The Shrinking World

Anne here, pondering about how this world of ours is shrinking. Quite a few of my friends are heading overseas at the moment — some are already there, some have recently returned home, one is on a plane as we speak, and plenty more are preparing to go in the next few weeks. And they're not short journeys, either — in every case their destination is the other side of the world, changing hemispheres and seasons, as well as countries. Post card timbuktu

When I was a kid, the world was an enormous, unknowable place, and not only because I was a child, with a child's perspective. It was full of pockets of mystery. Timbuktoo was more or less a place of myth, a storybook place somewhere in the far, far beyond. Now several of my friends have been there. I have the postcards to prove it.

My parents loved to travel. Mum grew up devouring Richard Halliburton books — he was an American traveler — a real adventurer — and he wrote books about the places he visited.  She went on to collect the travel books of H. V. Morton, and later Bill Bryson's. Dad caught the travel bug from his time in the army, and the moment my parents got the opportunity, they carted us first around this country, and later overseas. 

When I was eight we went to Scotland for a year. We traveled to the UK by ship because Dad had a friend who was a manager of an Italian shipping line and he got us cheap tickets. It was still cheaper than air travel for a family. It took us a month to get to the UK.

RobertsSouthIn the 1800's it took between 6 months and a year to get from the UK to Australia. It was a huge journey, and a giant act of courage, not only because traveling by ship was dangerous — I was born in a part of Australia called the shipwreck coast — but with the distance, the time, the cost, they might as well have been going to live on the moon. Certainly most of them could never go home again.

This 1868 painting, by Australian artist Tom Roberts, is called Coming South and it gives a hint, I think, of the magnitude of the journey these people were undertaking, leaving all they knew behind them.

It's hard for us these days to understand how that must have felt. We can get on a plane for the UK or Italy and be there in a few hours — from Australia it's 20-something hours. It's quite hard, I think, for people today to understand how it must have felt when people left Europe to make a life in the New World, or crossed the continent by wagon, or by foot. It's even hard to imagine the difficulties people encountered making a journey from England to Scotland, and how most people rarely traveled more than a few miles from their birthplace.

Something of this was brought home to me in an emotional, visceral sense when I was a child. We were returning to Australia, again by ship. This was during a wave of migration to Australia from Italy, and though the ship had been half empty when we travelled to Europe, and almost empty when we left Southampton, when we got to Naples and Genoa, hundreds of people boarded, migrating to Australia.

I still remember standing squashed against the crowded ship's rail, with every Italian on board pressed against it, desperately drinking in their last sight of family and friends, of their homeland, calling out last minute messages, and throwing streamers. Streamers

Hundreds of brightly colored paper streamers flowed from the ship to the wharf, and oh, the heartbreak as the ship pulled away from the pier, with people weeping and weeping and the whole crowd swaying back and forth, singing "Arrivaderci Roma." And the grief as one by one the streamers broke. And how people stood, staring and silent until finally, no land could be sighted, and they turned, weeping, to seek their cabins.

To this day the memory gives me goosebumps and brings tears to my eyes. Such courage to leave everything and everyone they knew and loved, to cross the world in the hope of a better, new life. Not one person on that ship or that wharf thought they'd ever see their family or their homeland again.

But the world shrank. And many of those people have since returned — often — to visit, sometimes to bring their parents over to see the new life they've built, and to take the grandchildren back to the old country to meet their relatives and see where their family came from.

Distances are different today. We routinely cross the world, and nobody travels by ship, unless it's to take a leisure cruise. We phone and we email and we skype and the distance feels like nothing. The only thing that holds us back from traveling these days is time and money.

So what's the biggest journey you've taken—not necessarily the biggest in terms of distance, but the most momentous or emotional. And is there anywhere you itch to travel to?

245 thoughts on “The Shrinking World”

  1. I remember the day that my husband and I with our three small children left England for Australia. We were flying and when I saw the aeroplane I was amazed at the size of it, I declared that it was to big to fly.
    There was no one to see us off, I only had my mother and she didn’t approve of us leaving and my husband was out of touch with his family.
    When we arrived at Brisbane, the sun was shining and that was the first time I had seen the sun for over a month, I took a deep breath and felt I was home.

    Reply
  2. I remember the day that my husband and I with our three small children left England for Australia. We were flying and when I saw the aeroplane I was amazed at the size of it, I declared that it was to big to fly.
    There was no one to see us off, I only had my mother and she didn’t approve of us leaving and my husband was out of touch with his family.
    When we arrived at Brisbane, the sun was shining and that was the first time I had seen the sun for over a month, I took a deep breath and felt I was home.

    Reply
  3. I remember the day that my husband and I with our three small children left England for Australia. We were flying and when I saw the aeroplane I was amazed at the size of it, I declared that it was to big to fly.
    There was no one to see us off, I only had my mother and she didn’t approve of us leaving and my husband was out of touch with his family.
    When we arrived at Brisbane, the sun was shining and that was the first time I had seen the sun for over a month, I took a deep breath and felt I was home.

    Reply
  4. I remember the day that my husband and I with our three small children left England for Australia. We were flying and when I saw the aeroplane I was amazed at the size of it, I declared that it was to big to fly.
    There was no one to see us off, I only had my mother and she didn’t approve of us leaving and my husband was out of touch with his family.
    When we arrived at Brisbane, the sun was shining and that was the first time I had seen the sun for over a month, I took a deep breath and felt I was home.

