Recently, my son turned four years old. As with most parents, I would guess, it was strange to sit back and consider where the time had gone. Sometimes, it feels like he was born only last week – and then I see the walking, talking, running, storytelling, joke-cracking silly little snuggler before me and I am forced to reckon with the passage of time.
The first time I visited Spain, I went with my mother. She had been before, one stop among many on a European cruise. She had only gotten a glimpse of Barcelona, though, just the slightest taste of what the city had to offer, so when she mentioned the idea of venturing back, this time with me accompanying her I of course, accepted immediately – especially as it was on her dime.
One of the best things about living in Houston, TX is being within driving distance of New Orleans. And one of the worst things is being within driving distance from New Orleans. It’s just close enough to drive to, but far enough that the drive is tedious and taxing.
I’ve lived in Texas for about ten years – first in Austin and then, in and around Houston. And during the decade, I’ve only been to Dallas three times. Texas is a big place, after all, and traveling the distance between cities is daunting, especially considering it can take three hours to just get from one end of Houston to the other.
When most people think of a holiday trip with children, they envision Mickey Mouse and Magic Kingdoms, splash pads, pizza by the slice and the wails of tired babies and cranky parents. But this doesn’t have to be the case. Travel with small children can be so much more … normal. (No ride passes or overpriced stuffed animal souvenirs required.) With a little prior planning, some careful packing and the willingness to engage with kids in a different way, trips with children can be something altogether different.
I’ve said it before: my favorite time to visit Paris is in the winter. Perhaps it’s because there is something gloomy about it, and Paris is the kind of place that seems like it should be a little bleak. That it, is a place that is beautiful enough to endure a little dusky desolateness, and perhaps is even a little more beautiful because of it.
There is so much about traveling that has changed since COVID-19 and all of its variants arrived on the scene.
Is there anything more European to do than travel by train? In America, passenger trains are few and far between. There is, of course, the ubiquitous Amtrak and in Flint, it serves as a jaunty way to visit Chicago. But other than that, riding the rails is a pastime that much of the U.S. has largely left behind.
When traveling, going to the beach is a holiday mainstay. Whether it’s heading up to northern Michigan, south to Florida or west to California, it’s difficult to beat a day in the sun, surrounded by sand and waves rolling into the shore. A quick dip, jumping in the surf, that first dunk underwater to acclimate yourself to its cooler temperature – all of these memories are part of the “day at the beach” experience. Pack a cooler, some towels, your favorite beach blanket, sunscreen, sunglasses, maybe a Frisbee to toss around … no matter where in the world you are, this is the standard for the perfect day in the sun.
Over the last 18 months, we’ve obviously not had as many opportunities to travel. We had rescheduled our trips multiple times, sent cancellation emails and made lots of heartbreaking decisions about where to go and when. And so it was that with a hastily assembled trip to the Netherlands, we found ourselves once again in the Venice of the North: Amsterdam.
On our first night in Rome, we were tired. The journey had included two masked flights, two times through airport security, a tense Customs experience with lots of verifying COVID vaccination and testing. So, by the time we landed in Italy, arrived at our hotel (via disgruntled taxi driver), checked in and unpacked, we were completely exhausted. And hungry.
Almost every time we go to Italy’s Amalfi Coast, we visit Capri. And every time we make that voyage, we regret it.
