I have this aunt, on my dad's side of the family, that has never married and will never have children; she's the world traveler of my dad's generation. When I was little, she would regale of with tales of her travels- to Canada and France mostly (she worked for a French company), but also to places like Rome and Barcelona. I always loved hearing her stories; they always seemed so exotic and adventurous. And I remember forming the idea of wanting to travel at a very young age because of her colorful adventures.
My mother fueled the flame. She seems to have the travel itch, too, but she has always affectionately called it Gypsy Blood, a term she uses to describe her aversion to staying put; for years now we have been going on day trips and weekend trips for the heck of it. There was this one time during the summer before my junior year in high school. My dad was out of town, and she decided it was high time that my sister and I experienced Trader Joes. Now, this was before a Trader Joes opened in Nashville, and so we had to drive all the way to Atlanta, from Huntsville. A solid four hour drive, five if we got lost (which we did), all in the name of Trader Joe's cheese curls. Since moving up here to school, I have put more than 15,000 miles on my little fourteen year old, beaten up Honda. Most of those miles are from solo day and weekend trips.
I had even planned on traveling throughout Europe when I graduated high school- the plans oscillated between traveling alone and traveling with my mother. For a very long time I have loved the idea of living out of a trunk, covered with stickers like George Bailey's from It's A Wonderful Life. When it became apparent that neither plan would turn out, she encouraged me to study abroad. I participated in a travel course my freshman year, going to beautiful Greece. I spent last semester in Vienna, and it was by far the best thing that has happened to me yet. Such a beautiful city! Hundertwasserhaus and Stephansdom and Sachertorte and the Danau... and of course, I traveled to many other cities as well. I saw Barcelona and Rome, just like my aunt. I traveled to Zurich, where I enjoyed cheese fondue for the first time. I learned that French people aren't the snobs we make them out to be- at least not in Nice, France (they were some of the kindest and most hospitable people we met!). And London. Ah, London. I shall live there one day! In London, I had fish 'n chips in a pub, I saw Phantom of the Opera. I even found the oldest piece of literature known to mankind in the bowels of the British Museum. A week later, I was en route to Amsterdam to see the works of my favorite artists, Van Gogh and Rembrandt, in their respective museums.
My adventures let me meet amazing people, like the trio of Australians we traveled with in France. I get to try new food and see the art and literature and history I've only read about. My travels let me keep moving forward, something my inner workaholic loves. Even now, only four days after driving back to school, I'm itching to get back behind the wheel and get moving. I have plans for my first two family-free road trips, both to take place before the year is half over. I am nothing if not a traveler, with my mother's Gypsy Blood pumping through my veins and my aunt's stories echoing in my memories alongside my own.
My mother fueled the flame. She seems to have the travel itch, too, but she has always affectionately called it Gypsy Blood, a term she uses to describe her aversion to staying put; for years now we have been going on day trips and weekend trips for the heck of it. There was this one time during the summer before my junior year in high school. My dad was out of town, and she decided it was high time that my sister and I experienced Trader Joes. Now, this was before a Trader Joes opened in Nashville, and so we had to drive all the way to Atlanta, from Huntsville. A solid four hour drive, five if we got lost (which we did), all in the name of Trader Joe's cheese curls. Since moving up here to school, I have put more than 15,000 miles on my little fourteen year old, beaten up Honda. Most of those miles are from solo day and weekend trips.
I had even planned on traveling throughout Europe when I graduated high school- the plans oscillated between traveling alone and traveling with my mother. For a very long time I have loved the idea of living out of a trunk, covered with stickers like George Bailey's from It's A Wonderful Life. When it became apparent that neither plan would turn out, she encouraged me to study abroad. I participated in a travel course my freshman year, going to beautiful Greece. I spent last semester in Vienna, and it was by far the best thing that has happened to me yet. Such a beautiful city! Hundertwasserhaus and Stephansdom and Sachertorte and the Danau... and of course, I traveled to many other cities as well. I saw Barcelona and Rome, just like my aunt. I traveled to Zurich, where I enjoyed cheese fondue for the first time. I learned that French people aren't the snobs we make them out to be- at least not in Nice, France (they were some of the kindest and most hospitable people we met!). And London. Ah, London. I shall live there one day! In London, I had fish 'n chips in a pub, I saw Phantom of the Opera. I even found the oldest piece of literature known to mankind in the bowels of the British Museum. A week later, I was en route to Amsterdam to see the works of my favorite artists, Van Gogh and Rembrandt, in their respective museums.
My adventures let me meet amazing people, like the trio of Australians we traveled with in France. I get to try new food and see the art and literature and history I've only read about. My travels let me keep moving forward, something my inner workaholic loves. Even now, only four days after driving back to school, I'm itching to get back behind the wheel and get moving. I have plans for my first two family-free road trips, both to take place before the year is half over. I am nothing if not a traveler, with my mother's Gypsy Blood pumping through my veins and my aunt's stories echoing in my memories alongside my own.
Ah...the day trippers we are with Gypsy Blood traveling through our veins. I loved Wein too, but Glasgow calls me, as well as Brussels and Banff and Bali and somewhere to see the Northern Lights. But Atlanta and the Cheese Curls was a great memory. Especially the Alien Lights on the way home. :D
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