This is a post I recently wrote for the travel and food blog I started up with my family! Check it out.
A TPE Introduction: Finding Love, Meaning and Oompa Loompah in Hondura
I blame my wandering, travel hungry ways on my mom who, when I was growing up became restless and agitated if we stayed still for too long. Each Sunday and many weekends we’d take off into the mountains or go to the desert to explore unknown places on the map. Every summer she’d pack my sister and I into the car and drive us cross country to see our Great Grandmother DeeDee in Arkansas.
It was exciting to be in the car with mom. She stopped at weird mid-western highway attractions and showed us how to track the routes and mileage on a map so we could be her co-pilots. We took back roads. We snacked on gorp in the car and we made traveling cheaply a game that we all enjoyed and endeavored to win by beating our previous spending record.
Now I’m nearly the age my mother was when she started taking us on these adventures and I can safely say that I’ve been blessed with this same agita to wander off and see something new when life starts to seem humdrum. Generally, the feeling hits about every two months if I haven’t gone anywhere and in the spring of this year, I decided it was time hit the road. I sold my furniture and packed up what was left figuring at some point I’d know where I was going. It’s been two and a half months of a “home-free” lifestyle and lately every conversation with friends and family seems to be an excited “Where are you headed next? What’s your plan, again?” With this question being asked again and again, it seems like a good time to launch Travel. Play. Eat- the food and travel blog that my sister and brother in law have been talking about launching for a few months now.
My co -conspirators on this little blog are my sister and her husband Brian. I would like to think it was our travel and adventure seeking spirits that led us all to meet and Becca and Brian to fall in love nearly twenty years ago…
Keep reading! It’s kind of a good story.
I was fourteen years old and had been itching to travel and do some humanitarian work ever since the fifth grade. Mr. Sharp, my long haired hippie teacher, had his friends from the Peace Corp come to our classroom to tell us all about their time in Africa. I was amazed by their photos and stories and was like-"YES, I want to kill King Cobras with rocks and teach girls how to read!” Becca had the same fifth grade teacher and and we more than likely talked about how we wanted to get out and see the world and do something to make a difference. We grew our hair long and wore Birkenstocks and Becca joined Greenpeace. And then, one day, I remember her saying “Audj, I heard about this church that’s taking a bunch of kids to Honduras to rebuild from the hurricane. We gotta start going so we can go on the trip!” Never a churchgoer growing up and a bit skeptical of the whole thing, I didn’t go the first year but when the second year came around I was on board. Our mom decided to go with us too...Continue Reading