When Writing Almost Broke Me Hard at working writing From West Virginia with Love while living in Florida Writing is a fickle gig if you ask me. There was a time when I was in my early twenties and I thought for sure the publishing process would be a simple one to navigate and whatever I wrote would strike “box office gold,” for lack of better words. Well, let’s be downright honest and just say that’s not how things played out. Over the last twenty-five years of writing screenplays, novels, and blogs, I have thankfully never quit my day job. Truly, there was only that six-month period after my discharge from the Navy when I did it full-time, to no avail. Suppose you were keen enough to pick up one of my latest books, Emotional Spending: How I Broke Free from Debt and Found Financial Freedom. In that case, you’ll hear indirectly about what I did during those six months following the screenplay fairy thinking a potential Bruce Willis read was going to open up all these doors for me and the giant piggy bank in the sky. We know that’s not how things played out, as I was teaching come August with a substantially smaller wallet, and have been in the classroom ever since. There have been times over the years when I have considered giving up writing. I imagine that other storytellers go through a similar process. Is this something I enjoy doing? Absolutely, but even when I craft a story, I want other people to read and enjoy what I have created. So when eyes don’t find those pages, the ego can be a bit bruised. That’s the truth, and anyone short of Emily Dickinson would agree with that sentiment. There was a point in 2016 when I was on the verge of walking away from writing. Having just moved to Florida, I didn’t know how many stories I had left in me. Honestly, I recall having finished My Shenandoah Love the previous summer and Going Home in a six-week process. That was a phenomenal writing period. We’re talking 110,000 words in less than four weeks and then an 80,000-word book in under two. I was feeling it and living that creative dream. After a horrendous school year in which my creative energy was zapped by too many bills, debt, and a lack of clarity, I couldn’t find a way forward. In the new apartment in Land O'Lakes, I spent my Saturdays at the library, taking out books and movies, and would check my email on my phone using the free Starbucks Wi-Fi in the mall parking lot. The only television I watched was what was on PBS ― specifically, Doc Martin, a phenomenal series if you have never seen the show before. I digress. Back to the story, school was about to start, and I mapped out a storyline for What Could’ve Been. This later became From West Virginia with Love. At the time, William Chase Prince was the lead character, and it would take a few years and some tweaking before he would become Chase Jones, a third or fourth cousin to Hannah from My Shenandoah Love. I don’t remember… The vital thing to note is that the first draft was completed in about three and a half weeks, primarily through evening writing sessions and intense weekends. I was pleased with myself, rightfully so, and well, a bit drained. There was more research than I expected, especially having part of the book take place in Crimea, where I was a foreign exchange student years earlier. Again, it’s essential to write about what you know, to make the process easier. That’s what I tell my students. A Dream, a Brother, and a PromiseSeveral months passed during which I didn’t write anything because it felt more like I had downloaded From West Virginia with Love and needed to read, recharge, and, well, find a way to improve my financial situation. It’s hard to get a book editor if you don’t have any money. As the fall months shifted to winter, I found myself brooding even though I accepted my new teaching position in Italy. And yes, I know you've noticed that I have a memoir about my time living there. I know, fantastic stuff, a segue to everything… I’m playing with you a little bit. With the position acquired and knowing where I would be for the next two years, I was able to recenter myself and write A Second Chance. This was a prequel to My Shenandoah Love because Esper is Hannah’s cousin, and the book takes place in the 1990s on Manning Lake. Interestingly, for those who know about Running with Vince and my homage to my twin brother, Stephen, Esper lives on the same lake where the boys, my brother, and I spent our summers growing up. It’s all connected. While there is that familiar tie, Esper’s story was an emotional drain for me. I reflected on abusive relationships and what many people go through, especially women, and wanted to bring light to that part of life. I wanted to give hope to those who don’t have it, and use Esper as a vessel to say we all get second chances. I was relieved to finish the story, but God, was I exhausted from it all and ready to say that was the last novel. That had to have been February when that happened. A few weeks passed, and it was March when I had a vivid dream. I was in England, of all places, in one of those traditional taxis going through an old, narrow Georgian and Victorian-style street with a canal on our left. Inside the taxi, along for the ride, no less, was my twin brother Stephen. Some of you may be aware that he passed in 2005. Whenever he appears in a dream, I immediately have to hit pause and cherish the interaction, the dialogue, and whatever message he wants to convey. This dream was no different. He laughed at me and then poked me in the stomach like the joker he was and said, “Jonny boy, don’t you dare give up writing. Whatever you do. You can take a break from it, but never put it away. That’s not you.” I’m sure there were some choice words shared between the two of us on the remaining part of that dream, but what was clear was how his message struck then and resonates now, years later. Even though I was fried, I couldn’t give up storytelling. How a Fox Saved My Storytelling  As synchronistic events play out in my life, more often when I pay attention, yes, that’s a hint to all of you to be more aware of life’s winks coming your way, but it was not even a week after that dream, when an idea hit me about a talking fox and a teenage girl. An initial scene came to me while I was teaching a Geometry class, and instead of focusing entirely on the lesson, I stopped at a good point and asked my students what would have more impact on them: a dog, a bear, or a fox stuck in a hunter’s trap. Of course, I had to play up the different types of traps and what one would be more realistic and dramatic. Then I added extra, would it make a difference if that dog, bear, or fox was in that trap because it was looking for you? With little effort, the first ideas for Luza, specifically The Fox and the Girl series, were born. This is where our story gets funny. I’ll be the first to tell you, I suck at marketing my books. I have been in my share of newspapers and online interviews, but after so many Running with Vince articles, the idea of being the grief-stricken twin who was sharing his brother’s message was exhausting. Compiling that with all these heavier, adult-oriented stories, where people face challenges in their lives and take constructive steps forward to live fuller ones, can be daunting. To that end, when I created The Fox and the Girl series, the idea was to target a young audience, specifically tweens, and tie in my love for The Chronicles of Narnia. Or better yet, this was going to be an homage, fan fiction, but my spin. With these different ideas in mind, after I wrote Luza and Riley, I immediately gravitated to a pen name ― Frankie Yandow. There wasn’t even a doubt. I just figured, let’s keep the adult material separate from the kid stuff. To this day, I kick myself for this strategic mistake. It was mind-boggling, and by the time Valo and Lane came out, the third and fourth books in the series, two years later, it was a bone-headed move, one that I didn’t know how to navigate. The books never took off the way I intended, but then that’s true for most independent authors. There were plenty of free downloads, but when your target reader group is dependent on their parents to buy the books, I found myself stuck in a meta hell, because you can’t easily classify your book as both juvenile and young adult. Fast forward a few years, around the time of COVID, I changed the series title to Luza after the first book, thinking that might gain traction, and removed Frankie Yandow, staking my name as the author, rightfully so. It was over the last year, not so much about being remiss, but rather the fact that I loved the initial series name, The Fox and the Girl. My series felt lost without its real identity. Come on, the name was catchy, and as for me, I loved the imagery of the little arctic fox and the young teen girl with the long curly black hair, meeting for the first time. With this in mind, and disregarding the algorithm that has shown no love to me, we return to the original series name, featuring new covers and a premise that will allow those who need to discover the series naturally to do so. More importantly, I’m keeping a promise to my twin to keep writing, no matter what happens. 
