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