One of the enduring role models in my life is James Bond. His confident coolness under pressure with a slight twist of British humor has always appealed to me. As a world traveler, my “inner James Bond” allots time to approach new experiences abroad from a deeper perspective.

In understanding 007’s personal appeal, it is important to distinguish between a trip and a vacation. A trip involves an obligation to visit strictly for pleasure as an outside visitor while a vacation additionally allows one to learn and grow internally as a person. In Bond’s new movie, Spectre, 007 prepares for a Mexico City journey by disguising himself in a white suit and skull mask on the “Day of the Dead.” His vacation attire shows a keen awareness of the Mexican reverence for the deceased on this sacred holiday. In my life, an African Safari trip transformed into a vacation as a result of a similar cultural insight. By joining a Masaai Tribe dance ritual in Kenya, my actions led to a subsequent exchange of ideas about tech devices with a tribal chief. Without question, Africa came alive to me then.

Any Bond movie displays technology at its cutting edge. In Spectre, as the plane Bond courageously pilots explodes in the sky, 007 miraculously lands it by activating its hidden snowmobile apparatus. As Bond surrounds himself with such advanced gadgetry, a feeling of invincibility cannot be denied .Having an iPhone for travel has similarly improved my attitude about survival in a strange country. Walking to dinner in the confusing maze of Lisbon’s Alfama District, my ability to utilize my phone GPS Tracking system made finding my way in the dark possible. My “inner Bond” won again. When I feel lost in a strange land, a short Skype call to my family restores a semblance of protection.

Is spite of Bond’s confidence to prevail in all situations, it is ironic that he begins to question his violent ways in Spectre. In a closing scene, he is asked how he justifies killing a human life. With deep regret, 007 humbly replies that he has learned the value of not pulling the trigger when possible now. People may interpret this thought as the end of the Bond era but I see it more as a plea to stop glorifying guns today. Would a pacifist Bond character in the future makes sense?

The hypocrisies of violence appall me in my travels. How could the Dachau Concentration Camp in Germany offer a pastoral park impression? Why are Russian Medals for military glory sold as cheap souvenirs at the former site of the Berlin Wall? How is it possible to build towering monuments for ruthless Portuguese conquistadors in Lisbon? As 007 sips contentedly on his perfect vodka martini, I desire his explanation for such lies. His answer would truly inspire me: My character of James Bond was mere movie fiction just as these lies you described could never be truly believed. It is up to you to create your own script in your travels as a message of peace.

 I walk quietly along the Seine with no destination in mind. I crunch along the fallen leaves and gaze starry. -eyed at the sheer elegance of an earlier time. Stately buildings surround my view inscribed with illustrious names from French past. A royal chandelier shines brightly from a passing window with ghosts of sumptuous feasts of emperors. I continue along this stony path of Kings and As the French flag flies proudly on a passing barge, I feel truly fortunate to be in the presence of such undying grandeur now.

In the distance, I hear the eerie call of Notre Dame. It reminds me to consider my spiritual connection to the tragedies that have befallen this great city. Many followers of faith have been persecuted in the presence of this revered cathedral. The spirit of lost such souls speak to me in hope that such intolerance of difference will not be repeated in my own life.

The geometry of shape mesmerize me now as a grand footbridge draws closer. Gilded bronze decorations of gods and goddesses reveal a time when Rome ruled the Western world. Ornate cast iron streetlights remain as a vestige of Beau Arts gas lighting in the late 19th century. A perfect symmetry of arch is formed as a tourist boat quietly emerges from mysterious shadows.

The Parisian landscape that I have observed today on this simple walk along the Seine reveals a moment of truth. I desire to find my fate in the natural beauty that surrounds me. An autumn leaf rustles in the wind. I now see an energy to experience my life more fully.

 My mother’s living room is lined with paintings of nostalgic Parisian living in the early 20th century. In these grand scenes, gentlemen and ladies are often depicted lounging in formal elegance. While appreciating the beauty of such art, these moments always seemed oddly out of place to me in casual South Florida. Why bother with social graces when your life here is typified by noisy tourist traps, impatient city drivers, and petty, condo rules interference.

A turning point in my life came however on a recent vacation to Paris. Why would two people take the time to greet each other with intimate kisses on both cheeks? Why did cars give way to pedestrians in crowded intersections! How did landlord and tenant friendliness become the norm in cases of inspection violations? Could this attitude of French gentility work for me?

As I returned home, it now occurred to me that being polite to others would improve the quality of my life. Take the time to meet and greet strangers and you would make more friends. Lay off the horn and enjoy the freedom of driving. Respect the rules of my condo and learn to live with less. It is truly noble to accept this challenge of being a modern day gentleman.