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The Hardest Part of International Teaching Isn’t the Classroom My hometown elementary school is just like every other school I have taught in - four walls, classrooms, teachers, and students. What’s the hardest part of international teaching? It’s not the classroom. The kids are kids, the curriculum is curriculum. The real challenge begins the moment you sign that contract — and suddenly your life becomes a blur of paperwork, packing, and patience as you prepare to start over in a new country. I recall my first international school assignment. This was a several-year process. Offered a position with a company at a February conference, I didn’t feel drawn to the location being offered. I said I wanted to wait and see if any other schools they managed had possible openings. We agreed to remain in touch, and I waited. Spring transitioned to summer, and to my dismay, nothing opened up that fit my criteria. As another year began, I maintained an open channel with the same company. By November, I was instructed to reach out in mid-December to get first dibs, if you will, on their list of openings. From there, the process went quite fast. By the end of December, I had identified five different schools that fit my criteria, and so I reached out specifically regarding their schools in Belarus and Kazakhstan. I have a background in the language and have always been interested in exploring that part of the world. Alas, a day or two passed, and I received a series of emails from one of the hiring team members. They didn’t want to offer me Belarus, but instead a position in Italy, of all places. I never saw that happening. Honestly, my heart was set on former Soviet Union countries, so when they suggested that southern Italy would be a great match, I found it funny simply because this was never on my radar. My mother was pleased, but for me, it took a week to wrap my head around going to a location I not only hadn’t considered, but didn’t feel a pull to. As many international school teachers will tell you, be open to any location, because you never know what that school will bring in terms of professional and personal growth. That seems a no-brainer, but it remains solid advice. Paperwork: Your First Big Test AbroadAfter formally accepting the position and signing my contract, the fun began. The paperwork trail started the moment I signed and continued for the next eight months in a series of steps that, even for me, is boggling. For many countries, you can’t just show up and apply for the right to work. I wish it worked that way, as it would have mitigated any drama, but as you are agreeing to teach and live in a country for multiple years, there is a different path that you are expected to follow. If this is not followed exactly as prescribed, it can result in deportation and a fine for the school. What I remember about the Italy process is a blur, and yet I know I had to get all of my transcripts, copies of my degrees, teaching license, background check, and a few other items to get the ball rolling. Once those were sent off to Italy, whether by airmail or email, waiting became the common theme. Patience (and Persistence) with Visas You have to be patient, but eventually you will get to the airport as Freddo, the Arctic Fox did on our way to Italy. A valuable lesson ensued, one on the importance of patience when faced with this application process. Countries frequently revise their legal codes, and procedures sometimes become more complicated or less so, depending on the government in power. As I shared in my book Brindisi and Me, I had to go to the police station upon arrival to complete my paperwork, and this was only after I picked up my right-to-work form and number. While most of these things are out of your control, if you don’t have the paperwork ready to go, you’re just delaying the process. One thing I would suggest to make your life easier is to make sure you have a current passport. Honestly, don’t even play the it’s got six months card. You need to double-check that it doesn’t expire during that first school year. Why subject yourself to a delay that you could have taken care of well beforehand? Some countries allow entry with less than six months remaining on your passport, while others will reject you immediately. You can’t count on border patrol being charmed by your Yankee accent to allow you in for this permanent stay. Knowing this, keep an active passport with a cushioned expiration date. Second, when conducting your background check, ensure that your school provides you with the timeframe for this document. In Italy, I was fine with a generic FBI background check, as long as it was conducted during the school year in which I applied for admission. The Italians were fine with a PDF copy. Meanwhile, in Morocco, I had to ensure that my check was completed within a few weeks of my pending arrival and that it was printed on the specific type of paper. If you don’t ask for specifics, this is an easy area to screw up the application process and cause headaches during the school year when your thoughts should otherwise be focused on your lovely students. The most significant piece of advice I can share is to be proactive. For Italy, I wasn’t allowed just to show up and use the Schengen agreement. Because I would be working, our process was to apply for a multi-visit visa. Unlike some countries, where this can be done via mail, the Italians want to see your face. They also want to waste your time, but that’s a story for another day (there’s an entire chapter on it in Brindisi and Me) Honestly, I had to visit the consulate in Miami to drop off the paperwork for them to process everything and return my passport with the new multi-visit visa page. I wish it were simple, as in just showing up and dropping off everything. But it doesn’t work that way, or at least it didn’t in 2017. You had to schedule an appointment, and the only way to do so was to use the wonky website. Rest easy knowing there were no appointments for me that fit my timeline. The first one I found was a week before I was due in Italy. This was three months out. Instead, I had to perform daily checks for several weeks until an appointment became available for the following day or later in the same week. This was stressful, and all of my colleagues had to deal with the same fiasco. There was one option to show up for 8:00 am and hope they could take me, but there was no guarantee, as I saw firsthand when I was onsite meeting with the officer. If you can’t keep your documents in order and be on the ball with these applications, then you might as well stay put in the United States. This is the easy part, because once you arrive, there is so much more to process and take in between the new position and getting adjusted to life in a foreign country. Packing Smart: What to Bring, What to Leave BehindBefore we can even focus on this new life, what else should you have ready for your big move? That’s easy, pack too much. Pretend you are going to college for the first time, and pack your entire room up to be transported. I’m not kidding, you could take my approach and pack less, but you might forget something you really like or need to have with you. On all of my moves, I have only brought three bags with me, full of clothes, medicines, vitamins, soap, and pictures. Each time I wanted to gather all my books, CDs, and miscellaneous items that make a place feel like home, but I also realized that there’s an added cost to shipping additional items. This is something you will have to consider. Take a moment or two, to decide what can be left behind and what must accompany you on the journey. My stuffed animals and pillow had to make the trip, while my two boxes of books remained behind under the guest bed at my mother’s. Then again, I woefully underpacked for meds on my first overseas assignment because I just assumed the country would have the same things we had in the States. Isn’t that a joke? Don’t get me started on my third posting, which is now in Morocco, and how that story continues to unfold in the same way. Thankfully, I learned at this stage what I need to stock up on to get through the year. Walmart, anyone? Learn the Language Before You LandThe more you can plan for and have those things ready, the easier your life will be when you leave for the airport. If I can provide any further advice, I recommend getting Rosetta Stone or Duolingo on your phone and studying the language of the culture you will be residing in. There’s something said about being familiar with the dialect, as it makes you feel more welcome, more understood, and you don’t have to rely on your phone to have a simple conversation. I studied for an hour a day from January to August to prepare for my trip to Italy. Now, did that help me learn the language? Let’s just say I reverted to Russian at the first hint of Italian from those around me. Maybe you’ll have better luck. Lastly, I recommend getting a multi-currency card, such as Wise, which allows for easy transfers of money from your American accounts to an intermediary card that facilitates currency conversions. This has been a lifesaver, especially when transferring money home, paying in local currency wherever I’m staying, or visiting. I don’t have to worry that my bank card at home will be compromised. In a similar vein, for those with credit cards, I would suggest having a card with no foreign transaction fees that you can have available should you need it during your teaching assignment. Final Thoughts: Be Proactive, Be Positive On the school bus, heading to work in Brindisi, Italy. I’m confident there are more tips to share, but for right now, these were the big ones in between getting your job and the steps that lead up to that fateful flight. Be proactive, be positive, and ask questions. If you do those things, you’ll be fine.
