When I was twenty-one I hopped on a plane to live in a dorm in at a university in Central Mexico and there I fell deeply madly in love. Not with a man, but with adventure. With travel. With the love all new things. With the simple smell of sunshine. I fell in love with trying new foods. With spending hours winding through meandering markets. I fell in love with rickety chicken buses where all my great dreams were born. I fell in love with boarding planes, with flipping through my passport stamps, and with staring longingly at my photos when I returned home.
Back then I barely had a peso to my name and yet I returned again and again to the place that first stole my heart. Over the years, my love for the adventure and travel haven’t waned. I have rolled cocoa beans in the mountains of Panama, I have taught kindergarten to smiling children in South Korea and I have held my dear husband’s hand as we stared in awe at hundreds of wild flamingos in Curacao.
I am a business owner. I am a mother. I am a sun seeker. I am a lifelong traveler.
I have cultivated my travel tastes over the years and have to say I prefer the Marriott over a $25 hotel these days, but I still love a great street taco and a bargain at the market. And of course, there’s nothing like the quiet space of travel to fill my mind with peace.