This past weekend I spent a long few days driving from Charleston to Charlottesville to pack up my stuff in storage and bring it back with me.  Along the way I had lots of time to think.  Not only is it a long drive, but the cargo van I was driving had no CD player, and the radio didn’t work (so neither did my iPod).  There is nothing more crazy-making than no music and no book to listen to on a trip.  So to kill time and maintain sanity, I decided to put together a list of helpful hints for anyone thinking of driving down to see me.  Hope this doesn’t talk you out of it – I’d love the company.

1)      Make sure the radio and/or CD player works.  The only thing longer than the 24 hour flu is the 8.5 hour drive from Charleston to Charlottesville without anything for company.

2)      Make sure you have cruise control.  Driving long distances without it is a little like riding a one-speed bike up a mountain.  It’s possible to do it, but there are sure way easier ways to get there.

3)      If you are going to rent a cargo van to go out of state, it’s cheaper to rent it for a whole week and let it sit than to rent it for just the 3 days you actually need it. Really.

4)      In Virginia, if the speed limit is 65, it actually means 65.  In NC, it means 70 – 75.  In SC, 65 means if you’re driving under 80, you’ll probably get run off the road.

5)      If you don’t buy anything else on your trip, buy peaches as soon as you cross from North Carolina into SC.  There are no better peaches in the world than those from upstate SC.  Trust me, I know – I grew up eating Gaffney peaches, and I’m a peach snob because of it.

6)      If you’re looking for a place to eat, the Golden Corral has the best buffet in Wilson, NC.  At least, that’s what the giant billboard says.

7)      And on the topic of food, the Sombrero Restaurant at South of the Border is not a Mexican restaurant.  So don’t get your heart set on bean tostadas and chips and salsa like I did and then end up with an iceberg lettuce salad from the salad bar.

8)      If you’ve never been to South of the Border, you should stop.  It’s like a time machine, with all the entertainment families thought cool before there were backseat TVs and water parks.  There are junk shops, and a reptile lagoon, and big plaster flamingos and bears and gorillas hanging out together on the sidewalks (not sure why that makes sense – are there bears and gorillas and pink flamingos living side by side somewhere south of the border?).

9)      Try to make it out of Virginia before you buy gas.  For some reason, gas in VA is at least 10c more per gallon, sometimes as much as 30c per gallon more.

10)  The last thing is a reminder to myself – never, never, never try to cram a lifetime of stuff into a cargo van again.  It’s not gonna fit.

About a week ago I realized that my passport had expired at the end of February.  And I immediately had a panic attack.  What if I needed to cross the border into Canada or Mexico?  What if suddenly someone wanted to whisk me away to Paris or Argentina?  What if I just wanted to take a quick flight to the Bahamas?

Now I know there are lots of people out in the world who don’t have passports.  And I know it isn’t necessary to leave this country to have a wonderful vacation or travel to places I’ve never been.  But a passport to me means freedom, and I value freedom more than most things in life.  I don’t want limits to my life.  And not being able to go where I want to go when I want to go limits me.  Even if I don’t choose to take advantage of it.  I’ve had a passport since I was 18 years old, and I don’t intend to give up the privilege now.

I realize that travel for some may seem like a luxury, but for me it’s a necessity.  So today I slipped over to the UPS Store and had a passport picture taken (pleasantly better than the last one, which could have been mistaken for a mug shot), and tonight I’m filling out my paperwork and mailing it off tomorrow.  And I’ll sit by the mailbox until it comes, in 6 weeks or so.  Let’s just hope I have no international travel emergency before then.

Oh, and if you don’t have a passport, get one.  Even if you never use it, never go anywhere outside your home state, you’ll always know you can, and that is empowering.

I’d forgotten how enthusiastic spring is down here.  In the lowcountry there is no easing into spring – everything throws itself at you all at once.  The azaleas are everywhere, in pinks and salmons and lavenders and reds.  The piney woods are full of them. There is so much flora to see and smell that you get a little drunk from it all.

My favorite is the wisteria.  Wisteria reminds me to breathe.  Deeply.  Wherever I am, whatever I’m doing, I have to pause and just let the scent wash over me.  I’m not kidding.  I’ll stop in the middle of the street if I get a whiff.  It drugs me, makes me forget everything else.  Some people don’t like it because it’s a parasite – it can totally take over a host tree until the only thing left living is the wisteria, until it looks like just a big wisteria tree and there’s no evidence of the tree underneath.  But I don’t care.  It’s my absolute favorite.

I’m remembering how to slow down here, how to notice the world around me more.  The smell of wisteria, the fog hanging over the river in the mornings, the broken-glass-glint of the sun as it hits the ocean.  The dragonflies and herons and pelicans.  I sat last night on the screened porch for an hour watching a gecko wait patiently for his supper to happen by.

My attentiveness seeps into my writing.  I sit outside on the porch writing when I can these days, and though at times the beauty is distracting, it’s also nourishing, and I think my work is better for it.  At least, I hope so.  But either way, I’m enjoying the writing much more when I’m not trapped inside.  If you’re a writer, try it.  Go sit outside to write for a while, in a park or at the beach or in a tree house.  Anywhere there is fresh air and the smell of flowers and the sound of birds.  Then, if you’re sitting outside communing with nature, even if you’re having a bad writing day, it’s still a good day, right?