I earned my first set of wings when I was about six. That’s the age that I took my first solo flight to my grandparents house in Mobile, Ala. for the summer. My mom put me on the plane in D.C. in my best dress, a red, white and blue handkerchief and lace beauty, with white bobby socks, patent leather Mary Janes and my Cinderella watch. You couldn’t tell me that I wasn’t a big girl. I remember sitting next to another young traveler, shooting the breeze and playing “Go Fish.” When we arrived in Mobile we were awarded small plastic bronze wings, which the stewardess pinned proudly upon our frocks.
I suppose this is when the desire to fly to the four corners of the world took hold. Since then, I’ve climbed a volcano in Nicaragua, shopped for knock-off designer handbags in the backroom of a Shangai kitchen, learned salsa from professional dancers in Cuba and watched camels meander through my tented camp in the Sahara on a chilly morning. I wish I’d thought to write a blog before now, but better late than never, right? Hopefully, past stories of adventures in 10 countries over 6 continents will find their way into my musings.
This blog is meant to capture my wanderings and wonderings moving forward. I hope you enjoy.