Before I end this blog, I would be remiss to share that Brindisi and Me spent quite a bit of time on my transition to life in Italy. If you're interested in learning about these experiences, feel free to take a look at the book. As for this series about International School teaching, we have one more to go, living in a foreign country. We’ll focus on that the next time around. The Same Old Cities, Again and Again Do you even know this cutie? My fellow Americans are snobby when it comes to their travel. Being one, not a snob, but an American, I can dive into this topic and share this ridiculousness about Americans and their travel choices. Let’s be clear, I can’t tell you the number of times I've mentioned that I live in Italy, only to have people ask me about Rome, Venice, and Milan, as those were the big three that people associate with Italy. Granted, this is an older demographic, so if you skew younger, such as a social media generation, then it’s Cinque Terre, Siena, and Florence. Come to think of it, Tuscany is said way too much as well, like it’s a catch phrase. I love my nephew dearly, but when I found out he was going to these hot spots in Italy, or at least some of them, I rolled my eyes and said to myself, “You’re missing the real Italian life.” It’s true. While I have been pushing Brindisi and Me quite a bit, this isn’t a go-to Puglia plug; this is just a venting blog about Americans who need to get out of the tourist hotspots and find another city or region, other than what their friends did last year or they saw on TikTok. Hidden Gems Are Everywhere Lake Ieso is like living in a dream A friend of mine recently returned from Bulgaria and thoroughly enjoyed the entire experience. I can guarantee you it wasn’t overcrowded, like the Spanish Steps or for those trying to get a photo of the Coliseum. Pick your battles. If you want to travel and see different places, you don’t have to go off the beaten path, but at least pick up a map and consider other options. Let’s take France for a moment. I will share that there was a time I fantasized about a trip to Paris. A true romantic, how could I not? I even booked a trip to Paris, but when a chance to visit Vilnius opened up for the same weekend, I didn’t even flinch. My love for Vilnius is well known, but back to Paris. I recall watching Ethan Hawke and Julie Delpy in Before Sunset, as they walked the streets and along the River Seine. It was lovely, and downright inspiring. The frugal traveler in me, the one that doesn’t want to break the bank, won’t even consider a trip, because I’m too old to stay in a hostel (at least one there lol), the apartments are overpriced, and the price point for a decent hotel is not worth the effort when you can still see France and get a feel in other places where the locals don’t actually hate you. Cue, Carcassonne. Talk about a lovely little city, an hour or so from Toulouse in southern France. Last October, I was delighted to get that as a stopover. The food was terrific, both on the first night and at lunch the next day, before I decided to dive in and eat some closed mussels, as if it were amateur night. Any New Englander knows not to eat mussels from a closed shell, but why not? Who cares if they taste a bit off? My stomach and intestinal tract the next morning weren’t too pleased. Guess which guy didn’t bring any stomach medicine, and all the pharmacies were closed because it was Sunday? Yeah, this guy. That aside, what a beautiful city. I fell in love with the quaint old town area, its river path, and, drum roll, please, the castle with restaurants, shops, and everything in between, just a short walk across the river. There were people there, but not the crowds you get elsewhere in France, and these were just locals out for their Saturday stroll. With a bit of research, you can find gems that offer the French or Italian experience without the financial drain and the overwhelming nature of crowds and high tourist season. Does anyone know about Lake Iseo in northern Italy, or are you too fixated on Lake Como and that area? I created a vlog about the small city of Iseo and explored the area to show that you can enjoy a great meal, spectacular views, and avoid the crowds by simply traveling a few hours away from Milan. It’s easy, you just have to be adventurous, and even though this is not adventurous, it’s a calculated measure. I can say the same thing for England. I’ve mentioned before that I’ve only been to London once, but I've visited England six times. Just like the same travelers back home who harp on Rome and Tuscany as the end-all of Italy, London is not the United Kingdom. It’s not even really England. The one time I went there for a holiday weekend, I stayed near Hyde Park, and I didn’t hear any English. No joke, it was all foreigners everywhere I went. That’s not authentic. The prices certainly are higher; that’s a given. Now, why don’t you fly into Manchester or Liverpool and visit either of those cities? Personally, I prefer Liverpool being right on the water, and I'm a big fan of the Beatles. That’s a place I can wrap my head around and enjoy. Did I mention people are friendly there? They are also, for the most part, clearly locals, making for a more refreshing experience. Then again, you can go somewhere smaller like Llandudno, Southport, Morecambe, and get wrapped up in a different vibe, or head to the Midlands and visit Nottingham or Leicester. People who genuinely want to experience a country, rather than just check a box so they can brag to their friends that they went to a particular location and spent a lot of money, will get precisely what I’m talking about. This is why I bang my travel drum on countries like Poland, Slovakia, Lithuania, Latvia, and Estonia. You see historical cities and towns, with easy transportation methods, great food, and a unique energy that doesn’t pull the same soul strings as Western European spots. Every time I hear someone say they've been to Lisbon, Madrid, or Barcelona, I ask, “Have you been to the Balkans? Going to Tirana or maybe Belgrade?” There’s a counter to these madhouse places where the locals aren’t keen on tourists, except for taking your money at overpriced restaurants or tourist traps, or worse, literally stealing your wallet and electronics, because they see you as targets. Do you want some fresh fruit that will leave a lasting memory? Go to Durres, Albania. Watermelon tastes like pure natural sugar water in that seaside vista. I would go back just to get the watermelon, and I can’t stomach it in the States. You want Greece? Why go to a dirty, crowded city like Athens, when you can sneak up to Thessalonki and then spend an overnight trip in a small village like Agia Triada where the stray dogs will hit you up for a food toll, but the cold beer, the fresh seafood, and the majestic water of the Aegean Sea will leave you with a lasting memory and no hangover from crowds and congestion. Rethink the Way You Travel The Irish Sea is a sight to be hold from the Great Orme Americans, in particular, need to get off the travel bandwagon. If I read one more article about the overcrowded hot spots in Europe over the summer months Americans are flocking to, even though it’s downright miserable to travel to many of these places during that frame, I might just hide my head in the Moroccan sand until the winter comes again. Honestly, do we really need to read another blog about how small the hotel room was and how there was no air conditioning? Did you not look over your listing at Booking.com? Better yet, did you conduct any research, or was it just “Let’s go where everyone else goes?”