    Reply
  5. I remember the day that my husband and I with our three small children left England for Australia. We were flying and when I saw the aeroplane I was amazed at the size of it, I declared that it was to big to fly.
    There was no one to see us off, I only had my mother and she didn’t approve of us leaving and my husband was out of touch with his family.
    When we arrived at Brisbane, the sun was shining and that was the first time I had seen the sun for over a month, I took a deep breath and felt I was home.

    Reply
  6. My first trip to Europe straight after three years of uni and still a baby … to call home you had to book a phone call and wait in the post office and eventually somebody would call, ‘Australia!’ and you’d rush to the phone and babble away and then it was over, you were all on your own again. And you were, no FB, no Skype, just far far away and you had to deal with it. I’ve subsequently travelled a lot and nothing compares to that lone journey to the European winter, not even a four yr old having a tantrum on the US/Mexican border or landing in Manila in the middle of a revolution. It’s so different now, you have to go so much further to test your wings.

    Reply
  7. My first trip to Europe straight after three years of uni and still a baby … to call home you had to book a phone call and wait in the post office and eventually somebody would call, ‘Australia!’ and you’d rush to the phone and babble away and then it was over, you were all on your own again. And you were, no FB, no Skype, just far far away and you had to deal with it. I’ve subsequently travelled a lot and nothing compares to that lone journey to the European winter, not even a four yr old having a tantrum on the US/Mexican border or landing in Manila in the middle of a revolution. It’s so different now, you have to go so much further to test your wings.

    Reply
  8. My first trip to Europe straight after three years of uni and still a baby … to call home you had to book a phone call and wait in the post office and eventually somebody would call, ‘Australia!’ and you’d rush to the phone and babble away and then it was over, you were all on your own again. And you were, no FB, no Skype, just far far away and you had to deal with it. I’ve subsequently travelled a lot and nothing compares to that lone journey to the European winter, not even a four yr old having a tantrum on the US/Mexican border or landing in Manila in the middle of a revolution. It’s so different now, you have to go so much further to test your wings.

    Reply
  9. My first trip to Europe straight after three years of uni and still a baby … to call home you had to book a phone call and wait in the post office and eventually somebody would call, ‘Australia!’ and you’d rush to the phone and babble away and then it was over, you were all on your own again. And you were, no FB, no Skype, just far far away and you had to deal with it. I’ve subsequently travelled a lot and nothing compares to that lone journey to the European winter, not even a four yr old having a tantrum on the US/Mexican border or landing in Manila in the middle of a revolution. It’s so different now, you have to go so much further to test your wings.

    Reply
  10. My first trip to Europe straight after three years of uni and still a baby … to call home you had to book a phone call and wait in the post office and eventually somebody would call, ‘Australia!’ and you’d rush to the phone and babble away and then it was over, you were all on your own again. And you were, no FB, no Skype, just far far away and you had to deal with it. I’ve subsequently travelled a lot and nothing compares to that lone journey to the European winter, not even a four yr old having a tantrum on the US/Mexican border or landing in Manila in the middle of a revolution. It’s so different now, you have to go so much further to test your wings.

    Reply
  11. Wow, Phillipa, I can tell you have some wonderful travelers tales to tell.
    I remember making one of those phone calls from Greece, and the whole post office turned to look at me. I was 20, I think.
    I'd given my parents a couple of places where they could send a letter — "poste restante"– and my mother wrote on every envelope "visitor to XXX" whatever country it was — as if that would make some post office person take extra good care of me. LOL. They probably didn't even read English. And certainly had no interest in me, other than to get rid of the letters.
    And good on you for traveling with littlies — though a tantrum on the Mexican border sounds a bit tough.
    And I would LOVE to hear your revolutionary landing story. Wow!

    Reply
  12. Wow, Phillipa, I can tell you have some wonderful travelers tales to tell.
    I remember making one of those phone calls from Greece, and the whole post office turned to look at me. I was 20, I think.
    I'd given my parents a couple of places where they could send a letter — "poste restante"– and my mother wrote on every envelope "visitor to XXX" whatever country it was — as if that would make some post office person take extra good care of me. LOL. They probably didn't even read English. And certainly had no interest in me, other than to get rid of the letters.
    And good on you for traveling with littlies — though a tantrum on the Mexican border sounds a bit tough.
    And I would LOVE to hear your revolutionary landing story. Wow!

    Reply
  13. Wow, Phillipa, I can tell you have some wonderful travelers tales to tell.
    I remember making one of those phone calls from Greece, and the whole post office turned to look at me. I was 20, I think.
    I'd given my parents a couple of places where they could send a letter — "poste restante"– and my mother wrote on every envelope "visitor to XXX" whatever country it was — as if that would make some post office person take extra good care of me. LOL. They probably didn't even read English. And certainly had no interest in me, other than to get rid of the letters.
    And good on you for traveling with littlies — though a tantrum on the Mexican border sounds a bit tough.
    And I would LOVE to hear your revolutionary landing story. Wow!

    Reply
  14. Wow, Phillipa, I can tell you have some wonderful travelers tales to tell.
    I remember making one of those phone calls from Greece, and the whole post office turned to look at me. I was 20, I think.
    I'd given my parents a couple of places where they could send a letter — "poste restante"– and my mother wrote on every envelope "visitor to XXX" whatever country it was — as if that would make some post office person take extra good care of me. LOL. They probably didn't even read English. And certainly had no interest in me, other than to get rid of the letters.
    And good on you for traveling with littlies — though a tantrum on the Mexican border sounds a bit tough.
    And I would LOVE to hear your revolutionary landing story. Wow!

