It's Memorial Day and a time of remembering. Also of eating. That isn't meant to be flippant. Doug and I are thinking of his parents, my dad and others. We certainly want to remember all the vets who are living with PTSD, along with all their families.

Our day has been simple -- no grills, no tri-tip or ribs, no barbecue sauce dripping down our chins. Just a day of planning for Bruges and Vienna, and for phone service along the way. Tonight, we're having a summer feast of hummous, tabouli, and all the strawberry shortcake (the homemade biscuit-type) we can handle. How would M. F. K. Fisher say it? I don't know, but I certainly feel it. Good to the marrow.

I must add one more travel quote. Laurence Stern said."I pity the [wo] man who can travel from Dan to Beersheba and cry. 'tis all barren.'" That's how l feel about Nebraska. So even if this is about our trip to Europe this summer, I have to throw in that I'll miss our yearly trek from Reedley, California to Kalona, Iowa via underwhelmingly beautiful and peaceful places like Nebraska.

With Stern I can say, "I love it all." And with a straight face and sincere heart. Really.

Plane tickets, Eurail passes, maps and Rick Steves’ guides. We’ve got it all and we’re going. Finally. Thirty-two years ago when I did this we had the youth hostel membership to keep things cheap. That was fun then, but I won’t miss the snoring strangers in hostel dorm rooms. Now it’s just  the loved ones snoring.

Poring over the map is fun. Looking at Lake Plitvice in National Geographic is spectacular. Finding the right accommodations to suit our budget, please everyone, and that isn’t too far from the action (whatever that is in any given place) is a bit more stressful. So however great the trip will be, the planning is half the fun. (Sing it with me, “Anticipa-ation …”) And like Carly sings in the rest of the song, “These are the good ol’ days.”

So here is the best piece of web-advice that I have found for any part of our trip. In suggestions on what to do in Venice, the common wisdom seems to be that one should ditch the maps and guidebooks. Go out and get lost and enjoy it. To be lost in Venice is some of the best of what life has to offer.

Perhaps that’s not a bad idea for any part of our Journey.

When I was Young . . .

When I was young and the urge to be someplace else was on me, I was assured by mature people that maturity would cure the itch. When years described me as mature, the remedy prescribed was middle age. In middle age, I was assured that greater age would calm my fever and now that I am fifty-eight perhaps senility will do the job. Nothing has worked. Four hoarse blasts of a ship’s whistle still raise the hair on my neck and set my feet tapping. The sound of a jet, an engine warming up, even the clopping of shod hooves on pavement brings on the ancient shudder, the dry mouth and vacant eye, the hot palms and the churn of the stomach high up under the rib cage … I fear the disease is incurable. (John Steinbeck, Travels with Charlie)

Crete - 1980 (trip to Europe with my cousin Lorraine)

Planning a trip, brings to mind some of my favorite quotes from other writers. Steinbeck’s quote has always stuck with me. It brings to mind my dad, William, who loved all forms of public transportation, who loved to go places, and who passed the joy of travel along to me. He died several weeks ago and I wish I could tell him where I’m going next. Whether it is driving from California to Iowa (I even love Nebraska) or going to the places I’ll see this summer (Bruges, Bremen, Vienna, Venice, Slovenia, Croatia, Bosnia-Herzegovina) it is good to travel. It gives me that “ancient shudder.”

I really haven't traveled nearly enough.

Khania, Crete - 1980