A poem on my feelings about travel:

What is it about planes, trains, boats, and cars that becons me so?

Why when I book that ticket to a far off land my hear is heigher then a jet plane?

Born traveler, you say? I have tasted the wine of wander. The rush of a foreign winds, the heat of Roman a summer.

And, you can’t take away my wander. I am wanderer. People tell me to grow roots, to settle. But they have never felt the rush of a far off sea; for if they had, they would understand. I am wanderer, you can’t take it our of me.

I am a wanderer. You can’t take it out of me.



Normandy 20130726-Normandy


(First trip to:) Italy 

20130726-italy 1

(Second trip to) Italy20130726-rome 2

 (Second trip to) London

20130726-london 1

(First trip to) London20130726-london 2


(Trip #1 to) Oxford 20130726-oxford 2

(Second trip to) Oxford 20130726-oxford 1



One thought on “Travel

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