Disaster preparedness

Whenever I travel, I try to leave time, money, and mental fortitude to allow for things to go wrong. It's an inevitable part of trying to pull so many logistical details together: there will be annoyances, minor hiccups, and occasionally a disaster with the potential to derail your plans in a major way.

So, with my flight leaving at 9 tonight, here you have it: Things That Have Gone Wrong in the Final 48 Hours.

Missing gear. I ordered a piece of scuba equipment that I need to bring with me, and it was supposed to arrive yesterday. It didn't, and as we speak, I'm waiting for a phone call from the scuba shop to see whether it comes today. This may or may not culminate in a mad dash to the shop at the absolute last minute. Lesson learned: order or buy anything you need to bring with you WAY ahead of time.

Technology is not my friend. Seriously--my younger sister has had to show me how to use the remote more times than I'll admit. So with so much of travel logistics happening online, there were bound to be some frustrations. The highlights have been an airline check-in system that I couldn't for the life of me figure out, and a malfunctioning printer. Lesson learned: getting angry at inanimate objects is less helpful than phoning someone from a younger generation.

The big thing that goes wrong at the last minute. Seven hours before I was supposed to leave, an ATM ate my debit card while I was trying to withdraw cash to exchange for Euros at the airport. Cue panic, horror, and tears. Did I mention my phone was dead? One borrowed phone and a literal sprint to the bank later, things are just fine, although I'm a bit traumatized. Lesson learned: I was probably right not to trust technology in the first place.

So why am I sharing all this, if I'm trying to make the case that international co-ops are a great opportunity that you should absolutely go for if you get the chance? Well, because this was what I fretted about for months: all of the things that can go wrong. And it turns out I was right. Not everything went according to plan. There were annoyances, technical hiccups, and some moments of genuine panic. But here I am, sitting in the middle of a pile of luggage, eating the last of the snacks left in my apartment and waiting for my friend to come pick me and my overwhelmingly heavy bags up. It all works out.

Packing for the apocalypse

With ten days left until I leave, my packing list becomes longer, and then get cuts down, and then longer, and things get assigned to different bags, and then things get dragged back out of storage boxes, and soon enough I don't want to deal with it and you don't want to read about it. I started my packing list a month before my departure date, and it's gotten more refined; it's now color-coded based on what's going in which bag, and sub-organized based on what's going in the smaller containers within each bag. (Toothbrush and travel-size going in my toiletry case in my carry-on versus toothpaste going in my suitcase; SCUBA boots, gloves, and hood going in a mesh bag in my dive bag to cushion my fins.) Everyone has their tactics for minimizing travel anxiety. For some people, it's showing up to the airport three hours early, leaving time for every possible thing to go wrong. For some it's packing everything you could possibly need, ever--bug spray for a trip to Antarctica, anyone? My dad manages it by waking up early to pack in the half-hour before he leaves for the airport, then strolling through security twenty minutes before his flight takes off. I should add that I think his sheer confidence scares the universe into cooperating, because I've never known him to miss a flight. For me, it's overplanning. It usually works out pretty well--I've had many a potential incident averted because I had an extra copy of my ticket or knew exactly where everything was in my carry-on bag. But preparing to leave the country for longer than I ever have, I'm coming up against the same problem I did when I moved 3,000 miles from home for college: the urge to stock up on enough of everything to last the trip.

I know that this is pretty silly: I'm signed up for reports from the U.S. Travel Advisory system, and I haven't received any notifications about shampoo or coffee shortages in Ireland. But there's that lingering nervousness that something I rely on won't be available, and I think that's a common anxiety. So for anyone going international in the future, I thought I'd address when it's good to stockpile like you're bracing for the zombie apocalypse, and when you should take a step back and remind yourself that yes, most countries do have Advil readily available.

Bring: Prescription medications, or medication that isn't easily accessible where you're going. Bring enough of your prescriptions to last the trip, and if there are over-the-counters that you rely on, make sure you can get them easily wherever you're going. I had trouble finding Dramamine when I was in Ireland last summer, so since things with wheels are my kryptonite, I pretty much cleaned CVS out. A side note: make sure they're all legal! Some common medications in the U.S. are prohibited in other regions, so take the time to look it up.

Don't bring: Six months' worth of painkillers, allergy medication, or anything else you can find in any drugstore.

Bring: Enough basic toiletries (shampoo, toothpaste, deodorant) to last until you can find a drugstore.

