Perfecting Travel Pootling

Slow travel takes on a new meaning when you pootle. . .

We are working to perfect ‘pootling’ when we travel. Pootle, means to move slowly and without a real purpose, not too unlike wandering, rambling or meandering.

Pootling in Florence’s Oltrarno after dark.

To be honest, the older we get, the easier it is to pootle when we set out to explore a travel destination. Those younger and those more hellbent on seeing everything, might describe us as dawdling (being slow and wasting time) but I beg to differ.

We think pootling is just another form of slow travel, visiting fewer places, making deeper connections with the people, and doing it at your own leisurely pace.

While it may sound lackadaisical to those who need travel timelines and check lists, we find it both invigorating and stimulating. It reinforces our independence as we aren’t relying on tours and guides to determine what we are able to do, and what we should see. There really is a sense of freedom in setting off on your own. And it certainly helps keep the mind active, for as freeing as it is to set off without real purpose, you still must be able to find your way back to your accommodation!

As we sailed across the Indian Ocean in December - from Cape Town, South Africa to Singapore -- the heat and humidity in several ports of call encouraged pootling. One could work up a sweat just waiting for a shuttle bus to take us from the ship to the port’s entry to set off on our explorations.

The downside to pootling is that you most likely will miss the tourist sites. On the plus side are all the real sights you will see along your uncharted route. Such was our experience in Male, the capital of the Maldives.

The Maldives, an island nation made up of 26 atolls about 400 kilometers southwest of India, is famous for its pristine beaches, coral reefs and clear water. Many of our fellow passengers couldn’t resist the temptation to join beach escapades to such postcard perfect spots as Dhonveli, and Adaaran Vadoo.

What called out to us were the bustling streets of Male, the political, cultural and economic hub of the nation. We wanted to see everyday life.

Setting off early to beat the heat - and before the tourism folks arrived with maps - primed us for pootling. Our mobile phones didn’t work on shore so there was no sneaking a peak at GPS or mobile maps either. (I should note that we do research our destinations prior to setting out - we never set off without some basic knowledge of the places where we choose to pootle.)

Durban, South Africa was visited as a tour group traveling by bus.

And not all of our cruise ports of call allowed for pootling. We had far too many safety warnings before arriving in Durban, South Africa to have ventured off on our own. In Columbo, Sri Lanka, we did set off but quickly found it was impossible to walk a block without someone approaching us, introducing themselves as a banker, a real estate agent, or other professional title who offered to show us their city so that we wouldn’t be bothered by tourist touts.

Neighborhood Park, Male.

In Male we logged several tourist-tout-free miles rambling through the city past schools, shops, restaurants, garages and grocery stores. We inched along narrow sidewalks that fronted clothing and hardware stores, we stepped around the customers waiting at fast food windows, and we shopped in a small basement level grocery store. There wasn’t a tourist shop to be found. It was our favorite kind of tour!

When you pootle you have time to read signs and ponder their messages.

When you have no particular sight in mind, everything becomes something to see. Such as the two signs, pictured above and below, that caught our attention and imaginations.

So what was the sign’s message?

Those who know me in our Greek village as the crazy cat woman who carries cat food in her purse to feed hungry street cats, can probably imagine how I reacted to this sign. I immediately assumed it was against feeding street cats. I’ve learned since our visit that last year the city had a campaign against abusing street cats, so perhaps this meant not to poison them.

City beach parks and their white sand beaches.

The sidewalks widened as we returned to the sea and walked along parks with sandy beaches.

Sidewalks disappeared as we arrived at the commercial waterfront, home to stunning produce and fish markets. We made our way beside and between parked trucks, and cars, stepping around and over piles of produce to watch the loading and unloading of products.

The tender taking us back to the ship was full of happy cruisers. Some had sunbathed on spectacular beaches. Others had taken bus tours. And at least two of us had been perfecting our travel pootling.

Thanks for joining us on our Male pootle. And welcome to all our new subscribers!!