I wouldn’t be so adamant about his topic, but when do you think Europeans travel? Newsflash: they also take a holiday in the summer. Why not think outside the box and go during the off-season when at least the kids are back in school? Is it really necessary to play this overseas travel game during the same time frame? Wow, I didn’t realize how worked up I get on this topic. I suppose I just want to get off the beaten path, or at least avoid running into a bunch of fellow Americans in the exact location when I happen to be exploring Europe and other parts of the world. The goal is to experience new places, new cultures, and, of course, culinary delights. If you want to see other Americans, then so be it; hit the major cities, just like everyone else, at the exact high times of the year. Go for it, and you’ll miss out on what traveling is intended to be and what it can show you about yourself and your connection to the world. I could be wrong, but that’s my two cents on the topic, and I’m sticking to it. How to Find International School Teaching Jobs  International School Teaching is a unique experience that I highly recommend to any teacher who has lived the public school dream in the United States. I’m not saying do it forever, but consider a two-year stint to experience living in another culture and exploring another part of the world. Even before embarking on this cycle of international assignments, I had already traveled extensively, dating back to my college and high school years, so the concept of living overseas wasn’t as foreign to me as it is for many. Then again, my preconceived notions about what certain places would have and how they matched up to life in an affluent part of New Hampshire are another story entirely. Still, I’ll be the first to say that each stint teaching overseas has given me a greater perspective on life outside of the bubble, and I think it not only improves my classroom teaching but also allows me to share with my students that they are part of a global community. We can’t lose sight of that in 2025, not with the internet and social media. We can’t shut ourselves off from everywhere else, even if people want to do just that. To that end, we are here for round two. You’ve decided you have the experience, the credentials, the education, and the motivation to live overseas. The big question is how to find a suitable position. Note that I wrote 'suitable,' not just a position. That’s the key to all of this. You can find any job with a cursory search, but what is the best fit for you? Here is a list of websites I’ve used and would recommend when doing your search. Where to Start Your Search Teacher Horizons - I discovered them this past year, as my current employer utilizes them, and many schools in Morocco do as well. What I like about the website is its search database, particularly the ability to search by school type. If you want to keep it broad, there are over 4100 schools to research. Focus on the kind of curriculum you want, such as the American curriculum. That will narrow down your list to a thrifty 700+ schools. Alternatively, you can open the door with your QTS and explore the abundance of British curriculum programs available on that site. Suppose you actually create a profile and upload your CV. In that case, you can gain access to the benefits, including salary information, the overall package, and perks such as a free round-trip flight, housing allowance, and even retirement contributions. This site is thorough and easy to navigate. What I appreciated most was the section on frequently asked questions, where current or former staff members shared their insights into life at their schools. Not all schools have these sections, but those that do give you a nice look under the proverbial hood. If you have no idea where to start or what’s available, I would say this is a good option, especially since it’s free. Then again, I enjoy conducting research without incurring any costs. Speaking of free, if you are doing this search for the first time, you don’t have to pay to find a job. Let’s be clear on this because I feel like, through word of mouth, the “in” thing is to immediately jump on the Search Associates, Schrole, ISS bandwagon, which you do not need to do, to find a position. You can and are welcome to, but you will incur a fee to access their listings through their services. Frankly, if this is your first rodeo, there are plenty of free alternatives with ample schools to choose from and research. My motto is this: if I have to pay to do this, when I can contact the school directly, that’s a waste of money. A better alternative, especially for American educators, is to review the State Department's listing of Overseas Schools. That’s how I started my research in 2008. I visited the website and clicked through each school associated with the U.S. Department of State. I figured that if the US Government were contributing to these schools through tuition payments for the employees of embassies or consulates stationed overseas, then those schools would be acceptable to me. Let’s be honest, would it hurt to do an initial search to see what those schools are and actually click on their websites? Not at all. You will find that many of these schools post openings, and you can contact them directly through their listings. Perhaps it’s old-school, but I prefer the direct approach for a couple of reasons. This shows initiative, and it also sets you apart. These schools that work with various hiring services receive a large number of potential interviewees, but it’s also a shared pool. By contacting the school directly, you may receive a valuable email that could lead to a job, not just this hiring season, but also in the following one. What do you know, they just found out there’s an opening in June, and you are now on the list to be contacted. Again, I’m in favor of researching schools and contacting them directly. You don’t have to do it, but it doesn’t hurt your chances. Recruitment Fairs and Services  If you want to use a service and are based in the United States, a valuable experience would be to check out the University of Northern Iowa Overseas Teaching Fair. This year marks their 50th anniversary of hosting a hiring fair, so they know what they are doing. If memory serves, they are the oldest fair in the world for international teaching positions. I recall hearing about them in 2002, when a colleague of mine was seeking a teaching job for the upcoming school year. He attended the fair, had several interviews, and then accepted a position, which he held for four or five years in Central America before transitioning to another post in Central Europe. It works. I have used UNI twice and have secured positions directly through them or as a result of their connections. What’s nice is that if you register early, it’s free. Scratch that, on their website, after October 1, there is a $25 charge. Then again, that’s still reasonable because it provides access to schools in their database that will be attending their fair in early December. The way it works is that positions will be posted from the time some schools sign up, up to and after the fair. You can express interest in the positions and be considered for those schools, or you can contact them directly using the provided contact information. It’s a lovely service, one with enough information to give any novice to international school teaching peace of mind. My favorite part of the entire experience is that you don’t have to attend the fair to use their services and to get the ball rolling. I interviewed for multiple positions in October and November, the last time I used their service. Newsflash: at the time, their fair wasn’t even until the first week of February. (This year, it’s the first week of December). If I were recommending any other services to newbies that I have used and like, it would be Carney Sandoe & Associates, based in Boston. I have attended their fairs in the past for boarding school positions in the United States, but they also list international schools. That might be worth checking out, especially since they will assign a person to work with you on the schools you are interested in applying to, the subjects, and possible destinations. When I did it there was no upfront cost, which was a plus. TIE Online - The International Educator is also a good website to visit and sign up for. I have used them in the past for research and to gain insight into various job postings. There is a charge, but you might find it worthwhile. I would put Teacher Horizons above this, but it all depends on how involved you want this search to be. Final Thoughts and Next StepsFinally, I