Lately, everything I write are from prompts. Even when I think that I will take a day off from the prompts, I find myself up at nearly midnight in a panic that I am going to miss writing on the words or photos of the day. I remember when I did not even know about prompts, and was capable of expounding quite well on topics.
Today, it is cold here, and, while I don’t want to speed my life to its end, I cannot wait for May and our trip to Pescara, Italy. I foresee great food, Roman ruins, cathedrals galore, great art, and eating gelato until its coming out of my ears! We are vacillating again about where we will spend some of our retirement, and it is because I have been sick in one form or another since returning home from Spain.
It is a fact that I am never sick when we travel, so one of my doctors told us to consider if living part of the year in Europe would make my retirement more enjoyable. Upon hearing the diagnosis from my doctor, the one daughter against our moving to Europe is now saying that if we plan to visit each year, then maybe it will be okay. Douglas’ daughter even sent us news of places in Italy paying for residents, which shocked us both.
I let them believe that they are instrumental in helping make the decision for us, a diplomatic strategy I employed as a Sociology professor. Telling students that their papers stunk led to bad feelings and awful evaluations for me at the end of the semester. But, asking the students if they thought that the paper was not their best work always ended in a much better paper and fewer hurt feelings.
If I had my way, and Douglas would retire completely, I would be in Bilbao, Spain today, looking forward to visiting San Sebastian, taking a train to Barcelona, and taking a bus across the Pyrenees into France. My travel dreams are always over the top, but it makes life so interesting to contemplate the possibilities.
There were times when I was in my forties and early fifties that I traveled alone, not really worried about being hurt or accosted, although I did have that run-in with a beggar woman in Madrid that put hairs on my chest. But, Switzerland and the French Alps alone was one of my best trips.
I went where I wanted, when I wanted, and stayed as long as I wanted. I met some really nice people who were friendly with a single, middle-aged woman, who seemed invincible.
But now, in my sixties, I hesitate to travel without Douglas. I worry about falling or becoming sick without someone with me to communicate with doctors and help me to get home to America. When we travel, we stay in Airbnb apartments, and we have never had a bad experience. But, if I traveled alone, I would stay in hotels, for the safety aspect and because I will not cook for one person while traveling to places with great cuisines.
So, I am thinking about it, mainly because my faith in God the Father watching over me is stronger today than in the past. I have lived through some events that only can be explained as miraculous and which have convinced me of the love and goodness of God. Joshua 1:9 is my traveler’s code: This is my command—be strong and courageous! Do not be afraid or discouraged. For the Lord your God is with you wherever you go.”
I would like to hear comments from any older women, ages 40s-90s (yeah, I hope to still be traveling in the ninth decade), who have traveled alone. How did you fare? Would you recommend it today?
Well, look at that. I wrote a post without a prompt! But, admittedly, I already finished the ones with the prompts earlier today! Habits are hard to break, especially when you love it and you have such great people reading and commenting!