I was having a conversation with a taxi driver on Bali, an island of tropical flowers, lush rice terraces and lovely seascapes. It was April 2015. I was 41, Obama was president, and it was an auspicious time for marriages in the Hindu calendar.
“Where are you from?”
“Oh, America! Obama!”
“Oh, you have good President!”
“Yes, we like him too.”
“Where is your husband?” Continue reading
Ah, Valentine’s Day… love it or hate it, one can hardly escape reminders of romance—from paper hearts strung in store windows to bed-time stories about Fluffy the guinea pig’s Valentine’s day adventure with Kiss (a favorite of my niece and nephew).
I am currently inhabiting a U.S. mountain city rumored to be so well stocked with eligible bachelors that its nickname is “Men-ver.” And yet, am I out meeting beaus? No. It is on my to-do list, but today I am preoccupied sorting travel photos and planning my next big adventure. Thematically, though, I am also thinking back to the first time cupid struck on the road. Continue reading
In the rearview mirror I spied her little hand hanging out the half-open back window, the wings of her butterfly finger puppet flapping madly in the wind.
B is for butterfly. B is also for bunny ears, the alphabet item she brought to pre-school earlier in the week. Bunny ears are good. They are cute and they stay on her head, where I can see them bobbing sweetly in the same rearview mirror. They do not feel compelled to fly out the window. Continue reading
“Listen Spider Legs, I know you want to take giant steps because you can, but you’re using much more energy than you need to and it’s going to wear you out.”
Adventure guide and master trekker C. demonstrated by three-stepping to the top of a tall rock that I would have overtaken in one stride.
“Sometimes you have to take a step back or sideways to find the best route forward.”
“Okay, got it.” I said as a silly ‘I’ve-got-a-crush-on-you-grin’ spread across my rain-spattered face.
It was the last trek on a two-week adventure trip across the South Island of New Zealand with a group of 10 accompanied by two guides.
Email excerpt from October 15, 2014 (two weeks before I left NYC to embark on an open-ended travel adventure.)
Mrs. O: “Follow your heart.”
Me: “My heart says ‘Go to Spain and communicate with the outer world only by posting photos on Instagram.’”
Mrs. O was being serious and I was being flippant… mostly. My heart was telling me to go to Spain. Or rather it was telling me to get the heck out of New York City, my home for the previous 15 years, and explore the world without commitments of any kind. Continue reading