Some of you may be asking why I decided on a travel blog. I’m
not a twenty-something, single girl, alternating my red beret in France, and my
red bikini on a Caribbean beach. My husband and I are not childless jet-setters
blazing a trail to India…. And some of you might think that because you aren’t those
things either, you might as well stick close to home. I’m here to tell you, it
isn’t true- if you don’t want it to be.
Stating the obvious, I love to travel. I love to see new
things. I stand in awe of God’s and man’s creations on this great, blue and
green sphere. There are times when I travel and I just stand there, gazing in
amazement that something could be that beautiful. Or that historic. That God
would align my visit just for me-
with the perfect temperature- or the not so perfect one; that the rainbow in
the Colorado valley could be that vivid; that the ocean really can be that green, or blue; that man could build beautiful
towering buildings straight up into the sky, and that I can step out onto a
clear ledge and flirt with heights of which ancient man had no concept. I love
to smell the smells- the exotic foods (except the fish, I struggle with that
one); the smell of a city; the salt in the ocean air. The history, the stories,
the stuff of legends…. They all give me the greatest thrill. And it never, ever
fails- I find myself praying a silent mouthed prayer, when I’m alone in these moments. “Thank you,
God. Thank you for letting me see this. Thank you for letting me have this
moment, and experience these things. And have a story to tell.”
Growing up, my family did not have a lot. A lot of you know
that. We were a family of 7, and I lived the greater portion of my home life in
a home that was less than 900 square feet, with one bathroom. My dad worked
(and still does) 60 hour work weeks- not
at the office, but hard, manual labor- wiring the ever growing bevy of
buildings in “Downtown”; or in the factory making the machines, or making the
factory itself work. My mom took a
variety of odd jobs- driving the school bus, helping clean the church… because
there was always a sibling that was sick in the hospital; always more bills to
pay than could be paid. I’ve mentioned in previous blogs, that things were bad
enough once for the local fire department to bring us Christmas groceries and
presents. My dad worked so hard, but having sick hospitalized kids and bills to
pay, was more than they could do. I can’t wait for the day when my dad can
finally rest.
My parents felt that Christian education was important, so
my mom, dad, brothers and sisters and I worked for a good many years- cleaning the
school gymnasium. That was often a humbling and sometimes humiliating experience among my peers- but that
is for another blog. When four of us needed the education, some choices had to
be made. At this point, around my sophomore year- I was horrified at the idea
of leaving behind the group of 25 friends and classmates I’d known since first
grade, to venture into unfamiliar public school territory. So, I decided to pay
for my private education myself. I got a job, and I worked. It was sometime
around this time of my life, that I decided, I would not be a victim of my
circumstances. If I wanted something, I would just buckle down and make it
work; I would make it happen. Class ring payments became due- I made it work.
Senior pictures came up- I made it work. Cap and gown, field trips, lunch
money- I worked, worked, worked. I had to make the tough choice to forgo my
long standing plans to attend college in Florida with my best friend. When it
came time to purchase my car (college was starting in a week and I was a
commuter!)- you can imagine after paying for private school, and all that went
with it- there wasn’t a lot left. I took out a “small loan of a million dollars”
(haha, I just couldn’t resist); anyway, I took out a small loan of $2500 from
the bank to buy my first car. It died of engine failure within the first few
months- thanks to a slick talkin’ salesguy who took advantage of my small price
tag. Lesson two learned in life- don’t make big decision in the hastiness of
the moment. Aside from 3 small scholarships- a drop in the bucket of college life-
it was on me to get through school. I worked two jobs a lot of my college
career, and tried to maintain my grades, homework and two hours of practice
required daily- okay, and I have to say here that my social life *may* have
taken a few of those hours. Long story short- here I am, nearly 39 years old,
without a document to show for it. That’s next on my list.
But you know what I do have???? I have all of these
memories. I have all of these life experiences that some people only dream of. Without Broadway, I would never
have dreamed of becoming a music major. Without my trip to Washington DC in
high school for the National Young Leaders Conference- I would never have my
knowledge of the government, how it works, and my interest in politics. I would
never be able to share with my children my firsthand experiences of Monticello,
or Mount Vernon; the very places that probably planted the seed for my love and
avid study of British History. These early travels in my junior and senior year
whetted my appetite to see more, to experience more. I’ve planted my feet where Columbus stood. I’ve
seen Mozart’s birth home. I’ve crossed the Rialto Bridge, and stood in St. Mark’s
Square while the sound of a stringed orchestra filled the courtyard in the damp
evening air. I’ve gambled in Vegas, in Reno; and breathed the mountain air in
Lake Tahoe and Colorado. I was in love with all that Puerto Rico had to offer,
and riding horses (um, okay, do not “canter” no matter what the guide says- “cantering”
means running) overlooking the bay in the Dominican Republic. I have brought
stories and souvenirs back to my children from Mexico, and the Bahamas and we
have explored amazing places as a family.
I say all this, not to air my list of travels- but to inspire someone, somewhere. That it is all worth it. In my opinion, a life well-traveled is a life well lived. And traveling, well, it makes you dream and wonder, and wander. And you know what? This little girl, who used to clean toilets in a gym, this TRAVELIN’ GRITS got to do it. . I dedicate this blog, to you, dear reader- the one who wants to see the world, and will find a way to make it happen. Here are my experiences and tips to help you make it happen.
