all the right things. Yes, she goes skiing with a professional instructor in Switzerland, and she tours factories where they make ancient bells in Austria. She even hang-glides in Hawaii and pets wild birds in the Florida Keys. She eats everything her hosts put in front of her, dares to drink local wines, and risks life and limb in pursuit of exotic delicacies so we don’t have to. She is brave, that Sam Brown.

But Sam Brown mostly cares about three things: How is the shopping? How is the spa? And how is the bathroom? That’s my girl.

Sam Brown is the reason why I dragged my brand new husband down to the other end of the Las Vegas strip on our honeymoon in search of the Burger Bar, where they have (brace yourself) a dessert burger. Glazed donut, chocolate fudge for the meat, fruit roll-up for the cheese, and strawberry sauce in lieu of ketchup. I mean, come on, that’s adventure!

So maybe I have gotten spoiled in my old age. Or maybe I focus too much on food, which might explain those pesky pounds that have crept up on me in the last few years. But I don’t mind. I like comfort, I like pretty. I like balconies with ocean views and I like good water pressure. That trek up Peruvian mountains, my own tent on my back and freeze-dried goat meat for dinner, will have to wait for the next life-time.