Alexandra Bogdanovic's Blog: That's life... - Posts Tagged "travel"

Just think of it as my own "Amazing Race."
My quest to learn more about my father's life for my next book recently took me on a three-week journey through Europe - from Spain to Serbia and Germany. It gave me a chance to visit new cities, to reunite with some relatives I haven't seen in 16 years and to meet others for the first time.
While staying with one cousin who lives near Barcelona, I fell completely in love with the Mediterranean city teeming with life, history and culture. I felt my heart break when another cousin I stayed with in Belgrade told me there's no future for her own daughter there. I developed a love-hate relationship with Munich while visiting my aunt.
I came home with priceless memories, a deeper understanding of my Serbian heritage, and more questions than answers about my dad. Was he a thief, a spy, or both?
I came home with not only a deeper love and appreciation for America, but a deeper understanding of the damage done by our government in the former Yugoslavia.
I came home knowing there's no way to change the past, and no reason not to embrace the future.
Until next time, "That's life..."

It's been a hectic few months to say the least.
When I haven't been traveling the world or taking weekend trips to Virginia, I've been busy marketing one book, doing research for my second, juggling freelance projects, volunteering, and looking for a full time job. Somehow I've also managed to find time for a healthy social life. I've been trying not to spend any time worrying about the country imploding, but I can't help it.
On the other hand, my cat doesn't have a care in the world. As long as he's got food, a clean litter box and a comfortable bed (mine), he's a happy boy.
Eli's day begins as soon as one of us wakes up. He demands his breakfast, uses the facilities and then rejoins me in bed or waits for me to play with him. After his morning workout, he finds a sunny spot and goes back to sleep. He gets up around 1 or 2 p.m., has a snack and comes to make sure I'm getting some work done. By 4 p.m., he starts demanding dinner, which is usually served by 5 p.m. After dinner he rests up before his nightly indoor hunting expeditions.
All in all he's got a great life. He rules the house with a velvet paw; his wish is my command. In other words, he's deeply loved and he's very well taken care of.
You know, I've often told family and friends, in my next life I want to come back as my own cat.
Until next time, "That's life..."

I've got big plans this weekend. They're just not the plans I usually have.
You see, my schedule for the third weekend in October has revolved around the running of the International Gold Cup steeplechase races in The Plains, Va., for nearly a decade. I attended my first fall classic as a reporter for what was then the Fauquier Times-Democrat in 2004 and I haven't missed one since. Or more accurately, until now.

But honestly I had no desire to go this year. I didn't want to deal with the hassle of what to wear and where to stay. I didn't want to deal with a 300 mile drive (one way). Most importantly I didn't want to deal with fake people -- specifically the people who were nice enough to me while I lived and worked in Virginia but who haven't bothered to keep in touch since I left.
So while my alleged friends in Virginia law enforcement will be spending their Saturday dealing with drunken idiots, I'll be spending my day in New York City. In fact I'll be on the Circle Line cruising around Manhattan taking more photographs for my upcoming exhibit in March.
I'm sure I'll have a great time. After all, they say home is where the heart is. And my heart belongs to New York.
Until next time, "That's life..."

It was an adventure of a lifetime.
On Friday, Jan. 30, I embarked on a trip to Florida to receive the latest award for my memoir, Truth Be Told: Adam Becomes Audrey. But I didn't fly. Instead, I made the 900-plus mile journey from New York City to Orlando by train.
The trip was supposed to take approximately 22-and-a-half hours, but it actually took 24. Now, 24-hours in a coach seat may sound like torture -- but in all honesty it wasn't that bad. In fact it was no worse than a 20-plus hour trans-continental/trans-Pacific flight from the east coast of America to Australia.
If given a choice, I'd probably take the train everywhere. It's a great way to meet people and an even better way to see the country. On this particular trip down the eastern seaboard, I got some fantastic photographs (like this one in Baltimore) and I met some interesting characters along the way.
By the time I arrived in Orlando on Saturday afternoon, I was grungy and exhausted. But with plenty of time before the awards banquet, I explored my hotel and immediate surroundings. I also took advantage of the well-stocked wet bar in my hotel room.
Held at the Grand Bohemian Hotel in downtown Orlando, the awards banquet itself was well worth the trip. It was an intimate affair featuring some wonderful acceptance speeches by some truly amazing authors. A few of us ended the evening with drinks at a nearby bar and by Sunday morning, I was definitely glad I had the day to relax.
As it turned out, my Super Bowl Sunday began with a leisurely breakfast and continued with a stroll around Lake Eola Park and a trip to the local history center. I got back to the hotel just in time to do some writing and order room service before the big game.
Monday morning came all too soon and before I knew it, I was back on another train heading north. And, as it always happens, the return trip was quicker than the first one.
I arrived at New York City's Penn Station to find frigid temperatures and the remnants of a winter storm on the ground. But it really didn't matter.
It was good to be home.
Until next time, "That's life..."

If there's one thing I hate, it's someone with a sense of entitlement. If there's one thing I really hate it's a celebrity with a sense of entitlement.
So not surprisingly I wasn't impressed when Johnny Depp became the center of an epic controversy in Australia while I was there.
Apparently Mr. Depp arrived in the Land Down Under on a private jet. In and of itself, that is certainly no big deal. It only became a big deal because he (allegedly supposedly purportedly reportedly) brought his dogs along... without informing the proper authorities.
Needless to say, the proper authorities -- who are tasked with enforcing the country's rigorous immigration and customs regulations -- weren't impressed when they learned about the (alleged) transgression. Because all domestic animals that enter Australia must be quarantined to ensure they aren't bringing any dangerous parasites or other diseases into the country that could harm animals or people, the Australian minister of agriculture was especially peeved.
In televised appearances, he said the laws apply to everyone -- and that ignorance is no excuse for disobeying them. Then he basically told Mr. Depp to take his dogs and go home -- or else.
The media ate it up. In quintessential Australian style, the press dubbed the controversy "The War on Terriers." It was so wrong -- funny -- but wrong.
Whether he cared to admit it or not, Johnny Depp was wrong, too. As an Australian, I was angry that he thought he could just waltz into town with his dogs in tow and get away with breaking the law. As an American I wasn't surprised.
Until next time, "That's life..."