would suggest that if you are interested in other people’s questions about international school teaching positions, across the spectrum, take a look at the message board on the International Schools Review. Aside from hours of entertainment, you can get a fascinating picture of what to expect, look for, and the dos and don’ts of the entire international teaching realm. I do caution you that if you subscribe to the school reviews, some of those should be taken for what they are: a forum for disgruntled employees, schools trying to offset those nasty comments, and people who actually had decent experiences. Still, I enjoyed reading them all, bad and good. That’s about all I can share on getting started for your job search. Do your research, get a list of people who will recommend you with current contact information, and apply early and often. Use a service if you think it will help, or contact the schools directly. Either way, be prepared for a lengthy process, depending on your major, experience, and career goals. If you are a single history or English major, it might be a long road. Good luck! In the following two blogs of this four-part series, we will focus on what happens after you get the job and what life is like at your first posting. If you can’t wait for that and want to see what I experienced firsthand in Italy, check out Brindisi and Me. That was a real awakening for me.  I almost flew to Latvia for a writing retreat — until my book told me not to. The Retreat That Never Happened A funny thing happened to me in the last six months of my time living in Brindisi. There was some uncertainty in my job search as I looked to return to the States full-time, and for whatever reason, my mind and soul wanted to cocoon and write as much as possible. I still remember it well for that February vacation. I was all ready to head to Riga, Latvia, for a four-day writing retreat. Even now, I can still see that bucolic, charming hotel with the brick recessed walls and kick myself for not hopping on the plane at that exact moment. Instead, I stayed home and wrote. Honestly, I started writing Valo, the follow-up to Riley, and the next thing I knew, I didn’t want to break the creative energy. Where I should have been leaving for the airport, I was lying on my chaise, stretched out, typing away on the computer with a notebook filled with notes and the outline for the rest of the series. The entire week consisted of writing in the morning, followed by a short break, then writing in the afternoon, another break, and finally another session in the evening. I was doing eight to ten thousand words a day. No joke, it just spilled out of me, and in less than ten days, Valo was done, and I was onto Lane. Sometimes the writing process just works this way, and for that I was grateful. Even after the vacation concluded, I maintained a solid writing schedule after work for the remainder of February to complete the drafts for the series, The Fox and the Girl. The End of Brindisi and the Beginning of VarissiI’m not sharing this to toot my own horn, but to point out when I get locked in, it’s hard to come up for air until the story is complete. As winter gave way to spring, the fact that I was leaving Brindisi became clearer. While I enjoyed some aspects of the area and loved the school, those idiosyncrasies of Italian living had shifted from charming to a giant pain in the backside. With the rosy glow of watching Luza and Keira’s story come to an end, I needed to get something to balance me out in the closing months of the year. Many educators will share that the school year is a roller coaster and a cycle one gets used to, but it also brings different periods of high stress. The end of the year is a mad sprint with a gluttony of events mixed in with your classes, and so many changes between students leaving and, well, teachers. Think about the range of emotions. In this case, in Brindisi, where a large expat community attended this close-knit school, the energy shifted between excitement and mourning. To that end, I needed a story to keep me sane. Sometime around this period, I wanted to move away from the tween and young adult audience and have some fun with a genre I love, or have fawned over because of Star Trek: Deep Space Nine and Star Trek: The Next Generation. Where The Fox and the Girl is glorified fan fiction of The Chronicles of Narnia, The Marcus Files screams Star Wars, Star Trek, and Babylon 5 in between. Being in a different world, in the future, having the same challenges we face daily but magnified thirtyfold, is a literary delight. Brindisi Becomes VarissiEven so, I find I always write about real locations I have lived in because it’s easier to use a known commodity and then adapt it to the characters and their lives. Not to dwell on Luza, but the entire book takes place on the same lake where I spent my summers as a child. Described to the t, the characters are fictional, but those mountains, the dirt roads, the water—everything save the whistleberry—was true. I did the same thing with The Vincent Chronicles, especially Swimming With Angels, which is in the exact location. Oh, and A Second Chance, too. My Virginia and West Virginia-based books are from places I have taught or explored in detail. So it shouldn’t come as a surprise that The Varissian Affair, the first book of my trilogy, took place on an alien planet called Varissi. What do you think that rhymes with? Even the apartment I put Tahir in is a model of my own in southern Italy, just spiced up with future technology. And the streets he walks in and the tunnel he has to defend himself are based in Materdomini, where I roamed. In a way, it’s a bit humorous because that first chapter of the book was filled with frustration and angst, just the way I felt as I transitioned away from my super loud apartment and neighbors who didn’t give two hoots about me. Every interaction Tahir has with the locals is madness, especially when he hears them just yelling, “Bada baba badba.” I wonder who went through that daily? I share this because, without having lived in Brindisi and experienced life there, I would not have been in a position to delve into Tahir’s living situation, his being stranded on an alien planet. Sure, I spiced things up and overplayed the locals, but in a book, a science fiction series no less, anything goes. From Pandemic to Publication Again, we write what we know. The cosmic humour in it, though, is that I only got through the first chapter before the closing events of the school year took over my inspiration and need to write. I had to put my focus on the annual cycle, goodbyes, and the transition home. There was no room for that headspace, the one I would need to continue Tahir’s life in Varissi, until I was settled again in my new home. Strangely enough, I wasn’t in the proper headspace for another two years, and that was only in the middle of the pandemic, where I had an adequate writing nook and the time to allow myself to reenter that world. Here’s the funnier part of this story. When the pandemic was at its peak and the school year began with hybrid teaching, I was often home by 3:00 p.m. My head was clear, so I told myself I would participate in National Novel Writing Month, but I had to clear up some previous story ideas before taking on a science fiction series. Surprise, surprise, Brindisi and Me went first. I dictated that book with ease, even when the dictation software failed me, and the book itself languished in purgatory until this past year, when it was finally revised and published. That was the beginning of October. By the third week of the month, I was on to Seli. That’s right, for whatever reason, I slid into the follow-up book on what happened with Keira and Luza years after the conclusion of Lane. That took me until the last week of November. Then, everything fell into place. Tahir and I were ready to take on the Varissians and dive into his internal and external struggle to get off that blasted planet, finally. Fact Leads to FictionIf you want to have some fun and love to read, reading Brindisi and Me, a non-fiction memoir of my life living in Brindisi for two school years, versus The Varissian Affair will make you smile. The range of emotions I experienced while living in Brindisi is evident, and likewise, how they would manifest in a science fiction novel would make perfect sense. You can love a place, but also hate it at the same time. Then again, Tahir never loved Varissi. It was a job he didn’t want or ask for, but he was true to his assignment and service. I think I know another guy who wasn’t too game at first on Italy. Go figure, there it is again, fact leads to fiction.
