Secret trips – Betsy Devany

: I learn the destinations of our trip on the way to the airport

: Page one of book prepared by my husband for our trip

Just prior to leaving for New York JFK Airport, I was handed a binder prepared by my husband. This is when I learned our secret destinations were Athens, Greece; the Greek Islands of Hydra, Poros, and Aegina; and Paris, France. John had made sections for each destination,including photos of the hotels where we would be staying, and lists of things to do.

Since that moment, I have been in a whirlwind of meeting people from other countries, dancing with Greeks in a Greek Tavern, soaking in the exquisite colors of the islands, following cats and dogs in attempts to photograph them in their habitats, falling in love with the sculptures in the Louvre, weeping in the chapel at Notre Dame, attending the yearly book festival in Athens (only by chance) and the pistachio festival in Aegina (also by chance) and being rendered speechless in the tunnels of Paris’s Metro upon hearing violin music echo beneath the ground.

I had every intention of blogging. And writing. And editing one of my novels. And while I accomplished neither during our visit, I discovered photography. I learned the desire to write from deep within my heart found a different channel, so that I could preserve the moments through my eyes. Moments I am sure will find their way into my writing. Just as my characters nudge me to listen, I was compelled to express my creativity through the camera. And I took many photos–nearly one thousand.

Now, as I begin to pour through these images, I understand why I had to follow a cat through a park in Greece. Why I could not leave the statues in the Gardens of Versailles (until my husband took my hand and pulled me back to the metro.) Why the boy begging at the bottom of the steps leading to Sacre-Coeur spoke to me in ways I had not yet experienced, or even expected.

Timing was everything. Like a manuscript which reaches the right editor at the right time, I was blessed to be in the right place at the right time. As the weeks go by, I will be sharing some of these stories with you.

As I prepare to leave on a secret trip – planned by my husband for our fifteenth wedding anniversary – I am faced with how to pack, and whether choosing outfits for two unknown destinations outside the United States is more difficult than plotting a novel. The answer is painfully clear as I am obviously back at the computer writing.

John’s suitcase is already packed – five days ago. My suitcase is empty, though I currently have a bed covered with multiple pairs of pants, skirts, tops, and anything else I might need. (I dare to say that I am only familiar with throw-packing.) Is there really any other way to pack?

Before he left for work, I asked John what he planned to wear on a typical day on our trip, he gestured to his current attire and said, “In the daytime, I will wear these tan slacks with this blue shirt . . . and in the evening I will wead these tan slacks with this blue shirt and maybe a tie and a jacket.”

I responded with a blank stare. Then I began to stammer. “Ah . . . I have skirts and pants and dresses to choose from and I can’t just add a tie at night. And what about the necklaces I made last week to wear? What does that travel book say about women’s attire? Will we get dirty during the day from sand or dirt or . . . ”

“Maybe. We might. Got to go to work,” he said, walking to his car.

I poured myself a second cup of coffee, hoping it would inspire me to consolidate the selection of apparel on my bed. It didn’t. Especially since the cats were snoring on top of my clean clothes and when I tried to shoo them off, Joey hissed at me.

And then, I discovered my suitcase was already packed.

Category: Secret trips

Paris and Greece

Where in the World is Betsy Going?