I was just reading an article about this woman's most gorgeous travels. There was the sea and the sand and oozing papayas and brilliant limes and avocado smeared onto bread and red bikinis and hammocks and everything else that I hope is in heaven or I don't want to go there. I don't even want to post a link to her blissful vacation because I'm too jealous and childish. Oh alright... here it is. 

I experienced a tidal wave of envy that hasn't happened since I met a girl in Rome who, over a cappucinno, informed me that she had won a grant to travel around Europe and - get this - "observe and write about the behavior of people traveling around Europe". Ha Ha... "Isn't that wild?" she beamed. She was actually sitting there and getting paid to have a coffee with me under a Roman arch, in what had become my most favorite city in the world. I had a week left on my trip and about $27 in my bank account and was trying to figure out if one could subsist on water and gelato only for the remainder of my time. I was also trying to figure out what crazy Dr. Seuss land this girl came from where they handed out party favors of such magnitude. I mean seriously...

But back to the point. The point being that I am very jealous. So jealous that I'm still scowling and have just finished looking up last minute flight deals to anywhere with a beach or a colluseum. This is one of the blessings and burdens of being unemployed.  On the one hand, I'm pretty much free to take off whenever I want and see the world! On the other hand I can pretty much spend all my money to take off and see the world with no prospect of any gainful employment for when I come back and o my gosh I can't buy food!  I have thought about this dilema a lot and the travel keeps winning out. I can't help it. I feel the most beautiful weight of the world when I travel. I don't know how else to describe it. All I know is that when I step off a train or a plane into a land I have only seen in photos, I have to bite my lip to keep the tears from taking over. Sometimes I don't even try to stop them. It's a spiritual thing. Not everywhere provokes this reaction mind you. The feeling varies but that awe is always there a little.  But no where will put me over the edge more than a land with thousands of years of history that is still in plain site. Ruins, castles, cobblestone stairways and marble sculptures will get me every time. When I stood at Isabella's bedroom window at the Segovian Castle in Spain, all I could think was that this is where she took refuge just before she was made Queen. The King had died and the crown was in question and in this very room she probably paced. And how many countless times since had she stood at that window? I am the first to admit my imagination does get going:) 

 A few months ago I caught a clip of the movie The Motorcycle Diaries. I have never seen the whole movie but now I would really like to. The scene I caught on t.v. was perfect. The main character was looking out over Machu Piccu, the lost city of the Incas. I had just been there and he said something that described my thoughts perfectly when I had stood looking at the same crumbling city. "How can I feel nostalgia for a world I never knew?"

And oh the tears came. I mean who writes this stuff and can I marry them? 

Anyway I'm looking forward to my next trip. I don't know when and I don't know where but hopefully someday I... oh wait. I am going to Mexico in April. OK, so I know when and where. It doesn't have quite the same pull as Italy but I'll take it. 

Until next time...