Want to see Brindisi through both lenses? Pick up my memoir Brindisi and Me for the real-life version — and dive into The Varissian Affair for the sci-fi one.  My lovely living room apartment in Poland - when I taught in Krakow I need to be honest with you about what it’s like to be an international school teacher. Let’s be as clear as possible. It’s an experience, a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity for many educators, and I’m living that dream at present. Currently in my third stint overseas, year five (but not continuous), I’ve lived in three different countries and experienced the highs and lows of not being home for holidays and being away from family for extended periods. My family jokes that it’s like I’m back in the service, and these are two-year postings from one location to the next. In a way that summarizes life succinctly. So You Want to Teach Abroad? Here’s What Schools ExpectI could write quite a bit on that topic alone, but for today, to serve my fellow educators, it would be more beneficial to share how the recruitment process works. This isn’t like the public school world, and it’s certainly not like boarding schools either. The hiring process is different, the timeline is different, and there are specific requirements you need to meet to get your foot in the door. This isn’t going to focus on teaching English as a second language, peeps. There’s plenty of content for that crew, and, for that matter, numerous resources are available for educators, far different from what I first experienced in 2008 when I was figuring out how this all works. I want to stipulate that much of this is in the vein that you likely have a dream school that is one of the top schools in Europe or Asia. Before you take any action, temper your expectations with the understanding that there are only a limited number of openings and you’re not the only one applying. With that stated, and knowing that not everyone’s CV is going to check the boxes, but they might still get their dream position, here are some general guidelines to help you on your quest. Let’s do this. Education Requirements for International School TeachersIf you want to teach overseas, you typically need a four-year degree, ideally in the subject you plan to teach or in education. You can be the exception to the rule and have a degree in history with a certification in mathematics. I know someone who falls into that category (this guy), but there won’t be as many countries open to you simply because the visa rules stipulate what educators must have. Trust me on this one; I had an interview for a school in Albania years ago, and we couldn’t take it any further because my certification didn’t match the degree requirements. My experience meant nothing; the diploma did. Teaching Certifications That Open Doors OverseasYou need your certification. Especially if you are coming in as a foreign hire, don’t make your life more complicated than it needs to be. Having a full teaching certificate opens up numerous potential opportunities. Heck, go crazy, also apply for your QTS, which is the English equivalent, and open even more doors. It’s true that if you hold an experienced teaching license, you can, for the most part, apply online and within a short time frame be awarded a QTS in England. From what I gather, this never expires, and you can teach anywhere in England or, more importantly, at overseas British schools. Didn’t consider that route, did you, now. Why Classroom Experience Matters (More Than You Think) Experience — I’m not trying to bring you down a notch or two, but if you want to be considered seriously for your dream scenario, a minimum of two years is key. I would say if you have three years of experience, ideally at one school, you’ll have more opportunities than someone who simply wants to teach overseas and is marketing their summer camp and intern teaching experience as enough to deal with their first posting. Let’s be real here, as real as possible. Those first few years of teaching at a boarding school or a public school are a safe proving ground for you to learn your craft better, understand and experience the full cycle of the school year, and acquire some classroom management skills. When you don’t have that experience, you were likely hired because it’s late in the hiring cycle, you’re a warm body, and that’s better than nothing. This doesn’t mean you won’t do a good job, but it’s also going to be an uphill battle for many. I must say that this happens more often than you think, because the more qualified candidates receive better job offers. Your employers might not tell you this, but let’s be frank, if I have a teacher with five to ten years of experience or someone who has none, I’m not hiring the new guy to learn their craft and get used to an entirely new living environment overseas if I can avoid this scenario. That’s a way to set yourself up for failure. Then again, if you have a teaching spouse, who is in math or science, that's an entirely different scenario. Let's just pretend you are a single teacher with less than two years experience. :) Location: Where First-Time Teachers Can Actually Land JobsLocation matters. Well, it does, right? I mean, I’m sure you want Europe for your first posting. You can teach in Paris, roam the tree-lined streets, and have a morning croissant on your way to work. Just imagine the ambiance — oh, how amazing! But it’s not going to happen for the majority of applicants, if any. If you don’t have experience, don’t even bother looking in Western Europe. Even if you are a candidate for a position, just realize the benefits are not the same compared to other parts of the world, and with the cost of living, your potential savings are going to be nil. I’m not trying to be negative, but again, this is reality. Without a substantial number three and a degree that sets you apart, maybe in math or science, better yet with experience in middle school ages or IB, you might have a long road trying to find a suitable place for your first overseas gig. It’s doable, for sure. I don’t want you to think it’s not, but you will have to be open to Asia, Africa, South America, and everywhere else in between. Then you have to decide what’s more important: the experience, the money, the overall cost of living, or the dream you have concocted for yourself. Should you have your heart set on a single location and it’s incredibly competitive, all I can say is good luck, and maybe next year or the year after that. International Hiring Season ExplainedThis one caught me off guard the first time around. I expected it to be like the boarding school world, where most jobs would be posted in the spring. Nope, not so much, at least not the schools you dream of going to. I will add a caveat here: this doesn’t mean there aren’t good schools with jobs available in the spring, but these are the equivalent of a good luck dragon that shows up unexpectedly. The bulk of the hiring season begins in late fall and early winter. At one school where I worked, we had to submit our intentions for the upcoming school year by the end of September. I’m not kidding. I had been teaching there for a month, and already I had to decide whether I wanted to return for year two. Other schools do it later, in November or December, or even in January, but for the most part, it’s commonplace to share your plans in the fall so that they can start interviewing and finding candidates. This is really important to keep in mind, because if you don’t know this part of the process, you miss out on the fact that candidates interview for these open positions in October, November, and into January. Two of my three teaching positions overseas were done by the middle of January. The third one was the unexpected gift horse in March. To put things in greater perspective, on my last hiring cycle, I started interviews the first week of October. This also means that you should prepare your CV, resume, teaching philosophy, and reference contacts by September if you want to be ready for the hiring season. If you want to consider more options and be a candidate, this is the way to go. Final ThoughtsA big fan of five things, that’s where we will stop for today. This is just the proverbial tip of the iceberg. We haven’t discussed where to look for a job or what to expect in your first year teaching overseas. This will be later, I promise. We also didn’t dive into the entire transition going from the USA to wherever you are calling your new home. I’ll cover it in a series of future posts. In the meantime, if you can’t wait and are interested in learning more about my experience teaching overseas and indoctrinating myself to life in Italy, Brindisi and Me might be worth a look.  Click on the book to find out more
