I waited a long time to take this picture... The Eiffel Tower, Paris, France

It’s probably safe to say that if you know me outside of the cyber world, or even if you’ve been reading this blog for awhile, you know that I love to travel.  One of the great joys of my life is seeing new places and experiencing new things.  I’ve been lucky in that I’ve traveled to some fantastic places, even at a young age.  My parents took my brother and me on awesome vacations and made it possible for me to participate in an exchange program in Germany when I was 16, which was the beginning of my love for international travel.

Old Man of Storr, Isle of Skye, Scotland

Why do I travel?  It’s more than just being able to take a cool picture and tell my friends and family, “Dudes, you would not believe how big the Eiffel Tower is!”  I think it’s vital to our humanity.  I think it’s something we all need to do.  I think we need to see for ourselves that there are other perspectives, other ways of living and being… and they are totally valid.  We have to step out of our comfort zones.  We have to connect to those who are different from us.  We have to search, and appreciate.  I can’t imagine not doing those things.

Loch Ness, Scotland

Hubby and I have been married more than five years, and we’ve traveled as much as we can with two busy lawyer schedules.  Together we’ve gone to the Bahamas – twice – to Canada, Mexico, England, Scotland, California, Texas, and France.  My family constantly asks me: where next?  At the moment, we’re planning a return visit to England, to catch some of the must-sees in the south that we missed when we traveled through the north of the country in 2008.  And after that, who knows?  I’m lucky that hubby shares my need to get out there and see things.

Ancient Walls, Le Crestet, Provence, France

I’ll tell you a story.  My grandpapa passed in 2008.  The spring before he died, hubby and I visited my grandparents on Long Island.  Grandpapa wanted to drive past the famous forsythias.  We cruised down the road, appreciating the riot of yellow flowers and he told us that he had driven past the forsythias every spring for many years.  He and my grandmother had traveled the world together.  Once, they met Harry Truman.  From the driver’s seat, Grandpapa reflected, “Gee, I’ve had a lot of fun.”  Someday I want to look back on my life and say the same thing: “I’ve had a lot of fun.”

Hubs and Messy in front of Notre-Dame, Paris, France

I’d be lying if I said that travel was always easy and seamless.  I’ve dealt with my share of delayed and canceled flights, bad weather and creepy hotels.  But I’m never sorry I went.  Case in point: on our epic trip to the UK, hubby and I planned a hike in the northern Lake District, outside of Keswick.  We waited for that hike for a long time.  On the day we planned it, good old Blighty hit us with rain, mud and mist.  We went out anyway.  We flew halfway around the world for that hike, and a little mud wasn’t going to stop us.  It was one of the coldest, wettest, best days of my life.

Buttermere, outside Keswick, Lake District, England

It’s a scary world out there.  On the radio, we’ve heard about earthquakes, meltdowns (nuclear and financial), revolutions.  That’s why we have to travel.  We have to reach out.  We have to learn how we’re different, and how we’re not different.  Please, go someplace that scares you.  I’m not talking about going somewhere dangerous.  I’m talking about putting yourself out there, for example, in a village where no one speaks your language.  Stumble across language barriers with your phrasebook clutched in your hand.  Shake it off if you get a dessert you weren’t expecting because you accidentally said “fromage blanc.”  (It’s insanely good, I know from experience.  Holla back, Burgundy!)  See how people reach out to you if you forget your ego at home and reach back.  See how they welcome you.

Thrilled to be here, sipping pastis in a sidewalk cafe, Vaison-La-Romaine, Provence, France