 Finding one’s way in Paris can be a challenge. While a guided tour is usually available, the decision to walk along one’s own path can be more fulfilling. Observe the museum stone wall in St. Germain and you will relish what medieval treasures lie within. Move toward a line of fallen leaves as you saunter along the Seine and you enter the world of Monet’s Impressionism. A distant cliff focuses your mind to the white sacredness of Sacre Coeur. There lies a perfect place to overlook all of Paris, The church bells of this proud basilica begin to ring in the distance. As night falls in Paris, an azure moon appears above. Your journey in Paris will now continue with an awareness that it is wonderful to be alive in this city of your dreams.

 Have you taken the time to really enjoy your food lately? Amidst the constant talk that we are what we eat, French cuisine in Paris invites one to enjoy life to the maximum. Taking one’s time to choose the right food to eat there fosters a more life – fulfilling experience. A crisp baguette or croissant begins each morning uncluttered by worries about caloric count overkill. As the day progresses, you realize that the need to find food goes beyond hunger. A sensory collage of color, shape, and smell commands your attention in your attempt to select a simple lunchtime sandwich. Each meal proceeds creatively as an artist ponders the complex brushwork of his latest painting. The excitement continues at dinner as you discover novel ways that your food will be presented. Pour your melted cheese onto a boiled potato with a French style, Raclette meal , savor your green salad appetizer served heated for extra flavor, or delight in a mountain of mussels piled high in your seafood medley. The evening now ends in an explosion of sugary delight when your attention falls on the pastry of your dreams. That secret taste which lies inside of a flaky crust is a sure way to know that you have lived a moment of quiet ecstasy in the mere presence of food.            

If you want to learn about the culture of Portugal, listen to the music from the streets and cafes at night. The concert begins before most of the audience arrives late to take their seats. All eyes focus on the musical leader as he/she gives a detailed description of each selection, As a respectful silence settles over the crowd, the songs unfold with little rush to finish. Frequently, a musician will challenge them self to perform an elaborate improvisation of the main theme, ending with a raucous show of applause from the audience. Such solidarity of emotion clearly demonstrates that the music itself matters most here and is a uniting force in this country. One leaves with a feeling that they have been part of a special life moment.

Lisbon has a proud past that transcends time passage. Everywhere you look, there are symbols of Portuguese life long ago.  Walking the narrow alleys in Alfama, symbols of medievalism overshadow surrounding urban decay. A proud warrior directs me to have courage about the future. Flowers are hung to provide inspiration for love. The intricacies of sculpture suggest perfection of craft. The timeless presence of such icons is something to be remembered as a meditative mantra in the present moment.

The castle stands proudly over the steep hill. Its call to come closer commands my attention now. I curiously view these medieval remnants as an ideal spot for finding peace. Find the olden path and my thirst for contentment will soon come clear. As cobblestone turns to dust, my ascent begins smoothly. With each passing step, the town below grows smaller. Ancient vines part up ahead to signal the way forward. Footsteps above! A passing knight perhaps or the King’s procession alive. A crumbling wall in the distance dares me to cross into the mysteries that I seek. No home could ever be more inviting. It soon becomes clear that my castle resides within me and its kingdom lies waiting to finding a restful existence.

Streetcars are not the most efficient means to travel in Lisbon but they assuredly are the most fun. Grab hold immediately of the nearest rail inside the cabin and you speed off to a destination that you soon forget. Pay close attention to the location of your wallet as you become Sherlock Holmes and guess who might be the most likely one to lift it silently from your pocket. How do you say pickpocket in Portuguese? Having taken great pride in finding the proper place to stand amidst the dense maze of people surrounding you, what fun it might be to guess how to exit the tram successfully. A sudden jolt of brakes is felt at each stop as many spring confidently toward the rear exit. You gradually move closer to the rear at each stop as you test your balance to stand nearer to an exit position. At some point, you begin to realize that this journey has reawakened your senses to “living in the present.” I feel more alive now and laugh inside at this carnival of human madness.

What do Vasco Da Gama and myself have in common? We both sought the curiosities of the unknown by traveling great distances to do so. Although I never became memorialized with a statue as this great explorer was, I feel the same sense of daring accomplishment in walking the cobblestone lanes of old Lisbon today. Vasco’s spirit of the “Great Age of Portuguese Discovery” is a timeless example to follow in my search for life’s ultimate meaning. Continue reading “Vasco Da Gama And Me” →