I don’t know when I first realized that I had the wanderlust bug. I know I told my fiance (now my husband of 32 years) that I loved to travel. Maybe it was from the summer vacation after 1st grade when my mother, father, sister and I flew to Hawaii to visit cousins, the Polynesian Cultural Center and Pearl Harbor. Perhaps it bit me when I was 10 and my parents took an exotic trip through Central and South America. I remember seeing their slides: Machu Picchu, llamas, women in Panama hats and brightly woven embroidered blouses. Or was it our train trip from Mexicali to Mexico City in a stifling hot first class compartment with dysfunctional air conditioning and permanently closed windows. Most definitely!!!
Oh, the stories I could tell! I was 13 and I still remember the tropical fruit plate I ordered for breakfast each morning at the Mexico City posada where one morning a waiter was waiting for me outside the water closet, leaned in to kiss me and huskily breated “Thank You”. Living my junior year as an exchange student in Costa Rica confirmed it. After graduating from High School I did a quickie Europe trip, and a return trip to Costa Rica. By then I worked at a job only to satisfy my “itching feet.” Years later my husband and I had just gotten home from a 3 month stay in South Korea when a Peace Corps Want Ad tempted me, but not my husband. We settled down, bought a house, had children and became practical. That’s not to say we didn’t vacation or travel, we did, but I always wanted more.
Over the last several years this “bug” has come out of remission. My eldest married and my youngest started college. We were empty-nesters. I took as my motto “It costs nothing to dream, and everything not to.” I subscribed to International Living magazine, and my Inbox overflowed daily with emails from Travelzoo, VacationsToGo, Frommers, Cruises-n-More, and others. To see Italy was my dream vacation, and after saving for years and planning for 18 months, it became reality to celebrate our 50th birthdays. It was an awesome trip and the planning was at least half the fun, if not more. What was in my husband’s words “a once in a lifetime trip” took place 11 months ago…but the wanderlust bug has bitten again. I can’t survive with just ONE “once in a lifetime” trip.