    Reply
  15. Wow, Phillipa, I can tell you have some wonderful travelers tales to tell.
    I remember making one of those phone calls from Greece, and the whole post office turned to look at me. I was 20, I think.
    I'd given my parents a couple of places where they could send a letter — "poste restante"– and my mother wrote on every envelope "visitor to XXX" whatever country it was — as if that would make some post office person take extra good care of me. LOL. They probably didn't even read English. And certainly had no interest in me, other than to get rid of the letters.
    And good on you for traveling with littlies — though a tantrum on the Mexican border sounds a bit tough.
    And I would LOVE to hear your revolutionary landing story. Wow!

    Reply
  16. Twice I’ve moved, once from Africa to Greece (1970s)and once from Greece to the UK (1980s). For us it was an amazing adventure but hard, moving between languages and quite different cultures too. Schooling systems were different and it was quite challenging at times. We didn’t see some of our close relatives who we’d grown up with for nearly 18 years. Now though as you say, it’s all easier. It made us broader minded too. Now my brothers and sisters are divided between the UK and Greece and Switzerland and I have a Greek-Australian sister-in-law, a Croatian s-i-l and an Iranian-Chilean s-i-l who grew up in Sweden. Perhaps our world will gradually become more mixed like this as time goes by. It’s really exciting but I’m pleased that the trauma of saying goodbye has reduced. Sometimes I wonder what it would be like if there was some disaster or if travelling became too expensive again so I never take it for granted.

    Reply
  17. Twice I’ve moved, once from Africa to Greece (1970s)and once from Greece to the UK (1980s). For us it was an amazing adventure but hard, moving between languages and quite different cultures too. Schooling systems were different and it was quite challenging at times. We didn’t see some of our close relatives who we’d grown up with for nearly 18 years. Now though as you say, it’s all easier. It made us broader minded too. Now my brothers and sisters are divided between the UK and Greece and Switzerland and I have a Greek-Australian sister-in-law, a Croatian s-i-l and an Iranian-Chilean s-i-l who grew up in Sweden. Perhaps our world will gradually become more mixed like this as time goes by. It’s really exciting but I’m pleased that the trauma of saying goodbye has reduced. Sometimes I wonder what it would be like if there was some disaster or if travelling became too expensive again so I never take it for granted.

    Reply
  18. Twice I’ve moved, once from Africa to Greece (1970s)and once from Greece to the UK (1980s). For us it was an amazing adventure but hard, moving between languages and quite different cultures too. Schooling systems were different and it was quite challenging at times. We didn’t see some of our close relatives who we’d grown up with for nearly 18 years. Now though as you say, it’s all easier. It made us broader minded too. Now my brothers and sisters are divided between the UK and Greece and Switzerland and I have a Greek-Australian sister-in-law, a Croatian s-i-l and an Iranian-Chilean s-i-l who grew up in Sweden. Perhaps our world will gradually become more mixed like this as time goes by. It’s really exciting but I’m pleased that the trauma of saying goodbye has reduced. Sometimes I wonder what it would be like if there was some disaster or if travelling became too expensive again so I never take it for granted.

    Reply
  19. Twice I’ve moved, once from Africa to Greece (1970s)and once from Greece to the UK (1980s). For us it was an amazing adventure but hard, moving between languages and quite different cultures too. Schooling systems were different and it was quite challenging at times. We didn’t see some of our close relatives who we’d grown up with for nearly 18 years. Now though as you say, it’s all easier. It made us broader minded too. Now my brothers and sisters are divided between the UK and Greece and Switzerland and I have a Greek-Australian sister-in-law, a Croatian s-i-l and an Iranian-Chilean s-i-l who grew up in Sweden. Perhaps our world will gradually become more mixed like this as time goes by. It’s really exciting but I’m pleased that the trauma of saying goodbye has reduced. Sometimes I wonder what it would be like if there was some disaster or if travelling became too expensive again so I never take it for granted.

    Reply
  20. Twice I’ve moved, once from Africa to Greece (1970s)and once from Greece to the UK (1980s). For us it was an amazing adventure but hard, moving between languages and quite different cultures too. Schooling systems were different and it was quite challenging at times. We didn’t see some of our close relatives who we’d grown up with for nearly 18 years. Now though as you say, it’s all easier. It made us broader minded too. Now my brothers and sisters are divided between the UK and Greece and Switzerland and I have a Greek-Australian sister-in-law, a Croatian s-i-l and an Iranian-Chilean s-i-l who grew up in Sweden. Perhaps our world will gradually become more mixed like this as time goes by. It’s really exciting but I’m pleased that the trauma of saying goodbye has reduced. Sometimes I wonder what it would be like if there was some disaster or if travelling became too expensive again so I never take it for granted.

    Reply
  21. Anne, you brought tears to my eyes with your story of the ship leaving Italy. All that emotion! My Nan and Pop, mum’s mother and father left England by ship in the 1920’s with two kiddies, intending to come here for a year. Then their parents died and they didn’t feel like going home, and then the depression hit and they couldn’t, with four kiddies and Pop out of work by then.
    They never got to see London or home again. They made their home here in Australia and I guess I am lucky that they did.
    When hubby and I moved from Australia to the UK in the 90’s, even with 2 kids of our own by then, it was a much faster, more streamlined trip, and it was still a trial. I really don’t know how they did it back then. I guess they just had to cope with what they had. Maybe one day, when we can beam me up scotty, we’ll wonder that people survived 20 hour flights. That will be the day!
    Loved your blog

