Categories: Reflections

A Lesson from Anthony Bourdain

When the news of Anthony Bourdain’s death came flooding in, I’m sad to say I had no idea who he was. People came out of the woodwork from all sides, expressing love and well-wishes, telling stories of the times they’d dined with him, and generally leaving me wondering what I was missing out on.

As a child raised on PBS, I’d somehow managed to go 25 whole years without having ever heard of No Reservations, The Layover, or Parts Unknown. It wasn’t until after the one-year anniversary of Tony’s death that I finally decided to see what it was that made everybody love this man so much, and goodness, did I see it.

A Different Kind of Travel

From just the title of the very first episode of No Reservations (“France: Why the French Don’t Suck”), it became readily apparent to me that Tony was out to do things differently. From his conversation with an uppity French language instructor not far into the episode, it became even more so. When confronted with the litany of things he absolutely “had to do” when he visited Paris, Tony responded in a way that set the tone for the rest of the series:

I wanted to explore the Paris of locals…The most important thing to do the instant you arrive in Paris is stop, find someplace inviting, and slip comfortably into the Parisian pace of life.

Tony didn’t care about stopping by the Eiffel Tower, the Champs-Élysées, or the Louvre just because that’s what everybody expects you to do in Paris—he just wanted to slip down a quiet side street into a quiet café, and see Paris in its natural state, away from all the reservations and the lines of tourists.

I was hooked.

I instantly understood why everybody loved Tony so much; not only was his cynical humor and casually witty narrative a refreshing voice amongst travel hosts, but he encouraged us to travel differently. He encouraged us to slow down.

I think the following quote from Tony does a great job encapsulating what we at Slow the Parks are all about:

Now that you’ve slowed down, you’ll start to notice all sorts of things around you. Once you allow your senses to guide you, and not your itinerary, you may begin to find pleasure in many things you would ordinarily overlook.

Urban Jungle, Forest Jungle

On that fateful Washington trip which prompted Slow the Parks, I walked in some of the places where Tony walked. He once said that if he lived down the street from Pike Place Market’s Piroshky Piroshky, he would eat there every day for 2 months until he OD’d on flaky pastry and savory filling.

Same, Tony. Of everything I ate that trip, that’s the one I still find myself daydreaming about.

I don’t know if Tony ever visited Olympic National Park, though. Most of his adventures led him through civilization instead of the wilderness, but from the times he did spend whacking through the brush, we all saw that he brought the same sensibilities with him.

Whether you’re strolling down a crowded sidewalk or a seldom-traveled dirt path, you can find the same joy in slowing down.

“Not your Itinerary”

When I think of the National Parks trips I’ve had with Bret and Paul, the moments I cherish most are the ones we could never have planned for.

In Glacier, it was great driving up to Logan Pass and checking out the views from the top, but what I cherish more is our short detour to the top of Scenic Point above the Two Medicine lakes, on the final day of our hike, when we stopped to share a simple prayer of gratitude for the time we’d spent together.

In Capitol Reef, it was loads of fun to scan the petroglyphs while eating peaches we’d picked fresh that morning, but what I cherish more is an impromptu photoshoot near the top of Cassidy Arch, where Bret told us about the Artist-in-Residence program, and how much he’d loved speaking with a photographer who captured images of parallels between natural formations and modern architecture.

In Olympic, we had a swell time when Paul taught us how to use his new binoculars to spot hanging valleys in the distant peaks from the Hurricane Ridge Visitor Center, but what I cherish more is our late-night conversation on the banks of the Hoh River, where we first spawned the idea for an organization called Slow the Parks.