Arc de Triomphe, 2010
Saturday was Bastille Day. I have a special affinity for July 14th because we were in Paris on Bastille Day in 2010, nearing the end of one of the best family vacations we’ve ever taken. One we still talk about frequently with smiles on our faces.
I’m an explorer by nature. I love to travel and learn about other places, other cultures, and their unique histories. I love finding the similarities that make us all human, and the differences that make us all unique. If I could move to a different part of the world every six to twelve months, I’d do it.
Maybe it’s because I lived in Germany twice during my first eight years of life (courtesy of the U.S. Army), with parents who spent as much time traveling around Europe as they could manage on a tight budget. In the summer, we motored around in a tiny Volkswagen Rabbit, lugging a big orange tent, a camping stove, and sleeping bags. I remember a lot of icy-cold campground showers. During the winter, we skied in the Italian, Swiss, or German Alps, staying in rented rooms or apartments.
After we moved back to the States, we took a two-week tour of the U.S. and Canada, driving from Philadelphia to California (in that same Rabbit). Growing up, I didn’t go a single year without visiting someplace new (or old), no matter where we lived.
I’m sure it’s no accident that I married a military man. Luckily, one who shares my affinity for travel. We haven’t been stationed overseas, but we get to move every few years, and we’re always planning our next trip. As a family, we’ve visited more than 35 States, and nine countries so far.
I have big plans, but not the big funds to support them all. 😉
After my husband retires, I’m not sure we’ll be able to pick a place to live permanently. Just the thought of “settling down” somewhere makes me itchy. I might find a city I like and end up staying there forever, but in my mind there always has to be the option to leave.
Roam by the B-52s could be my theme song. Or Ramblin’ Man (if it were Ramblin’ Woman) by the Allman Brothers. I wasn’t born in the back seat of a Greyhound bus, but I might as well have been, because pulling up stakes and moving on is in my blood.
What about you? Traveler or homebody?