    Reply
  22. Anne, you brought tears to my eyes with your story of the ship leaving Italy. All that emotion! My Nan and Pop, mum’s mother and father left England by ship in the 1920’s with two kiddies, intending to come here for a year. Then their parents died and they didn’t feel like going home, and then the depression hit and they couldn’t, with four kiddies and Pop out of work by then.
    They never got to see London or home again. They made their home here in Australia and I guess I am lucky that they did.
    When hubby and I moved from Australia to the UK in the 90’s, even with 2 kids of our own by then, it was a much faster, more streamlined trip, and it was still a trial. I really don’t know how they did it back then. I guess they just had to cope with what they had. Maybe one day, when we can beam me up scotty, we’ll wonder that people survived 20 hour flights. That will be the day!
    Loved your blog

    Reply
  23. Anne, you brought tears to my eyes with your story of the ship leaving Italy. All that emotion! My Nan and Pop, mum’s mother and father left England by ship in the 1920’s with two kiddies, intending to come here for a year. Then their parents died and they didn’t feel like going home, and then the depression hit and they couldn’t, with four kiddies and Pop out of work by then.
    They never got to see London or home again. They made their home here in Australia and I guess I am lucky that they did.
    When hubby and I moved from Australia to the UK in the 90’s, even with 2 kids of our own by then, it was a much faster, more streamlined trip, and it was still a trial. I really don’t know how they did it back then. I guess they just had to cope with what they had. Maybe one day, when we can beam me up scotty, we’ll wonder that people survived 20 hour flights. That will be the day!
    Loved your blog

    Reply
  24. Anne, you brought tears to my eyes with your story of the ship leaving Italy. All that emotion! My Nan and Pop, mum’s mother and father left England by ship in the 1920’s with two kiddies, intending to come here for a year. Then their parents died and they didn’t feel like going home, and then the depression hit and they couldn’t, with four kiddies and Pop out of work by then.
    They never got to see London or home again. They made their home here in Australia and I guess I am lucky that they did.
    When hubby and I moved from Australia to the UK in the 90’s, even with 2 kids of our own by then, it was a much faster, more streamlined trip, and it was still a trial. I really don’t know how they did it back then. I guess they just had to cope with what they had. Maybe one day, when we can beam me up scotty, we’ll wonder that people survived 20 hour flights. That will be the day!
    Loved your blog

    Reply
  25. Anne, you brought tears to my eyes with your story of the ship leaving Italy. All that emotion! My Nan and Pop, mum’s mother and father left England by ship in the 1920’s with two kiddies, intending to come here for a year. Then their parents died and they didn’t feel like going home, and then the depression hit and they couldn’t, with four kiddies and Pop out of work by then.
    They never got to see London or home again. They made their home here in Australia and I guess I am lucky that they did.
    When hubby and I moved from Australia to the UK in the 90’s, even with 2 kids of our own by then, it was a much faster, more streamlined trip, and it was still a trial. I really don’t know how they did it back then. I guess they just had to cope with what they had. Maybe one day, when we can beam me up scotty, we’ll wonder that people survived 20 hour flights. That will be the day!
    Loved your blog

    Reply
  26. Anne, the biggest journey was not taken by me, but by my Dad. In 1929 he was nine years old and he was put on a ship called the Largs Bay and sent to Western Australia from England as a Fairbridge boy. He wasn’t an orphan, his mother was still alive and his father was as well, although their marriage had broken down. His mother had remarried and his step-father didn’t want to have Dad in the house. Dad’s sister had been farmed out to an aunt in England and Dad didn’t see her again for almost 50 years, when she came out to visit. Dad always said he was one of the lucky ones as it was the best thing that ever happened to him. Of course, there is a lot more to the story, but I still have difficulty getting my head around a nine year old boy alone on a journey of such magnitude!

    Reply
  27. Anne, the biggest journey was not taken by me, but by my Dad. In 1929 he was nine years old and he was put on a ship called the Largs Bay and sent to Western Australia from England as a Fairbridge boy. He wasn’t an orphan, his mother was still alive and his father was as well, although their marriage had broken down. His mother had remarried and his step-father didn’t want to have Dad in the house. Dad’s sister had been farmed out to an aunt in England and Dad didn’t see her again for almost 50 years, when she came out to visit. Dad always said he was one of the lucky ones as it was the best thing that ever happened to him. Of course, there is a lot more to the story, but I still have difficulty getting my head around a nine year old boy alone on a journey of such magnitude!

    Reply
  28. Anne, the biggest journey was not taken by me, but by my Dad. In 1929 he was nine years old and he was put on a ship called the Largs Bay and sent to Western Australia from England as a Fairbridge boy. He wasn’t an orphan, his mother was still alive and his father was as well, although their marriage had broken down. His mother had remarried and his step-father didn’t want to have Dad in the house. Dad’s sister had been farmed out to an aunt in England and Dad didn’t see her again for almost 50 years, when she came out to visit. Dad always said he was one of the lucky ones as it was the best thing that ever happened to him. Of course, there is a lot more to the story, but I still have difficulty getting my head around a nine year old boy alone on a journey of such magnitude!

    Reply
  29. Anne, the biggest journey was not taken by me, but by my Dad. In 1929 he was nine years old and he was put on a ship called the Largs Bay and sent to Western Australia from England as a Fairbridge boy. He wasn’t an orphan, his mother was still alive and his father was as well, although their marriage had broken down. His mother had remarried and his step-father didn’t want to have Dad in the house. Dad’s sister had been farmed out to an aunt in England and Dad didn’t see her again for almost 50 years, when she came out to visit. Dad always said he was one of the lucky ones as it was the best thing that ever happened to him. Of course, there is a lot more to the story, but I still have difficulty getting my head around a nine year old boy alone on a journey of such magnitude!

