Somewhere Else

After my mom and nephew passed away, I felt I wanted to go SOMEWHERE. I didn't know or care where, I just wanted to see something and appreciate being alive. I cannot take any exciting road trips just yet, but to bide my time until I can, I started to read adventurous books. I've read a few recently such as books by Jack Kerouac and a biography of French poet Arthur Rimbaud. Jack Kerouac and friends traveled to exotic and interesting locations (America from a train or the seat of a car in "On the Road" and "Dharma Bums"). Rimbaud was a (perhaps insane) complex intellectual who fled the boredom of France (and his ruined reputation) for other lands—namely England, Harrar, Ethiopia, Java, Cyprus, Egypt and other places that would have been particularly exotic to a Westerner in the late 1800's. Even Bob Dylan frequently sings to me about mysterious places, especially on the album Desire. Dylan speaks of the "magical land" of Mozambique; ice covered pyramids, and drinking white rum in a Portugal bar. Yes, there is a lot to see in this world. I can only imagine what an exciting world is Out THERE—someplace far from the strip malls and 9-5 office job of my world.

I intend to travel as much as possible in my life. I have already been to many places. I have eaten Haggis and stood in a field of heather in Scotland, walked aimlessly along the Thames in England, and I have taken a walk in a beautiful garden in Paris. I've listened to traditional Irish music in a pub in Ireland, and taken a ferry from the bitterly cold Wales across the Irish Sea. I've been to Scotland and England a few times. London is one of my favorite cities. It's alive with the ghosts of its inhabitants from eras long ago. Edinburgh is London's rural cousin.

I have seen magnificent scenery in America too. Florida has picturesque jewel colored beaches with sand as white as powder. The south in general has gorgeous wildflowers, swiftly flowing rivers and antebellum architecture. I've not been too far west, but I spent a few years in Texas. While camping in the West Texas desert, I was overcome with wonder as I gazed at the brightest stars I'd ever seen. Wild hogs wandered aimlessly through the desert. While crossing the Rio Grande into Mexico on a donkey, I took in the vibrantly colored houses against the sienna colored sand in a small Mexican border town. I even ate in that town, and it was delicious. That is where I discovered chorizo sausage. I've stayed in a commune in Wyoming, been stranded in snowy Colorado, and I've passed through a deserted gold mining town in Utah. I've seen real cowboys riding along the plains, elegant wild horses and buffalo grazing against snow-capped scenery.

But I've never seen California. As a matter of fact, I've never seen the Pacific coast at all. I long to see the redwoods of California and the majestic coastal forests along the Oregon and Washington shorelines. Until I make it there this summer, I will read about far away lands and the accounts of adventurers and restless dreamers like myself. Traveling makes me feel alive.