“Trust me,” said the plump woman behind the counter in a Queenstown’s boutique. “You don’t want to buy that sweater.”
“Sure I do,” I replied. “I want a fun souvenir from New Zealand and I can alway use a sweater.”
“Unless you are a ridiculous kindergarten teacher, you will take that sweater home and wonder what you were thinking.”
“I think it’s funny. I love the irony.” I couldn’t believe I was arguing with a shopkeeper about purchasing something.
“I cannot let you buy this. It will reflect poorly on my country and you will look silly. Don’t buy it.”
The colorful sweater was a bit pricey, and she was correct I don’t usually wear such bright colors. But still, it was funny.
“Don’t waste your money,” my husband said and I moved along, ultimately not purchasing anything for myself in New Zealand.
Ten years later, I know I made the right decision.
But how do you choose a suitable souvenir from a place you may never see again? And why DO we get caught up with local “crafts” while traveling and completely forget to use our brains?
Normally, I choose useful souvenirs. My favorite was the terrific beach towel we bought 30 years ago in Nantucket and fought over every time we went to the beach afterwards. It was a beautiful design, quality construction and a sensible reminder of a fun visit. I’d show you a photo, but we wore it out.
Usually, I purchase small items you can’t buy anywhere else, especially if I’ve got the adorable grandchildren in mind: a whistle from Nicaragua, an Olympics tee-shirt from Beijing. Lately, I’ve been buying pens with the city’s name on it–San Francisco pens to hand out when I go, London or Paris pens to bring back for the family. I got a great deal on Raphael’s angel umbrellas at the Uffizi art museum several years ago that were very popular. (But not so the pen with a photo of Michelangelo’s David. “What will my boyfriend say?” asked the recipient, “I can’t use a pen with a naked man on it!”).
But every so once in awhile, insanity reigns. Two years ago, I debated the wisdom of purchasing a pair of bagpipes in an Edinburgh music shop. My daughter-in-law’s eyebrows went up and she laughed, “sure, why not?”
Why not, indeed? I’m a musician. I like the reedy sound. I enjoyed hearing bagpipe music throughout the streets of Scotland and I don’t have a lot of neighbors who would be troubled by the grinding, groaning sound of a plaid bagpipe.
Should I get the real thing, or just the cheap tourist version for $10? If all else failed, I could give it to my adorable grandchild.
My daughter-in-law, meanwhile, was on a quest for small bottles of whiskey for her husband. Neither one of us knew how to choose, so we just went with the Hay family tarleton and the box of three different varieties–based on the cuteness of the bottle.
Hey, he was happy.
I sent my husband an e-mail about the bagpipes.
He laughed. So, I posted my question on Facebook: “should I buy some bagpipes?”
The usual suspects, fellow musicians in my Haugen quintet, all said, “sure,” while sensible members of my family asked me if I had lost my mind.
I could not decide and finally examined the real thing, a good “instrument” rather than a piece of junk made in the aforementioned China. It was beautiful. The store owner produced a gorgeous sound.
Nah. We were at the beginning of our trip; I’d have to carry it all through Europe. I let it go.
Today, I’m glad I did.
So are the neighbors.
My mother always used her travels (118 countries before she died) to buy Christmas ornaments. We’ve got ornaments from all over the world on our tree every year as a result. Small, relatively practical and good reminders of pleasant visits. I like that idea, too.
All we need, now, is a New Zealand sheep to go with our bungee jumping Kiwi doll . . .
Tell me about a fun, silly souvenir you brought home from a trip. How do you choose? And do you ever regret what you brought home?
Tweetables
Choosing the ridiculous souvenir Click to Tweet
Bagpipes for fun and ridicule Click to Tweet
I bought a piece of marble at a quarry in Livorno, Italy. Thought I’d use it for a coffee table or, that failing, as a cool surface to use when making candy. Only cost $10. Shipping it home? Well that was another story. The good news was that my husband made it into a beautiful coffee table and we’ve been using it for 40 years.
A piece of MARBLE? Okay, it was Michelangelo marble, but still! And they didn’t even have roller suitcases 40 years ago! You’re a trooper, Julie!