    Reply
  30. Anne, the biggest journey was not taken by me, but by my Dad. In 1929 he was nine years old and he was put on a ship called the Largs Bay and sent to Western Australia from England as a Fairbridge boy. He wasn’t an orphan, his mother was still alive and his father was as well, although their marriage had broken down. His mother had remarried and his step-father didn’t want to have Dad in the house. Dad’s sister had been farmed out to an aunt in England and Dad didn’t see her again for almost 50 years, when she came out to visit. Dad always said he was one of the lucky ones as it was the best thing that ever happened to him. Of course, there is a lot more to the story, but I still have difficulty getting my head around a nine year old boy alone on a journey of such magnitude!

    Reply
  31. Vasiliki, I've wondered about that, too — what will happen when the world runs out of oil/fuel, for instance? Let's hope, not in our time.
    I can only imagine how hard it must have been for you changing countries, languages, cultures and schooling systems. But I bet it has made you very adaptable and cosmopolitan in outlook.
    As for the family made up of people from everywhere, that's certainly becoming more and more common. I love it. I think it enriches us to have knowledge of and connections with a range of cultures.
    Thanks for visiting.

    Reply
  32. Vasiliki, I've wondered about that, too — what will happen when the world runs out of oil/fuel, for instance? Let's hope, not in our time.
    I can only imagine how hard it must have been for you changing countries, languages, cultures and schooling systems. But I bet it has made you very adaptable and cosmopolitan in outlook.
    As for the family made up of people from everywhere, that's certainly becoming more and more common. I love it. I think it enriches us to have knowledge of and connections with a range of cultures.
    Thanks for visiting.

    Reply
  33. Vasiliki, I've wondered about that, too — what will happen when the world runs out of oil/fuel, for instance? Let's hope, not in our time.
    I can only imagine how hard it must have been for you changing countries, languages, cultures and schooling systems. But I bet it has made you very adaptable and cosmopolitan in outlook.
    As for the family made up of people from everywhere, that's certainly becoming more and more common. I love it. I think it enriches us to have knowledge of and connections with a range of cultures.
    Thanks for visiting.

    Reply
  34. Vasiliki, I've wondered about that, too — what will happen when the world runs out of oil/fuel, for instance? Let's hope, not in our time.
    I can only imagine how hard it must have been for you changing countries, languages, cultures and schooling systems. But I bet it has made you very adaptable and cosmopolitan in outlook.
    As for the family made up of people from everywhere, that's certainly becoming more and more common. I love it. I think it enriches us to have knowledge of and connections with a range of cultures.
    Thanks for visiting.

    Reply
  35. Vasiliki, I've wondered about that, too — what will happen when the world runs out of oil/fuel, for instance? Let's hope, not in our time.
    I can only imagine how hard it must have been for you changing countries, languages, cultures and schooling systems. But I bet it has made you very adaptable and cosmopolitan in outlook.
    As for the family made up of people from everywhere, that's certainly becoming more and more common. I love it. I think it enriches us to have knowledge of and connections with a range of cultures.
    Thanks for visiting.

    Reply
  36. Thanks for popping in, Trish. Yes, I'm really looking forward to a reduction in those 20 hour flights.
    Tough for your nan and pop that they never were able to go back. I met an old guy on a ferry in Greece years ago who'd come out to Australia in the 1920's, made a pile of money, went back to Greece, intending just to get a wife, and then the depression hit, and then the war, and he never did come back to Australia. He said he wished he had, but I don't know. He looked pretty happy to me. *g*
    I'm sure it was rather a trial, traveling with two littlies. You did well.

    Reply
  37. Thanks for popping in, Trish. Yes, I'm really looking forward to a reduction in those 20 hour flights.
    Tough for your nan and pop that they never were able to go back. I met an old guy on a ferry in Greece years ago who'd come out to Australia in the 1920's, made a pile of money, went back to Greece, intending just to get a wife, and then the depression hit, and then the war, and he never did come back to Australia. He said he wished he had, but I don't know. He looked pretty happy to me. *g*
    I'm sure it was rather a trial, traveling with two littlies. You did well.

    Reply
  38. Thanks for popping in, Trish. Yes, I'm really looking forward to a reduction in those 20 hour flights.
    Tough for your nan and pop that they never were able to go back. I met an old guy on a ferry in Greece years ago who'd come out to Australia in the 1920's, made a pile of money, went back to Greece, intending just to get a wife, and then the depression hit, and then the war, and he never did come back to Australia. He said he wished he had, but I don't know. He looked pretty happy to me. *g*
    I'm sure it was rather a trial, traveling with two littlies. You did well.

    Reply
  39. Thanks for popping in, Trish. Yes, I'm really looking forward to a reduction in those 20 hour flights.
    Tough for your nan and pop that they never were able to go back. I met an old guy on a ferry in Greece years ago who'd come out to Australia in the 1920's, made a pile of money, went back to Greece, intending just to get a wife, and then the depression hit, and then the war, and he never did come back to Australia. He said he wished he had, but I don't know. He looked pretty happy to me. *g*
    I'm sure it was rather a trial, traveling with two littlies. You did well.

    Reply
  40. Thanks for popping in, Trish. Yes, I'm really looking forward to a reduction in those 20 hour flights.
    Tough for your nan and pop that they never were able to go back. I met an old guy on a ferry in Greece years ago who'd come out to Australia in the 1920's, made a pile of money, went back to Greece, intending just to get a wife, and then the depression hit, and then the war, and he never did come back to Australia. He said he wished he had, but I don't know. He looked pretty happy to me. *g*
    I'm sure it was rather a trial, traveling with two littlies. You did well.

