If you asked me what you should do if you visit Burlington, Iowa, I would say “Hang out somewhere. Talk to people.” This would also be my advice for Grand Rapids (Minnesota), Alma (Wisconsin), and Fulton (Illinois), and many other places along the river, for that matter.
These places don’t have the nightlife of Chicago or the museums of New York or the food of San Francisco. What they offer instead are relaxed places to eat and drink that won’t empty your wallet, and conversation.
When I think about my most memorable travel experiences, they involve people moments: two hours of conversation while drinking slivovici in Sarajevo with folks who didn’t speak English; going to a wake in San Salvador; eating pierogi with a fellow traveler in Krakow.
I’ve experienced magical moments touring the ruins of Angkor and Machu Pichu, but Angkor became more special after sharing a ride with a young Buddhist monk heading back to the monastery. The experience of being at Machu Pichu was elevated by touring it with a person who was passionate and knowledgeable about its significance.
In Burlington, I found a place to visit repeatedly, even though it was more upscale than I usually prefer, but Martini’s Grille has amazing views of the Mississippi River and the conversations were so fun at each visit that I kept going back, even though I felt like I should be checking out other places.
At one of those visits to Martini’s, I was sitting at the bar and reading A Sand County Almanac (by local son and conservation icon Aldo Leopold). The person next to me noticed the book, and we started to chat. She turned out to be the director of the county conservation department, and, after a wonderful hour or so of conversation, she volunteered her father to take me on the river. Two days later I was in a jon boat on the Mississippi, then lounging on the deck of an island cabin watching the world flow by, chatting with Steve and Jan and drinking beer.
Things like this happen to me more often than you might think. I’m going to go out on a limb here and say that a good part of the reason is that I’m a good listener. I like hearing other people’s stories. I don’t see conversation as an Olympic sport where I have to top your story with one of my own. It might just be a personality trait or something I picked up as a middle child, but it seems so natural to me, that I’m still surprised when I meet people who don’t have the foggiest idea about how to nurture a conversation.
When we don’t listen, we miss the best of what travel has to offer: the conversations with people and the opportunities they open up to get a peek into their lives. We can’t do this when we are trying to rush our way through twenty museums, thirteen nightclubs, and seven pizza joints or when we are just waiting for an opportunity to steer the conversation back to ourselves.
We have to slow down, walk around town, linger in a store, find a place to return to a few times. And listen.
© Dean Klinkenberg, 2012