Don't bring: Full-size bottles of every conditioner, body wash, and face scrub you own. If suitcase space is at a premium, it's not the worst idea to pack travel-size bottles, then buy more once you arrive.

Bring: A small amount of your favorite (nonperishable) snacks, if they're not available where you're going (again, make sure they're legal!). When you're homesick a couple of weeks into the trip, some familiar candy can legitimately help.

Don't bring: Peanut butter or Nutella, specifically. Yes, it's true that they're hard to find in Europe. Yes, I know people who've missed them while abroad. And yes, they will be confiscated at the airport.

That said, there are some things that, as I found out when I was in Dublin last summer, legitimately aren't easy to access in Ireland. Namely, iced coffee, peanut butter, and vegetables other than carrots and potatoes. I'm shamelessly stocking up on those by inhaling as much iced chai, Reese's, and spinach as I can. I plan to leave for Ireland hyped up on caffeine and full of greens, and I don't regret it for an instant.

In general? Trust that since billions of people outside of the U.S. seem to be doing just fine, you can probably bring the essentials and trust that either you can find the other things you're used to having, or you'll survive without them for a few months. When it comes to packing, that irritating mnemonic is true: when in doubt, leave it out.

And if you're packing for the zombie apocalypse? Look elsewhere for advice--you're on your own, and I won't be sharing my Reese's.

Hey all!

You probably found my blog in one of two ways: either you’re actively searching for blogs about Irish barnacles, which is awesome, or you found me through Northeastern’s Co-op Connections Beyond Boston Bloggers series. From August through December I’ll be working at the Martin Ryan Marine Science Center at the National University of Ireland in Galway. In addition to conducting field experiments looking at the distribution and density of several barnacle species, I’ll be building on work done as far back as 1961, as well as more recent research from 2012 and 2013.

If you’re not as much of a marine ecology fiend as I am, please don’t be scared off yet—Galway features some of the best of Ireland’s vibrant political and literary history, music and museums, and landscapes ranging from ancient rock ruins to cliffs to rivers running through the heart of the city. I’m out to experience as much of it as I can and bring it here for anyone who enjoys coffee, Irish bands, and landscape photos that make you want to jump through the computer screen. And for anyone considering an international co-op, I’ll be covering the logistics, excitement, and challenges of traveling to and working in another country.

This won’t be my first time in Galway. Last summer, on a literature- and film-focused Dialogue of Civilizations in Dublin, we took a day trip to Inishmore, a small island off the Western coast of Ireland near Galway. (I’m going to take a moment here to plug Northeastern’s Dialogues in Ireland—there are programs that focus on everything from art to literature to health and wellness, and I’d recommend everyone visit if you have the chance. Bring your raincoat.) Naturally I got distracted by some cool-looking barnacles on the shore, and took some photos so that I could look them up later (Chthamalus stellatus, if you’re wondering). When co-op season rolled around, I found a researcher in Galway who had done some work with them in the past. In a really great stroke of luck, she’d been itching to get back to that research, and was happy to take me on as a research assistant.

The barnacle that started it all. Yes, of course I kept the picture.

I hop a flight out of Boston the night of August 25^th, followed by a bus ride across the country from the Dublin airport to Galway. And for now…my bedroom is a tornado of storage boxes.

A few things to know if you’ll be following my trip:

I’m vegetarian and have some food restrictions, so I’ll be enjoying as much local food as I can within limits. Luckily, this is Ireland, so be prepared to see more ways to eat carrots and potatoes than you ever thought possible.

My least favorite part of our Dialogue in Dublin last summer was—no joke—the geese and magpies living on the university campus where we stayed. Anyone who knows me, knows that my love for wildlife stops at birds. Avoiding them might be my biggest challenge on this trip—further reports to come.

Next to marine science, travel is one of the things that gets me the most fired up. One of my childhood best friends will be working in Europe at the same time I will, and we’re trying to fit in as many weekend trips as we can. The shortlist of potential trips includes Berlin, Northern Ireland, Stockholm, and Glasgow—some of which might be more plausible than others. Suggestions that my friend vetoed include Moscow, Cape Town, Pompeii, and Cairo—something about “being realistic” and “there are only 48 hours in a weekend” and “we can’t rent our own high-speed jet on a college budget.”

We'll be making the best of all of it. Even the birds.

See you again next week,

Jules