    Reply
  41. Christine, I have read about those kids, sent to the other side of the world. Some had very hard lives — I'm so very glad your dad's story ended happily.
    And how wonderful that he got to meet his sister again.
    It was an amazing time. They did the same with kids to Canada, too, I think.
    Those stories fascinate me. I think of myself at that age and how it must have felt to be sent to the other side of the world, alone, to go and live with strangers. Heartbreaking stuff.
    Thank you so much for sharing.

    Reply
  42. Christine, I have read about those kids, sent to the other side of the world. Some had very hard lives — I'm so very glad your dad's story ended happily.
    And how wonderful that he got to meet his sister again.
    It was an amazing time. They did the same with kids to Canada, too, I think.
    Those stories fascinate me. I think of myself at that age and how it must have felt to be sent to the other side of the world, alone, to go and live with strangers. Heartbreaking stuff.
    Thank you so much for sharing.

    Reply
  43. Christine, I have read about those kids, sent to the other side of the world. Some had very hard lives — I'm so very glad your dad's story ended happily.
    And how wonderful that he got to meet his sister again.
    It was an amazing time. They did the same with kids to Canada, too, I think.
    Those stories fascinate me. I think of myself at that age and how it must have felt to be sent to the other side of the world, alone, to go and live with strangers. Heartbreaking stuff.
    Thank you so much for sharing.

    Reply
  44. Christine, I have read about those kids, sent to the other side of the world. Some had very hard lives — I'm so very glad your dad's story ended happily.
    And how wonderful that he got to meet his sister again.
    It was an amazing time. They did the same with kids to Canada, too, I think.
    Those stories fascinate me. I think of myself at that age and how it must have felt to be sent to the other side of the world, alone, to go and live with strangers. Heartbreaking stuff.
    Thank you so much for sharing.

    Reply
  45. Christine, I have read about those kids, sent to the other side of the world. Some had very hard lives — I'm so very glad your dad's story ended happily.
    And how wonderful that he got to meet his sister again.
    It was an amazing time. They did the same with kids to Canada, too, I think.
    Those stories fascinate me. I think of myself at that age and how it must have felt to be sent to the other side of the world, alone, to go and live with strangers. Heartbreaking stuff.
    Thank you so much for sharing.

    Reply
  46. Christine, your story made me think about the things children often have to endure when their world falls apart. I used to work with young homeless refugees — mainly from Vietnam and Cambodia. Many of them had been put on a boat in the dark, alone, with no warning, a desperate attempt by their parents to save their lives, to save at least one member of the family. Most ended up in refugee camps in other countries first, and then later came to Australia. Some of them were just children — 9 and 10 — when they last saw their families. Such fractured lives. Fractured families. Terrible.

    Reply
  47. Christine, your story made me think about the things children often have to endure when their world falls apart. I used to work with young homeless refugees — mainly from Vietnam and Cambodia. Many of them had been put on a boat in the dark, alone, with no warning, a desperate attempt by their parents to save their lives, to save at least one member of the family. Most ended up in refugee camps in other countries first, and then later came to Australia. Some of them were just children — 9 and 10 — when they last saw their families. Such fractured lives. Fractured families. Terrible.

    Reply
  48. Christine, your story made me think about the things children often have to endure when their world falls apart. I used to work with young homeless refugees — mainly from Vietnam and Cambodia. Many of them had been put on a boat in the dark, alone, with no warning, a desperate attempt by their parents to save their lives, to save at least one member of the family. Most ended up in refugee camps in other countries first, and then later came to Australia. Some of them were just children — 9 and 10 — when they last saw their families. Such fractured lives. Fractured families. Terrible.

    Reply
  49. Christine, your story made me think about the things children often have to endure when their world falls apart. I used to work with young homeless refugees — mainly from Vietnam and Cambodia. Many of them had been put on a boat in the dark, alone, with no warning, a desperate attempt by their parents to save their lives, to save at least one member of the family. Most ended up in refugee camps in other countries first, and then later came to Australia. Some of them were just children — 9 and 10 — when they last saw their families. Such fractured lives. Fractured families. Terrible.

    Reply
  50. Christine, your story made me think about the things children often have to endure when their world falls apart. I used to work with young homeless refugees — mainly from Vietnam and Cambodia. Many of them had been put on a boat in the dark, alone, with no warning, a desperate attempt by their parents to save their lives, to save at least one member of the family. Most ended up in refugee camps in other countries first, and then later came to Australia. Some of them were just children — 9 and 10 — when they last saw their families. Such fractured lives. Fractured families. Terrible.

    Reply
  51. I just received an email from a friend who has gone to Asia to be a volunteer teacher there. She quoted this at the end of her email:
    Of the gladdest moments in human life methinks, is the departure upon a distant journey into unknown lands.
    Shaking off with one mighty effort the fetters of habit, the leaden weight of routine, the cloak of many cares and the slavery of home, one feels once more happy.
    Richard Francis Burton 1856
    Anne’s note: the explorer, Richard Burton, of course, not the actor.

    Reply
  52. I just received an email from a friend who has gone to Asia to be a volunteer teacher there. She quoted this at the end of her email:
    Of the gladdest moments in human life methinks, is the departure upon a distant journey into unknown lands.
    Shaking off with one mighty effort the fetters of habit, the leaden weight of routine, the cloak of many cares and the slavery of home, one feels once more happy.
    Richard Francis Burton 1856
    Anne’s note: the explorer, Richard Burton, of course, not the actor.

