Got the Travel Bug AGAIN......

Every few months I get extremely restless. 

My children often wonder if they are children of gypsies! The gypsy blood I have in my veins....The desire to see new places, and eat new foods, and hear new sounds, becomes stronger and stronger in me until suddenly I am preparing for a trip to Kenya, or Haiti, or Brazil, or even Canada. 

Truth be told, my parents come from Mennonite farming stock, but my ancestors for the past 500 years or so were on the move, not because they wanted to be adrift or even travel but because they believed in adult baptism and so went from Holland to Prussia, Russia, then Canada, Mexico and even Central America to avoid persecution by the Catholics and Lutherans. Maybe that is where the genetic urge to travel comes from. My maternal grandpa and I spent many afternoons reading travel books together, he reading about places he would never visit, me researching for the future travels I would make. 

When I was in Grade 12, I spent a Friday night at a friend's house and came home Saturday morning to see my mother doing laundry. My mother only did laundry on Mondays, NEVER any other day! So when I asked her why, she said, "Because we are leaving for California this afternoon." Okay....my father did not like to plan, for fear that what he desired would not happen. So the 5 of us left that afternoon for a 2 week trip to California, school left behind and new adventures around every curve. And while we were there we saw the desert, the beach and some other wonderful views. We stayed in very cheap hotels, got meals from grocery store supplies, and drove...a lot. 

We did the same thing when I was in Grade 10 and we went to New Orleans for Christmas. Drove...a lot. Saw and toured a couple of antebellum mansions, ate at places in the French Quarter where most tourists would not go. My dad struck up a conversation with anyone anywhere, never had any fear to talk to a stranger, and so we always heard interesting stories. From the horse and carriage driver, the blues singer, the nun, the prostitute, the plantation owner, anyone with a story....we were not embarrassed by Dad because we got to hear the stories too....and we learned more on those trips than in our classrooms at home.  


We traveled anywhere my dad could drive. Then I married a guy who also has that gypsy blood (his mother is Russian Mennonite and his father was Norwegian - some Viking stuff going on and they were travelers too, right? I think that is the polite word for invaders?) He does most of his traveling on a BMW motorcycle (almost a million miles so far) even when overseas. Together we have traveled to a great many countries. I have traveled to over 30 countries, some more extensively than others of course. There are so many left to visit, and some to which I want to return for more discovery. This world and its people are incredibly interesting. My husband and I always enjoy our travels together and have had some interesting adventures. Stories to come......

Reno in heated jacket liner riding
a motorcycle in the rain in Morocco
drinking hot mint tea.

If you have not experienced that little hollow feeling inside that gives you a craving for new vistas, then maybe you are fortunate. It is like an illness, and the only cure is to get on a plane, in a car, or on a motorcycle, or start walking and go.......somewhere else....I feel the fever coming on again........did I ever tell you about how we took our two teenagers out of school and traveled for a year...by motorcycle?

Maybe next time. Right now I have a map to check....

Reno greeting one of the teachers in a rural school in Malawi