On the Banks of the Danube
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It may seem to those who do not live all year ‘round in a “vacation destination” that they would never leave home if they lived near the beach or a ski slope, or even a big and exciting city. I leave near the beach; very near the beach. I have the Gulf of Mexico on one side and the Tampa Bay on the other. There is water and sand and sea breezed every day of the year. While this was exhilarating when I first arrived here to live almost 10 years ago, it has not lost some of its charm. I will be driving along for an errand, look out the car window and realize I am riding along the water. It almost comes as a shock of realization that I live near the shore. I often forget.
What I want is the opportunity to get away from the beach and travel to someplace completely different. I am yearning for the day that Gigi is mature enough to appreciate a trip to Europe. I’ve all but got my trip mapped out and tucked up tight. When it gets white-hot in Florida, I am thinking about Bulgarian holidays, the Black Sea, and sight-seeing trips to see some of the mediaeval architecture in areas that can still be affordable for travel, even on a weak dollar. I have a dear friend who passed away a couple years ago who was raised on the banks of the Denube. I often think it would be almost spiritual to stand and look at the land where she was born.
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