    Reply
  53. I just received an email from a friend who has gone to Asia to be a volunteer teacher there. She quoted this at the end of her email:
    Of the gladdest moments in human life methinks, is the departure upon a distant journey into unknown lands.
    Shaking off with one mighty effort the fetters of habit, the leaden weight of routine, the cloak of many cares and the slavery of home, one feels once more happy.
    Richard Francis Burton 1856
    Anne’s note: the explorer, Richard Burton, of course, not the actor.

    Reply
  54. I just received an email from a friend who has gone to Asia to be a volunteer teacher there. She quoted this at the end of her email:
    Of the gladdest moments in human life methinks, is the departure upon a distant journey into unknown lands.
    Shaking off with one mighty effort the fetters of habit, the leaden weight of routine, the cloak of many cares and the slavery of home, one feels once more happy.
    Richard Francis Burton 1856
    Anne’s note: the explorer, Richard Burton, of course, not the actor.

    Reply
  55. I just received an email from a friend who has gone to Asia to be a volunteer teacher there. She quoted this at the end of her email:
    Of the gladdest moments in human life methinks, is the departure upon a distant journey into unknown lands.
    Shaking off with one mighty effort the fetters of habit, the leaden weight of routine, the cloak of many cares and the slavery of home, one feels once more happy.
    Richard Francis Burton 1856
    Anne’s note: the explorer, Richard Burton, of course, not the actor.

    Reply
  56. My strangest journey is a reverse of yourd. It was not about going to a strange country but one of getting home from foreign parts.
    I was driving from Abu Dhabi to Dubai on 11 September 2001. I had the radio off because I needed all my attention to deal with the traffic. The slow traffic moving along the right lane, Those of doing 60 mph or thereabouts in the middle lanes, and the locals and speed demons going 100 mph in the left lane. I got to my hotel and the back door was padlocked with an enormous chains. I went to the front desk late in the afternoon, and people were checking out. The clerk asked if I wanted to check in. I got to my room, and called the work travel agent back in the states. She told me I couldn’t rebook my flight to Fujairah because no aircraft were flying in the United States. I couldn’t comprehend such a bizarre idea. She told me to sit down, and turn on the TV. I have no idea if it was a replay or the real thing, but I watched one of the towers collapse.
    So now the task was to get back to the states. All Dubai to London flights were cancelled. So I spent several days in Dubai. The Embassy said I couldn’t go more than 3 blocks from my hotel to find food. I definitely couldn’t go to Jumairah Beach or the gold souk.
    After about three days, I saw a flight attendant in uniform, checking into my hotel. I called the airline to see if I could at least fly to London. I stood at a counter for a long time while they “checked” if I could get a seat. I saw a local in a thobe put a large bill into his passport when he was checking in. I then did the same thing, and voila a seat.
    I spent the next three days in London because I had a confirmed seat on the 18 September flight. It was a nightmare getting on the flight. A several hour wait on the top floor of a garage in a typical London mist/drizzle with portapotties without toilet paper. I got to security, and they said I could only have a small bag not two. So I consolidated and checked in the carry on bag.
    On landing in Dulles, the entire plane broke out into cheers and applause.

    Reply
  57. My strangest journey is a reverse of yourd. It was not about going to a strange country but one of getting home from foreign parts.
    I was driving from Abu Dhabi to Dubai on 11 September 2001. I had the radio off because I needed all my attention to deal with the traffic. The slow traffic moving along the right lane, Those of doing 60 mph or thereabouts in the middle lanes, and the locals and speed demons going 100 mph in the left lane. I got to my hotel and the back door was padlocked with an enormous chains. I went to the front desk late in the afternoon, and people were checking out. The clerk asked if I wanted to check in. I got to my room, and called the work travel agent back in the states. She told me I couldn’t rebook my flight to Fujairah because no aircraft were flying in the United States. I couldn’t comprehend such a bizarre idea. She told me to sit down, and turn on the TV. I have no idea if it was a replay or the real thing, but I watched one of the towers collapse.
    So now the task was to get back to the states. All Dubai to London flights were cancelled. So I spent several days in Dubai. The Embassy said I couldn’t go more than 3 blocks from my hotel to find food. I definitely couldn’t go to Jumairah Beach or the gold souk.
    After about three days, I saw a flight attendant in uniform, checking into my hotel. I called the airline to see if I could at least fly to London. I stood at a counter for a long time while they “checked” if I could get a seat. I saw a local in a thobe put a large bill into his passport when he was checking in. I then did the same thing, and voila a seat.
    I spent the next three days in London because I had a confirmed seat on the 18 September flight. It was a nightmare getting on the flight. A several hour wait on the top floor of a garage in a typical London mist/drizzle with portapotties without toilet paper. I got to security, and they said I could only have a small bag not two. So I consolidated and checked in the carry on bag.
    On landing in Dulles, the entire plane broke out into cheers and applause.

