Wednesday, January 05, 2011


I know a lot of people who love being in new and interesting places but hate the hours spent getting there. Airports, lines, buses, cancellations, waiting, waiting, endlessly waiting – it’s painful. Faces of resignation: set to endure the whole complicated mess of travel.

Not so for me. Okay, I don’t love snafus and angry crowds and missed connections and lost luggage. But I’m in a travel trance when I leave home pulling a bag behind me. The challenge of imagining the best possible trip starts with the idea, but it really springs forward when you lock the door to your home and set out.

My occasional traveling companion is joining me for a trip back to where the unfriendly skies dealt my daughter and I such a harsh (and yet so fantastically memorable) time back in December, on the trip to see my family in Poland. That was then. This trip, long planned and worked for, is going to be different. The weather has settled down over that other continent (even as it is snowing in Madison, but we – flex proud muscle here – we know how to handle snow! Yeah!).


There, across the ocean, I understand the clouds have released a steady stream of rain and more rain. Flights don’t get cancelled for rain. Right?

The marathon effort to get most of my next semester’s course planning done is finally, finally behind me. We’re off. First the city bus, then another city bus, then a flight to Detroit, then to Paris (no stopovers! Please, keep that airport sane!), and then, immediately connecting to...

I’m jumping ahead of myself. We’re off. I’ll write when we get there, me and my occasional traveling companion – sprained ankle and all.