Many travelers will share that certain places carry more weight and have more value, because they take a lasting memory that means more to them than even a childhood dream or event. Sometimes I wonder whether I have achieved this gravitas in some areas more than others. It doesn’t take long to realize that, of course, many places stand out, especially after completing a recent trip, such as my Friday overnight adventure to Gibraltar. For me, it’s when I’m traveling to other locations, new or old, that those trivial moments from previous trips take hold. The weight of those areas resonates the most and reminds me of what truly touches my soul at a deeper level. I have no choice but to phrase it this way, especially as my recent trip, while an interesting one, felt more business-like than a life-long marker. I didn’t leave wanting more, nor any desire to return and walk those streets. Don’t get me wrong, Gibraltar was fine enough, but it didn’t sing to me like Carcassonne where I felt the pulse of the small city the moment I stepped onto the bus and watched the thunderstorm pound away at the quaint streets and left a watery path for me to follow on my way to a front street bistro that remains one of my favorite meals to date. I couldn't care less about the falling rain, as these ancient streets with magnificent, leafy, and vibrant trees, featuring massive branches that appeared ready to snatch you up and hug you to morning, were undeniably difficult to ignore. Gilbraltar, on the other hand, was meh. Maybe it’s the heaviness of being a place where so many battles took place and rebuilding layers upon layers on those walls, the fort, and other areas of the region. I simply didn’t feel the love. To me, it came across as a glorified theme park, a region of Universal Studios, if you will, where Great Britain is the theme. That’s what it felt like, even in the parks, the cemetery, and with the waterfall on the far end of The Rock. First Glimpses of Vilnius: A City That Stayed With Me For me, genuine love of a location comes from an immediate understanding. One can just look out the window from a taxi or bus and see that where they are means something more. I have that feeling for Vilnius. If there’s one city that struck a nerve and made me want to return for more, Vilnius has to be that place. Strangely enough, I got glimpses the first time I went, and not necessarily in the way one would think, when I brought a group of students for a Math Counts competition. We were accommodated at the Radisson Blu Hotel, and after settling into our rooms, we crossed the street to the CUP mall for food and some exploration. This was a low-key affair, for sure, but sitting in the booth waiting on pizza and other snacks created an ambiance I didn’t expect. There was a touch of playfulness in the air and yet a stillness I hadn’t felt all winter until that moment. It might have been from the embankment below, with the beautiful Neris River in the darkness of early February, that made things interesting. There was more going on than meets the eye, and I could sense that from the very beginning. This was so much the case that shortly after the meal, I took all the students for a walk along the river towards Gediminas’ Tower. Despite the high water mark of the river (thankfully, I couldn’t tell how high it was until morning), the magnificent path towards the old center brought a calmness I had never felt with a group of students present. There was a flow to the water that matched my pace. If not for the students, I’m sure I would have stayed longer along the water’s edge and gone closer to the many churches and cafes that lined the inner quarter of the city. Vilnius always had more layers than what first met the eye. On a later visit, I found a park in Užupis that carried the same stillness I felt that first night.  By the time the next morning came, I was hooked. And it wasn’t because of some magical moment, although the power going out in the building at four in the morning was something to remember. The entire block went black. The boisterous lights from the mall flickered out, and all the buildings around us, the skyscraper lane, went incognito in a matter of seconds. I’ll admit, I was unsure what to take from the events playing out before me. I simply put on my running gear for the chilly twenty-something-degree weather and went out to find the stillness in the area and get the overall vibe before the day got ahead of us. While my run was an interesting one, the darkness persisted after my return. There was no getting around the fact that I couldn’t even get into my room without using the stairs. Then it hit me: the students, as they shifted to school mode, would be stirring and would need answers to why their rooms were indefinitely dark. Now you try going up to the 16th floor to check on a group of tweens who had no idea what was going on. I’ll never forget scaling those steps, but I was still aware that this was simply an inconvenience and not the end. This was the motto for the trip. Leaving the 16th floor to check on other students on the 8th or 9th floor, because the hotel didn’t understand we wanted our students placed together, brought more laughter than annoyance. Maybe next time, they’ll understand better why schools wish to keep their students on the same floor—either way, it gave us all an experience to remember. For me, it was just a different wink to consider. Sure, we explored the city, got a feel for the cobblestones, and the old churches with artwork that would stir even the most hardened soul. But the final memory that got me was on the morning we were leaving. For one, I was relieved the power had returned, and that we were done with the competition. I wanted more time in the city, because playing chaperone doesn’t give you time or space to explore and discover as a solo trip would. In the meantime, leaving our hotel in the early morning hours for a walk to film a short vlog left a permanent etch. Cold, only fifteen or eighteen degrees, there was a distinct chill in the air, enough to remind me that the scarf I brought was a necessity, as were the black pair of gloves to protect me from the elements. It was so cold that I didn’t even know if my camera would work, and yet I walked down from the hotel, across the pedestrian bridge, and then turned right onto an adjacent street. There were no miracles along this path. Instead, there was familiarity and a sense of peace. The rusted orange colors, or they appeared as much to my color spectrum, of the Dominican Church of St. Philip and St. Jacob left me in awe. With a few perfectly placed spotlights, this church appeared as an icon in the early morning darkness. There was no need even to try the locked doors, because it was enough to take in the sight of the remodeled beauty and go back to what it must have felt like when the church was first built and parishioners made their morning or weekly pilgrimage. Time was not on my side that morning, knowing that it was a matter of minutes until I had to reunite with my students, get some breakfast, and then head to the airport for the flight home. A seventeen-minute walk in the frigid temps, the last morning of a two-night visit, opened my eyes and heart to a city I would need to visit again and again. Why Vilnius Feels Like an Old FriendThere was barely a glimpse, but there was understanding. For that, I continue to return and embrace what Vilnius has to offer, from the varied architecture, the exquisite churches, historical monuments, and places that force you to reflect, may it be the old Jewish cemetery pilfered by the local government for buildings and roads, to the distinct crosses on the hill for the first martyrs. Vilnius stirs the soul more than any other city I have walked and enjoyed. For that, I’m forever grateful. As for Gibraltar, we can’t win them all, but at least I gave it a go and that’s something, right? We don’t always know which places will claim us, but when they do, they linger like an old friend in the corner of the room. For me, Vilnius is that friend—quiet, steady, impossible to forget. What about you? Which city still whispers your name, long after you’ve left its streets? At the very least, take heart knowing that traveling is a blessing for us all. It opens our eyes to the familiar and the unknown, making it all coherent in a way that meets us where we are and where we're going in the days ahead. If words aren't enough, here's the walk itself - through the very streets, river, and church that claimed me on that first visit. It's the last ten or so minutes if memory serves.  Well, it finally happened. That’s right, this guy left Tangier and ventured out into the big world of Morocco. Did I go south to Marrakesh? No way, I would be way overstimulated, and I didn’t venture to the mountains of Fez. No, it was far easier to escape to the magic of Asilah. Wait, you haven’t heard of Asilah? Neither had I, but my coworkers raved about the place and how beautiful it was, a much quieter place of refuge from the busyness of Tangier. We had a holiday in between in-service, and I took the plunge and agreed to the overnight trip. Getting There Let me tell you a few tips for those traveling to this city. To get to Asilah, you can do a couple of things: take the train, or get a taxi, unless you plan to drive it yourself. It’s about forty-five minutes away, whichever route you take. In our case, we had train tickets. We even went to the train station and got through the crack ticket checkers who waved us on to our train. Lo and behold, we got on that monster, not as lovely as the Al Boraq and that’s when the fun started. Train Troubles We waited for what felt like an hour for this old timer to get her bags in order. After building a sandcastle out of bags, she pushed into me as an exclamatory mark, because it was far easier to do that than to motion for me to take a step back, unaware I was standing in front of her seat. Who cares if there was a line in both directions? I digress . . . We continued to walk to our seats, and I spotted the seat numbers like any responsible passenger. A young family was sitting in our seats. Calmly, we showed them our tickets to prove that we would be riding in that very spot. Do you know what happened? Yes, a major traveling blunder. Honestly, it happens to the best of us. We booked the wrong week for the train tickets. Retreating as fast as we could, we departed the train. We could have hopped on and just played stupid and dealt with a conductor mid-route, but honestly, it wasn’t worth the effort. Truly, I wasn’t even miffed about the mix-up; I was annoyed that the security detail waved us through after looking at our tickets. Shouldn’t you know what the date is? :)  Taxi Tango Then the decision had to be made: do we wait for the next train, which was three hours later, or find another means to get there? As savvy travelers, the following line item was taxis. Now, let me share that I have no issue using the Grand Taxi. In fact, I go out of my way to use them in the city. I don’t mind paying the price because they are licensed. You getting my drift here? But you know we want to be like the locals and use those Uber-like apps that aren’t Uber or Bolt. Oh, what I would do for either one of those here in Morocco. Anyway, I digress. Instead, Careem