When people ask me where I want to travel, I say, “Everywhere.”
I’m so thankful that I was raised by travelers. They instilled their wanderlust in me at a young age, and with their genetics and support, I was 13 years old the first time I traveled to Europe (Germany and France) with a friend and flew home through Chicago’s O’Hare airport to Denver by myself. On that trip, we learned to get creative with the boiled potatoes that Julie’s Oma cooked every night, I was fascinated by the ice cream and chocolate selections, and I learned the pure joy that can come from a crusty baguette and good cheese. I was 17 years old when I went to Spain and had Spanish omelettes, paella, sautéed octopus, tapas, and a bocadillo de pollo (chicken sandwich) that I still think about. I was 18 when I first visited Mexico on my senior trip (though that took a lot of deal-making with my mom & dad, and the food wasn’t the main attraction).
By that time, I had been to Honolulu, Hawai’i several times, had fallen in love with it, and was dead set on moving there someday. I got that opportunity from 2006-2008. Anyone who’s been there knows it’s a unique culinary scene, and loco moco and kalua pig with cabbage are still two of my favorite dishes to make at home when I’m missing the islands.
So, I go places. Always have, always will. The beach is my happy place, but there’s not a spot I wouldn’t go if given the opportunity. When my best friend was living overseas in Jordan, I used every penny I had to buy a plane ticket there and stay at her place. I met another bestie at a bar and she said, “I’m going to St. Thomas. Wanna go?” And we went, barely knowing each other, and have continued to travel with each other ever since.
I met a man a few years ago who I am madly…ridiculously….wait, what word did he tell me to write? Kidding. I met my forever person, we’ll call him “TMK”, and our senses of adventure and compatible vacation styles have blended into a blessed life of love, travel, and (mostly) incredible food. He’s hotel bougie, I’m food bougie, and we both love passport stamps, which makes for some pretty incredible trips, though we both still enjoy vacationing on our own and/or with our other friends.
My VERY best friend is an American Staffordshire/Australian Cattle dog mix called Willow. She’s always down for a road trip (or to just go anywhere I go), and we try to have Girl Time Adventures together when we can, checking out small mountain towns or driving through the Arizona desert, she’s the best copilot in the whole world. I’ve also tried to instill that same adventurousness in my son, and we’ve had some awesome trips together as well, including Honolulu (where he was born), and Chicago for the Riot Fest music festival. As he prepares to head out into the world and travel without either of his parents present, I hope he’ll remember what I’ve always told him: Life is about experiences, not things. And one of life’s great experiences is good food.
So, I eat things. Even when I was dead broke, good food mattered. At age 19, I was living in my little apartment on server’s wages and when I wanted to treat myself, I’d go to Par Avion, a gourmet foods shop within walking distance, always trying to find a cheese that matched what I remembered from France. I’m fascinated with knowing the source of my food. One of my favorite dining experiences ever (so far) was at the Blancaneaux resort in the Belizean jungle, where we got to tour their garden on the grounds and meet the chickens who laid the eggs for our breakfast, while the staff prepared an entire meal from that garden – entirely vegan and insanely delicious! We ate outside and had the whole place to ourselves. Amazing. I want to find the perfect taco. The tie right now goes to one I had after a cenote dive near Tulum, Mexico, in a little village where they still speak Maya and they cooked everything, including the pillowy, handmade tortillas, outdoors over open flame, and the habanero salsa was satisfyingly spicy, and the ones at a bar called Lucy’s in Aruba, where they used iceberg lettuce (which would usually be a criminal offense) but was shockingly tasty.
I like taking chances and being surprised by things (like iceberg lettuce on my precious taco). Who knew that St. Louis, Missouri, has some of the best Italian food in the world due to its historical Mafia presence? Or that hibiscus flowers can be cooked up into a taco? Or that complimenting a woman’s freshly caught fish as she’s cleaning it out with ocean water would lead to a fantastic plate lunch (fish included) that was cooked right there on the beach?
So, I live my fucking life. I don’t want to look back and say, “I wish I would’ve done that.” Those moments are bound to happen but I try to avoid it, at least. From skydiving to cliff jumping, to zip lines over alligator pits and ATV rides over suspension bridges, SCUBA diving or swimming with sharks in the wild (and petting one before getting yelled at), I’m in.
So let’s go!