Across the street from my apartment in Torre Del Mar, Spain
As a longterm international adventurer turned travel blogger, the past sixteen years of my life have been filled with experiences scattered across the globe. Never in a million years did I expect to one day have a large percentage of the world's borders closed to my passport. Never! I figured I'd be returning to my apartment in Spain every year for at least another decade before old age demanded that I slow down. Yet, here I am, unable to spend my 2020 winter months in Torre Del Mar as planned nor does 2021 look very promising either. Heck! I can't even cross the border to Canada. Who would've ever guessed that?
In this bizarro world where up is down and backwards is forwards, I've been practicing social isolation and wearing a mask with the best of them. I've not gotten sick, thankfully. However, when I look into my travel-crystal ball, my resolve to stay well weakens just a tad. I'm turning seventy in January. I don't have a lot of years to waste on a pandemic. My travel urges remain strong but the idea of instant gratification is a stupid idea, as stupid as an alcoholic taking a sip of vodka. Yes, I'm addicted to travel. I can't stop with just one sip.
On the isle of Gozo almost 16 year ago
So, what does a travel addict do under the current circumstances besides long for a vaccine? Well, we read about travel, we revisit photos of past travel adventures, we write about travel destinations and we take up camping. I took up camping this past fall. It allowed me to enjoy a few little trips without a lot of risk. My intentions are to camp again this coming spring, summer and fall. Camping was like sipping a glass of flavored sparkling water, alcohol free but a step above plain water.
Our six-man tent
Don't get me wrong, I love camping. Although I sincerely doubt that I would've gone to the trouble, camping is a lot of work, if the pandemic hadn't made an unwelcome appearance. Turns out that camping was a nice respite from sheltering in place. Please know that this travel adventurer did not camp in an RV either. No, my husband and I own a six person tent and so we drug it out, along with other camping gear and tested our wilderness fortitude. Turns out, we enjoyed ourselves immensely. We didn't go too far from home, however, as it was late fall before we had decided to camp for the first time in many years. We enjoyed a few days at Pokagon State Park and another stint farther south at Turkey Run. Both are Indiana parks with places to pitch a tent. We hiked, cooked over a fire, slept under the stars and communed with nature. It was gorgeous.
Here's to the future of international travel
In my spare time, I'm still doing what I've done for sixteen years, planning trips abroad. While I wait for the long anticipated day when COVID is no longer the #1 threat of modern existence, however, I also peruse the Internet looking for campgrounds in the Smoky Mountains, the desert, and the Upper Peninsula. I dream of renting airbnb apartments in Scotland while exploring a place to pitch a tent outside Santa Fe. I can do both it appears with a measure of joy. Maybe not an equal measure, but certainly joy is present either way. Will I still camp if and when I can return to my apartment in Spain? I wonder. Until then, however, I will be the best camper possible. That's my plan and I'm sticking to it.
Crossing the bridge to the Upper Peninsula
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