“The world is a book and those who do not travel read only one page.” ~St. Augustine
I recently asked a random question of my parents regarding my first international airline adventure and how many segments there were to the trip. The difference in response from each parent is remarkable. My mother informed me that we flew through Germany … and we did, but there was so much more involved. My father answered the question as well and, since we are so much alike, was incredibly detailed and thorough as if he knew exactly what information I was looking to find. What resulted is a pretty simple explanation for why I love to travel. It is ingrained. I was introduced very, very early in life to travel and I have been globetrotting ever since.
Late December 1974. I was just over four months old and my family was returning to Kenya. This would be my first trip:
Fort Smith, Arkansas --> Kansas City, MO
We stopped here for a day or two to visit a church my father had pastored while in seminary.
Kansas City, MO --> Cleveland, OH
Another stop. This was the closest airport to my maternal grandfather in Pennsylvania who was getting remarried on Christmas Day.
Cleveland, OH --> New York City, NY
New York City, NY --> Paris, France
We spent an overnight with missionary friends that were located there in France.
Paris, France --> Frankfurt, Germany
Here we took the train to visit my aunt and uncle who were stationed in Germany with the military.
Frankfurt, Germany --> Rome, Italy
Rome, Italy --> Addis Ababa, Ethiopia
At this point we had reached New Years Eve and I spent my first new year on an airplane. Truly, this explains so much. We spent an overnight in Addis Ababa with more missionary friends before finally …
Addis Ababa, Ethiopia --> Nairobi, Kenya
I will question my wanderlust no more.
“For my part, I travel not to go anywhere, but to go. I travel for travel’s sake. The great affair is to move.” ~Robert Louis Stevenson, Scottish Novelist