On Travel

Los Angeles. Miami. Boston. Atlanta. Dallas. Chicago. Seattle. San Francisco. Phoenix. Portland. San Juan. San Diego. Houston. Tampa. This is just a selection of cities to which I have traveled over the past year. I'm often asked what it is like to travel. Soooo....here it goes - this is what I think. Travel sounds glamorous: A new city every week (or even every day on some trips), eating out every night, meeting new people every day, seeing new sites, experiencing new cultures.

In actuality, it has its moments. Some are pretty great like uninterrupted sleep when you have an infant who is sleeping in his crib at home in 3-hour intervals. Some are not so great like trying to identify strategies to avoid contracting debilitating illnesses when you have to ride in taxi cabs on a regular basis or trying to locate a hotel with availability when the last flight out of Mobile has been cancelled.

You develop a degree of patience you did not think possible while simultaneously becoming intolerant of those who are unable to heed the TSA's repeated reminders on liquids. (No, you cannot take the 1-liter bottle of water through security even if you just bought it)

One starts to thrive on frequent traveler perk programs as status becomes a benefit and a way to justify 75+ nights in a hotel in a given year. Yet there is sort of a sense of shame that goes with each sequential leap to platinum status in a program.

You miss things, people, and some occasions. You miss putting your son to bed, talking to your husband in person, taking your dogs for a walk, going to the local movie theater. But you get to see things that some people are never able to set eyes upon. Sunrise over the Atlantic. Little Havana. Navy Seals training at dawn on Coronado Island. Sunset over the Pacific. The Willard Hotel at Christmas.

In short, it is a study of contrasts. Some good, some not. But it's a lifestyle. And it's mine, for now.