My sister-in-law bought a platter in Venice 18 months ago and had it shipped home. Somehow, they got the labels switched and she received a beautiful leather jacket (that didn’t fit) while her platter went to Japan! It took months to sort out.
My husband hauled home an entire place setting of Italian ceramic dishes once for my sister-in-law, but he was on submarine and they just stuffed it somewhere for the duration of the trip.
Too bad you didn’t know my husband then, he could have brought the marble slab home the same way! 🙂
I”ve been collecting hat pins and now have way more than I could ever put on a hat. so I made a quilted wall hanging with a US Map panel, putting the pins in their appropriate states. Problem currently is there is no wall to hang it. Second problem which one of my crazy kids would even want it after I am gone.
ASs a military wife, I’ve always gone for the small things: light and easy to move. In Germany we collected small shields for our walking sticks. Each shield has the name and a picture of the place we visited. You can fit a lot of them on a walking stick.
We collected small trinkets for our now full shadow boxes. Each child had a shadow box and a walking stick growing up. My daughter was more into the shadowbox, and my son, the walking stick.
Also I collect Christmas ornaments (only if I see one I like). I went to the Craft store at the end of season sale and bought up all the nice little Christmas boxes I could get my hands on and used old christmas cards to write something about each ornament – where i bought it, who gave it to me and what year and any other thing that made it’s acquisition memorable. I have made these same lists with the shadowbox items as well, sans the fancy boxes. I still need to get those.
Your sweater anecdote made me laugh out loud; when our girls were young, we made several trips to Disney World. We stayed on the property and immersed ourselves in all things Disney. By the end of the trip, we would manage to talk ourselves into buying something that made perfect sense in the moment that we’d never wear outside, in the real world: rhinestone mouse ears, a beautiful linen shirt with a life-size Goofy profile on the back, etc. I guess a week of walking around and seeing other seemingly normal people wearing those worked on our psyches! Disney marketing IS the best in the world…
On a more practical yet still sentimental note, I’m a Christmas ornament collector too, and I was pleased when my daughter started the same tradition when she became engaged. I love the randomness of our tree; there will never be another one just like it! I’ll have to follow Klasko’s lead and document the details of them — what a wonderful, meaningful way to celebrate the “where/when/why” details of each one and leave those memories for future generations. Or whoever buys them at Goodwill when I’m gone ;-).
OK, I need to get on the Christmas ornament bandwagon. I’m just don’t think that way–but with all these adorable grandchildren, it makes a practical solution.
When I went to China I brought back M&Ms in Chinese and things of that nature–I like to buy what you can’t pick up easily online. We brought back one hammock from Nicaragua–it was too bulky otherwise–but there wasn’t much to buy.
When I travel with friends, though, like I did to Budapest. I bought a small watercolor of Budapest–$10 maybe–which already had a matte around it. I then I had the people I was with, mostly my sister-in-law’s relatives, sign the matte. It’s framed and hanging on the wall here, along with similar small paintings from China and Nicaragua. Maybe I’ll write about that next?
Thanks for sharing. You know, Kim, I’d wear my Minnie Mouse ears anywhere. 🙂 Or at least anywhere I’d see my grandchildren.
We also buy ornaments as souvenirs. It’s so fun every year when we decorate our tree to remember where we got each one and the places and fun travels we’ve had. We don’t buy an ornament for the sake of an ornament, but it has to represent the place we’re visiting. Sometimes it’s hard to find the right thing but it’s fun searching for it.
I still have a police cap from New Zealand. Auckland was my 1st overseas liberty port. The harbor police had to keep protestors away from the ship. I had the duty that day and one of the peace officers asked if I would take him and his colleague on a tour of the ship. I said sure. So I took them around to all the non-restricted spaces. We talked a little bit about the safety of the nuclear power plant. I fed them from the chow line. At the end of the day, one of the officers asked if he could have a souvenir hat of the Longbeach. I gave him a new one I bought him. He came aboard the next day and gave me a dress uniform hat of his. Funny how you remember the life’s little moments like that.
We’ve got some items from a Japanese sub that visited Bremerton bearing gifts . . . During a trip to South America several dress hats were “accidentally” donated to somewhere during an embassy party. The XO was miffed he lost his scrambled eggs cover!