In the summer of 2010 I traveled to Scotland. Without my family. There were a couple of reasons for this, the first of which was, the boys were on a major 10 day camping trip with the boy scouts and I did not want to stay home alone. The second of which is, after reading Diana Gabaldon’s Outlander saga, I had to visit. A girlfriend from college had been there the summer before, and I called her up to see if she wanted to go with me. She did, and so we went. I wanted to keep an account of my trip, and thought I would blog about it. The Romantic Traveler is the result. Some of it has been posted before on another blogging sight and some of it is a new and hopefully improved attempt at travel blogging.
It has now morphed into more of a photography/writing project for travels. It seems that things happen when I travel. I love telling the stories that result from misadventures. The misadventures began when I was 15 when I went to a southern California beach for the day and my step-mother’s car keys fell out of my jacket unnoticed in the sand–something we caught on the old reel film. We had to be rescued, of course, and that seemed to set in motion a life full of just such adventures. Later there were things like a radiator that needed to be rodded out in my ’77 Honda Civic–something I learned while returning from college via route 66 through desert highways (not a good combo with an overheating car), and learning to navigate flying into Gatwick and out of Heathrow when my biggest travel experience to date at the time was driving across the U.S.
Usually when I come back with these experiences, people find it hard to believe that so many things could happen to one person. As for me? I’ve now grown to realize that these are the things that make the story worth telling. I hope you’ll agree.