By the time the army took me for my first airplane ride a half a century ago I had crossed the United States three times. Twice by train, the glorious Santa Fe Chief and 20th Century Limited, and once by Greyhound Bus. The army flight was from California to Georgia on a chartered propeller driven Flying Tiger aircraft with flames shooting out of the engines. I could see the engines exhaust from my canvas seat that was slotted into the floor of the freight aircraft. I told the stewardess what was clearly wrong. She laughed and told me it was ok. I could do nothing but take her word for it. Travel has always been much like that flight. There always seems to be a moment or circumstance where I am no longer in control.
A lot has changed since that flight. Not much of it good, in my opinion. Travel is, however, still exciting. Seeing and experiencing the marvels of new places, cultures, foods, even the magic quality of the light north of Rome. Today is Wednesday and the fact that I am flying to Italy on Friday makes me think about the first time I experienced that phenomenon. It brings my thinking about this blog together. I had been a group travel manager. Nevertheless, the act of traveling is ultimately personal. The closer the flight to Italy gets the more the details begin: What have I forgotten? Will I arrive at the airport on time? Will flames shoot out of the engines?
This blog will be about travel, my opinions, experiences and stories about other people too. It will only be fun if people read it, have comments and questions. We will see.
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