06 Mar 18 Days Later

What we’re doing, where we’ve gone, and our thoughts so far.

We started 2020 with a clear goal in mind: to buy tickets to Europe so that this insane traveling spirits circus can finally begin.

I’m not sure if you’re with me on this one—and I fully admit to sounding a little nuts—but I always feel like the process of purchasing airline tickets is a fickle one. I’m convinced that if I do even a scant amount of research into a flight and don’t buy the tickets right away, a) the internet will track that research and somehow charge me more the next time around, or b) the flight will be sold out when I come back to buy it, even if it was only a couple of hours that I was away. I know, I KNOW—those are both pretty illogical, but here we are.

So when I sat down to my computer one morning in January, after spending the afternoon prior working out where exactly the most economical place to fly into Europe would be if we needed to end up in a small mountain town in southern Austria, I felt confident that seats on the flight I was looking at would no longer be available. They were too cheap—Norwegian air was having a New Year’s sale, and the prices were ridiculous, especially if you’re someone who’s capable of traveling with only carry-on luggage (teach me your ways).

And yet, there they were, ready and waiting for me to snap them up with a couple keystrokes and clicks on my mousepad.

I believe this anxiety about purchasing flights stems from my college days, when I traveled to Ireland for a few short but meaningful weeks. I had been tracking flights and found one that was astonishingly low—only $330 roundtrip, with no restrictions on checked luggage. But I didn’t buy it right away for whatever reason, and overnight the price crept back up, nothing earth shattering but enough to sting. I ended up buying the ticket for somewhere in the neighborhood of $390, and so began an unending desire to travel and an anxiety about scoring the lowest fares possible to go with it.

I feel like I should back up, perhaps tell you a bit about what’s going on here? My name is Devon and I, with my partner Colton, recently started a company called Travaleer Spirits, as in distilled spirits, but it’s not a distillery because we don’t have one of those. Instead, we travel to other people’s distilleries and use their equipment to make something that we then import back into the United States to sell under our own label. Simple, right?

This is a brand-new venture for us. Prior to Travaleer, I was a senior writer for a trade magazine called Artisan Spirit (still am, actually) and Colton was the head distiller for Corsair (still works there, kind of). We lived in Nashville, Tennessee and had plenty of great friends and lovely coworkers whom we miss dearly. But we both just really wanted to do this thing.

A lot of big ideas were floated around when we started thinking of where to go first. Obviously, geographically protected spirits like mezcal and scotch called out to us, but those destinations proved more difficult to organize—we didn’t know that many people in Mexico, and their palenqueros are already extremely busy year-round. Scotch needs to be at least three years old; where would we age it and how could we afford that right out of the gate? This project is and continues to be self-funded by us and our loved ones. So, we put those ideas high up on a shelf to be returned to at a later date and focused instead on calling in favors.

One of the best things about the distilling industry is that it’s very easy to bond with other members of the community regardless of where you are or what language you speak. It’s one of the reasons that Colton and I decided to start this company in the first place. There’s a lot of comradery in what we do, many doors that always seem open. Over the years, Colton and I had met producers, writers, and industry members from all over the world, some of whom we were lucky enough to work with in one way or another. One such person was Florian Kuenz, who owns a family farm and distillery with his brother in the Austrian alps, and who made a pretty badass gin that we were both fans of.

It’s now been 18 days since we first landed in Austria. (18 days?? It feels like 18 YEARS, and at the same time 18 minutes. Time is funny like that.) Below, a couple of reflections after that modest stretch of time.

Successfully working on the go is difficult. I wish I were more productive. This is a constant refrain in my life. I’m not, even in the best of surroundings (my go-to excuse is that I have an “artistic mind”), and an ever-changing office is not the greatest precursor to productivity. But, as is usually the case while traveling, I feel incredibly inspired. Organization and productivity are things I can change, inspiration is more of a challenge.

I have never had a busier week than our first one in Europe. Holy sleep deprivation, Batman, that first week was a buster. I feel confident that I can say I’ve never been busier. Most of that translated to less and less sleep time, something my body protested against—I had lingering chest congestion for a couple weeks after—but I’m happier for having accomplished all that we did.

On the topic of illness, the coronavirus has been stalking us. We spend a few days in Italy and bam, a massive outbreak. Then we fly to Abu Dhabi and what do you know? Two hotels across from ours are quarantined because of a couple cases. This wasn’t something that we could have planned for, and as someone with health anxiety it’s certainly had a greater effect on this trip and me in particular than I’d have liked, but so far everything seems alright and I’m happy that we are persevering. 

People approach food and drink differently here. Alert the media! This isn’t exactly a hot take, nor is it news to anyone who has traveled outside of the U.S., but every culture seems to have a different approach to food and drink, and that’s something I cherish. The way you think about what you consume is often so reflective of where you come from. In the case of the people that we’ve been around in Austria, I’ve noticed that they tend to consume simple, well-made things, like good Austrian beer, single malt whisky, and delicious cheeses. It’s absolutely a way of living that I can get behind.

I’m not sure what it is—some kind of dark magick or ancient alpine sorcery—but despite eating an abundance of cheese, meats, bread, sweets, pasta, potatoes, and a little bit of greens, everyone working at this distillery remains in shape. I mean, they work in a distillery, which isn’t exactly a sedentary job, but even the office employees boast a similar metabolism. They eat lunch and a snack, usually some kind of cake, together each day. How wonderful is that? I want to take that habit back to the U.S. and force it upon any future employees we may have. Mandatory cake breaks! With espresso! I don’t want to hear any excuses! Also, when I inquired about a multivitamin, Florian looked at me like I’d just asked to snack on a urinal cake.

I didn’t pack well. Prior to this trip, I anguished over what items to bring that would perfectly capture the slightly 90s-leaning entrepreneur I hoped to be, sartorially speaking. Turns out all I needed was some puffy outerwear and a reliable assortment of fleeces. The people at this distillery continue to be baffled by my second hand designer jackets, completely impractical as they are, and I continue to wear them.

I’m not where I want to end up, and neither is our brand, and that’s okay. This is a work in progress. Colton and I both brought a certain amount of skill to this endeavor, but neither of us are at our professional peak. We still have so much to learn, and this experience is going to take us to school. I’m alright with that.

In good spirits,

Devon

UPDATE: Coronavirus continued to get much, MUCH worse after I wrote this piece. Ultimately, we cut our trip short and went home to New York to quarantine, and it seems that we’re both fine. Since that time, everyone else went into quarantine as well, which is where we remain. A silver lining though! The gin was completed during our time there, and I am happy that I captured my naivete in print before the realities of a pandemic crushed it into itty bitty pieces.