I started writing this on a train from Plovdiv to Sofia, kept on writing on a plane, then on a balcony in Athens overlooking a tangle of other balconies. I spent a month in Bulgaria, and now that I’m looking at it from another place and culture, I’ve finally reached a kind of answer to that question, often posed before we came.
Which is that it’s a terrible question.
The first section of our nomadic lives was driving around the US. We had our streamlined nomadic luggage, but we also had stuff in the car–food, extra clothes, spare shoes, all kinds of this and that.
So the real test has been these last two weeks in Sofia and Plovdiv, Bulgaria, when we each have a carry-on suitcase and a backpack and that’s it.
Continue readingWe get asked this question a lot.
In fact it’s rare that–when we mention that we’re on our way to Bulgaria–the response is something other than “Why Bulgaria?” We’ve come to refer to it as The Question.
If you were asking The Question, I could give you a list of reasons, such as these:
Continue readingWe’ve been full time nomads for 2 ½ weeks now, which makes us nomad infants, squinting at our new lives. We’re goofy with joy, given to big grins at each other. In our tent in one of the beautiful national parks we visited, we gestured grandly at the nylon roof and exclaimed, “Honey! Right now, this is our HOUSE!”
We feel as proud as artists whipping the tarpaulin off our marvelous new work, this handcrafted, crazy thing we’ve labored to create: our new nomadic lives.
Continue readingThe stuff is sold off or given away. The U-Box is packed and shipped with the few possessions we still own. Our carry-on suitcases are packed, the house is rented, the friends are hugged, the kids are grown, the two beloved, ancient little dogs have both lived out their long lives.
It’s time to go.
Continue readingWe’re giving away our things, and it’s taking time.
So much time.
My travel partner turned to me recently on one of our long walks and asked,
“So, why do you want to travel?”
Continue readingI tell everyone that I’m not teaching anymore so my husband and I can travel. That is absolutely true, and it is also true that I’m not teaching so I can have more time to write and read. Travel, reading, writing: the triumvirate for happiness. This puts travel writing–such as this collection of essays with a great title by Joan Frank–squarely in my happy place.
Justin and I went to Fredericksburg, Virginia on a beautiful fall day a couple of weeks ago.
I fell in love.
“Each day is a little life: every waking and rising a little birth, every fresh morning a little youth, every going to rest and sleep a little death.”
arthur Schopenhauer
Okay, you put the kettle on, and I’ll talk about tea.
Continue reading