and inDrive are ride-sharing services that are a legal entity, yet not fully, considering that they are often criticized by city taxi drivers when they are spotted on their routes. How many times did I have to pay my driver at the turn to the airport as opposed to getting out of the car at the airport? Every single trip last year when I used their services. Case in point, our alternative driver didn’t want to pick us up in front of the train station. That would be too obvious and blatant. We decided to go across the street towards the McDonald’s. I spotted him five minutes later when he slowed down and then continued driving because a taxi driver was behind him. Again, you can’t be “caught” picking up people or something of the sort. We had to walk another few minutes down the road and wait for our driver to do a magical loop until he felt safe to pick us up. Now, because this isn’t really Uber or Bolt, you are supposed to sit in the front passenger seat with your new buddy. Sometimes, you actually introduce yourself to the driver to get his name and vice versa. This isn’t for pleasantries; it's so that if you get pulled over by the police, you know this is your friend, not your driver. It’s all ridiculous if you ask me. Honestly, it's also not worth the headache for the potential price savings, which isn’t that dramatic for tourists or expats. Back to the trip to Asilah ― I was car sick within minutes. Our driver decided he knew the back roads, or he simply wanted to avoid certain entities, and took us on a convoluted route through the back side of the city, over every pothole and speed bump that Tangier had to offer. Let’s not forget the section where the road was in good shape, and it was time to race up a hill to pass a tractor-trailer. My stomach gets queasy thinking about this route just to come out near the airport and swing a left onto the main road. We could have taken the more scenic route at the circle, which I recommend if you have a choice. Seeing the ocean and the hues of the water is really worth the detour, and perhaps a more direct route (I would opt for the latter), but our driver took us on the highway for that unique experience. Hey, at least I saw a few camels roaming the fields and a couple of horses. The drive was certainly more user-friendly than the train, even if I felt like I was going to throw up by the end. I say that because the train doesn’t take you to the center of Asilah. You still are going to have a good fifteen minute walk, maybe twenty, depending on your speed, on a road that has some seriously overgrown bushes, some questionable drivers, and a short adventure across what used to be a pedestrian bridge but now has barriers in place for you to navigate on your way towards the boardwalk. Let's hear three cheers for Google Maps and this amazing route. No really, what a way to walk.  First Impressions Regarding the personal driver experience, we were dropped off directly in front of their kasbah, which was very convenient. You are immediately thrown into the thick of things, including the many random or not-so-random men who are standing roadside waving keys in your direction. I know, I know, I thought the same thing. What are you doing with those keys? No, I’m not interested. But slow down, ignorant travelers, these entrepreneurs are simply showing you they have rooms for the night, and that special room is yours for a price. I don’t know anyone who has taken up the offer, but you can’t miss these gentlemen coming in off the toll road down to the city center. So, if you haven’t booked a room and want to do things authentically, with a bit of an adventurous side, this might be your lucky day. We were more proactive and booked an apartment for the night in the middle of the medina, thinking the charm of the area would provide the respite we both so desperately needed. Two giant flags struck me within moments of our arrival outside the old kasbah gate. One, why is the Portuguese style so different? Truly, the tower has a distinct energy, and you can see that for yourself if you visit and compare it to similar gates and towers around Morocco. The other flag, a redder one of sorts, and not the Moroccan kind, was the fact that our host for the evening sent their daughter to meet us. There were multiple phone exchanges, but then, when the time came, we were led by this young woman to our home for the evening. That seemed odd to me. The next part confirmed the oddity as we turned left into an inner courtyard, or more like a bloody tunnel, with an attached courtyard, where people were busy cooking and preparing a large meal. Our hostess was quick to point out that those people were getting ready for a wedding. Oh, there’s a bigger and brighter flag, if you ask me. I was prepared to reconsider where we were staying, but then again, this one-bedroom apartment with air conditioning was nestled right on this street directly in the center, offering a multitude of shops that provided charm and the ambiance many seek out when visiting Morocco. The Wedding Crashers My friend reassured me that this was a quiet area. Now let me tell you a few things, it was clear to me that the wedding preparations were suspect. Like, why were they preparing food right in that kitchen, outside our apartment door, and the bedroom window? Hmm, it doesn’t take a competent person to realize that was the bride’s family. Now our hostess and her mother reassured us, “No, the wedding isn’t here. It’s nearby, but not right here.” She even pointed at the apartment. With an innocent smile that only irked me more as the evening played out, she added a simple, “The party will be done by midnight.” I don’t know why we didn’t just scream out loud, “That’s a bunch of bull.” You can complete the word for posterity's sake. Honestly, when I moved here last year, nightly you would hear the wedding car line up at all hours of the early morning as they drove through Tangier in some glorified 1950s promenade drive, but with everyone hanging out the window and horns blaring incessantly with a blatant disregard for people who are trying to sleep. Then again, maybe it's just me and the fact I like sleeping in the early morning hours. I could be complaining about nothing. That’s the wedding model, the after party. Meanwhile, in the city streets, if they haven’t taken to their cars yet, they have bands, and this procession meanders and plays for hours on end, celebrating this pairing. This is the Moroccan reality. Some people love it, and well then there’s me. Let me stress there’s a reason I have an apartment with double-pane windows. Before we took to the streets of the medina and later to the beach, another flag reared its ugly head. The bedroom window was not only open, even with the shutters closed, the slits were wide enough for not only a rat or two to visit us, but anyone from the corridor or from the wedding party could look in. The glorified drapes were sheer, which was nice for decoration's sake, but not enough for privacy. We both noticed this before our afternoon excursion. Now, don’t get me wrong, Asilah is quite the charmer; you’ll see that in my vlog. However, let me tell you this: for a quiet city on the shoreline, the serenity we experienced lasted only for an hour or two after exploring the narrow streets and murals. What we planned to be a peaceful evening wasn’t anywhere close to that state. If it hadn’t been for a House Hunters marathon, I wouldn’t have been able to overlook the initial line of people coming in and out of the place next to ours. Our tunnel seemed like a thoroughfare. Dare I tell you about the mariachi like band or whatever local monstrosity, I mean, wonderfully talented boisterous players who decided to warm up outside the apartment door? They showed up around 8 pm and serenaded the bride and us for far too long until they marched down the alley and two minutes away to where the tent had been placed. I wasn’t prepared for that, let alone any of the music that showed up for the next few hours. At some point, bedtime beckoned, but it was for naught. The window became a peep show for the family of the bride to be, and any potential sleep that was on the table quickly disappeared from singing, screeching, and the return of the band because they wanted to make sure we were still up well past 12:30 in the morning. I can’t even share clearly what happened next, save that I woke up with a hangover-type headache, and I didn’t even have anything to drink. Now I know what it’s like to have a band outside your window, and trust me, it’s far worse than any John Cusack scenes holding his boombox in the early morning hours with Peter Gabriel belting out his catchy ballad. I would take hours of that song over the boom of the drums, horns, and whatever that woman kept screaming from her lungs. Was It Worth It? As for Asilah, I imagine it’s a great place to visit when you’re not caught up in this unique experience. Then again, the evening negated the entire adventure, and when we tried to catch our train to escape back to Tangier, the blasted locomotive was delayed for over an hour. Exhausted and beyond stimulated, we paid the thirty-five dollars for the Grand Taxi to take us back to our homes and be done with this holiday excursion. Maybe you’ll have better luck on your trip. If you do, let me know because I want to believe there is a quiet place in Morocco worth seeing, a proper seaside escape, but I haven’t found it yet. Then again, maybe Asilah is the cure for all travel woes. This was just an ugly wart. As long as I go back with noise-canceling headphones, get one of those rooms from the man on the street, and drink copious amounts of adult beverages, I should be good to go . Onto the next trip, my fellow travelers . . . |
Meet Mr. Jon- a traveler at heart who loves a good story and walk. Jonathan has over twenty years experience in independent publishing. While he prides himself on crafting a good story, nothing truly beats an adventure and a camera. 
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