1973: When It All Began
What is the reason, or reasons, behind travel being "in your blood"? Is it nature or is it nurture? My dad, born into a poor family in Pennsylvania, did not travel as a child. But one of his football coaches also taught him geography, and somehow "Rock" inspired him with the mystique of other lands. Dad graduated as an All-American football player from Harvard and met my mom the next year. Mom, raised in the affluent Chicago North-shore suburb of Winnetka, had more opportunity to travel through much of Europe, and she was fluent in French. It's difficult to say who was more adventurous. Between the two of them, my brother and I were destined to see distant places.
In the spring of 1973, we began what became years of traveling through South America and Europe in VW pop-top campers. Mom camper-schooled us a little bit, but they had the faith that travel would be our greatest teacher.
The trend now is to collect memories, not things. And way-back-then, that is exactly what we did.
That's me, crossing Lake Titicaca.
My brother photographing me. Obviously I was the Loch Ness monster.
How beautiful is she?
These kiddos were family friends who lived in Paris. (I'm in the yellow-checked dress.)
Look at my mom! The brunette Brigitte Bardot!
Our family at The Equator
Another family at The Amazon
Mikey, Mom, and me.
The road had washed out due to a mudslide.
A gaucho.
Before Jamie became famous; the Scottish Highlands
I always had my ribbons in my hair! Venice.
Dad shaving. What professional wouldn't love to shave his face while perched on a rock? We always had a poster in our campers that said, "Happy are those who dream dreams and are ready to pay the price to make them come true."
Morocco. Who had better hair?
Collect memories, not things.