I am not Rick Steves (but my wardrobe might be)
Have you noticed how many travel blogs there are? I’m going to guess it’s somewhere around a gazillion. They’re written by couples, singles, people in their 20s, people in their 70s, all kinds of people! They tell you where to go, what to do, what not to do (sometimes condescendingly), and even what feminine product to take with you (I promise I won’t go there).
I am none of those blogs. And I don’t aspire to be Rick Steves (although I worry my work attire trends that direction…really it’s because of the khakis…and I can’t wear heels anymore). In fact, I don’t even get to travel that much (OK. That’s debatable. I think I travel more than a lot of people I know, but not as much as I would like to and certainly not as much as some travel blogs would have you believe you should.)
My husband actually set this blog up for me after several distressing years of trying to conceive. After an ectopic pregnancy, I finally started writing. And the writing happens in spurts. I also have a day job with an arts organization that eats up most of my time. And I really enjoy sleeping. And I’m totally going to write a book…one day…about a fantastical kingdom with dragons! Wait. What? Someone’s already done that?
So until then, I’m writing about the little bit of travel I’m doing. And occasionally, I’ll veer off about how mean people suck or how you should be nicer to your fellow human. I also like food. Also, there’s this YouTube channel where I drink with my friend and…mostly we drink.
But the whole time I’ll be thinking about going somewhere, even when sitting still.