While sipping coffee in a crowded outdoor cafe in Paris, I watched the endless parade of fashionable women saunter by. Later that afternoon, I rode out to the countryside on a slightly rusted bike. Pedaling through tiny villages, I stopped in one to sip some regional wines and sample artisanal cheeses. Returning to the city, I reveled in its charm as I strolled along the Champs Élysées, its lights dazzling the inky evening sky.
Discovering Kenya
A heavy mist greeted my arrival in Kenya. When the sun broke through finally, the heat dramatically increased and the distant fields seemed to shimmer. Setting off on safari with six other visitors and our guide, we traversed rough terrain in a scarred Jeep, bouncing off one another like ping-pong balls. Spotting an elephant herd just ahead, I focused my binoculars on the family of three, the baby sheltered between the adults.
Wanderlust
My mind continues to wander as more images pop up. The sushi bar in Tokyo. The trolley manuevering steep San Francisco hills. At the pristine Maui beach, I savored fresh coconut, my gaze locked on the azure water at my feet. The Dr. Suess title, “Oh the Places You’ll Go” comes to mind. In my case though, it reminds me of the places I’ve never gone, except in my imagination. Yes, all the ones I just mentioned.
First Sparks
I’ve always wanted to travel the world. After seeing the Wizard of Oz around age five, I questioned why I couldn’t go over the rainbow to the Emerald City as Dorothy had. My grandmother’s tales of her childhood in Europe kept me entertained for hours and I promised myself I’d get to her homeland someday.
Trips with my mother to Manhattan were magic to my young eyes. Crowds rushing as if they’d never reach their destinations, upscale department stores where one could dream rather than buy, the quirky downtown streets whose snaking topography defied the orderly grid of their uptown counterparts. All of this just a short distance over the bridge from my Brooklyn neighborhood. Though close, the city to me was still “out there,” far enough from what I felt were the dull streets where I lived. NYC was my “Emerald City.”
Wishful Thinking
The travel bug continued asserting itself as I started school and learned of more places, like the mysterious Middle East and far flung vistas of many Asian lands. Exchange programs weren’t a thing when I attended high school but if these programs were available, convincing my overcautious mother into letting me go abroad was unlikely. No, my travel lust would have to wait until college, when I vowed to backpack through Europe. Graduation came and went and my backpack never crossed the ocean.
With the advent of my working life, I dreamed of the vacations I’d finally take. I soon found out how little time, and especially money, I had to make my dreams a reality. Instead of the distant miles I imagined roaming in the summer, my excursions were limited to the short hops to my local beach.
Really, It’s Never Too Late
Eventually I did manage to venture far beyond my ZIP code a few times. Three different Caribbean islands, north to Montreal and Quebec, a week in Mexico, a short trip to Israel, and as far west as Colorado. I’m always grateful for adventures closer to home, too. Cape Cod, the many quaint towns along the Hudson River, idyllic hours spent in the Berkshires. As I get older though, the missed opportunities to do more world traveling still nags. While I don’t see any jaunts to far-off places in my immediate future, I still aspire to checking off some of my “must-see” venues, like Sicily, California’s Carmel-by-the-Sea, and Thailand’s Elephant Nature Park.
And if for whatever reasons I never get another chance to span the globe, I have a back-up plan. Why limit the travel experience to this lifetime? After I’m gone, and my cremated remains are dispersed over the ocean, I’ll bid my ashes “bon voyage” as they inevitably make their way out into the world.