    Reply
  58. My strangest journey is a reverse of yourd. It was not about going to a strange country but one of getting home from foreign parts.
    I was driving from Abu Dhabi to Dubai on 11 September 2001. I had the radio off because I needed all my attention to deal with the traffic. The slow traffic moving along the right lane, Those of doing 60 mph or thereabouts in the middle lanes, and the locals and speed demons going 100 mph in the left lane. I got to my hotel and the back door was padlocked with an enormous chains. I went to the front desk late in the afternoon, and people were checking out. The clerk asked if I wanted to check in. I got to my room, and called the work travel agent back in the states. She told me I couldn’t rebook my flight to Fujairah because no aircraft were flying in the United States. I couldn’t comprehend such a bizarre idea. She told me to sit down, and turn on the TV. I have no idea if it was a replay or the real thing, but I watched one of the towers collapse.
    So now the task was to get back to the states. All Dubai to London flights were cancelled. So I spent several days in Dubai. The Embassy said I couldn’t go more than 3 blocks from my hotel to find food. I definitely couldn’t go to Jumairah Beach or the gold souk.
    After about three days, I saw a flight attendant in uniform, checking into my hotel. I called the airline to see if I could at least fly to London. I stood at a counter for a long time while they “checked” if I could get a seat. I saw a local in a thobe put a large bill into his passport when he was checking in. I then did the same thing, and voila a seat.
    I spent the next three days in London because I had a confirmed seat on the 18 September flight. It was a nightmare getting on the flight. A several hour wait on the top floor of a garage in a typical London mist/drizzle with portapotties without toilet paper. I got to security, and they said I could only have a small bag not two. So I consolidated and checked in the carry on bag.
    On landing in Dulles, the entire plane broke out into cheers and applause.

    Reply
  59. My strangest journey is a reverse of yourd. It was not about going to a strange country but one of getting home from foreign parts.
    I was driving from Abu Dhabi to Dubai on 11 September 2001. I had the radio off because I needed all my attention to deal with the traffic. The slow traffic moving along the right lane, Those of doing 60 mph or thereabouts in the middle lanes, and the locals and speed demons going 100 mph in the left lane. I got to my hotel and the back door was padlocked with an enormous chains. I went to the front desk late in the afternoon, and people were checking out. The clerk asked if I wanted to check in. I got to my room, and called the work travel agent back in the states. She told me I couldn’t rebook my flight to Fujairah because no aircraft were flying in the United States. I couldn’t comprehend such a bizarre idea. She told me to sit down, and turn on the TV. I have no idea if it was a replay or the real thing, but I watched one of the towers collapse.
    So now the task was to get back to the states. All Dubai to London flights were cancelled. So I spent several days in Dubai. The Embassy said I couldn’t go more than 3 blocks from my hotel to find food. I definitely couldn’t go to Jumairah Beach or the gold souk.
    After about three days, I saw a flight attendant in uniform, checking into my hotel. I called the airline to see if I could at least fly to London. I stood at a counter for a long time while they “checked” if I could get a seat. I saw a local in a thobe put a large bill into his passport when he was checking in. I then did the same thing, and voila a seat.
    I spent the next three days in London because I had a confirmed seat on the 18 September flight. It was a nightmare getting on the flight. A several hour wait on the top floor of a garage in a typical London mist/drizzle with portapotties without toilet paper. I got to security, and they said I could only have a small bag not two. So I consolidated and checked in the carry on bag.
    On landing in Dulles, the entire plane broke out into cheers and applause.

    Reply
  60. My strangest journey is a reverse of yourd. It was not about going to a strange country but one of getting home from foreign parts.
    I was driving from Abu Dhabi to Dubai on 11 September 2001. I had the radio off because I needed all my attention to deal with the traffic. The slow traffic moving along the right lane, Those of doing 60 mph or thereabouts in the middle lanes, and the locals and speed demons going 100 mph in the left lane. I got to my hotel and the back door was padlocked with an enormous chains. I went to the front desk late in the afternoon, and people were checking out. The clerk asked if I wanted to check in. I got to my room, and called the work travel agent back in the states. She told me I couldn’t rebook my flight to Fujairah because no aircraft were flying in the United States. I couldn’t comprehend such a bizarre idea. She told me to sit down, and turn on the TV. I have no idea if it was a replay or the real thing, but I watched one of the towers collapse.
    So now the task was to get back to the states. All Dubai to London flights were cancelled. So I spent several days in Dubai. The Embassy said I couldn’t go more than 3 blocks from my hotel to find food. I definitely couldn’t go to Jumairah Beach or the gold souk.
    After about three days, I saw a flight attendant in uniform, checking into my hotel. I called the airline to see if I could at least fly to London. I stood at a counter for a long time while they “checked” if I could get a seat. I saw a local in a thobe put a large bill into his passport when he was checking in. I then did the same thing, and voila a seat.
    I spent the next three days in London because I had a confirmed seat on the 18 September flight. It was a nightmare getting on the flight. A several hour wait on the top floor of a garage in a typical London mist/drizzle with portapotties without toilet paper. I got to security, and they said I could only have a small bag not two. So I consolidated and checked in the carry on bag.
    On landing in Dulles, the entire plane broke out into cheers and applause.

    Reply
  61. Wow, Shannon, what an amazing story. Extraordinary times, indeed.
    " no aircraft were flying in the United States. I couldn't comprehend such a bizarre idea."
    No indeed. I can imagine that the whole aircraft world would be on tenterhooks and nobody knowing what to do or think and wondering what would happen.
    Thank you so much for sharing that momentous journey. I'm very glad you got home safely.

    Reply
  62. Wow, Shannon, what an amazing story. Extraordinary times, indeed.
    " no aircraft were flying in the United States. I couldn't comprehend such a bizarre idea."
    No indeed. I can imagine that the whole aircraft world would be on tenterhooks and nobody knowing what to do or think and wondering what would happen.
    Thank you so much for sharing that momentous journey. I'm very glad you got home safely.

    Reply
  63. Wow, Shannon, what an amazing story. Extraordinary times, indeed.
    " no aircraft were flying in the United States. I couldn't comprehend such a bizarre idea."
    No indeed. I can imagine that the whole aircraft world would be on tenterhooks and nobody knowing what to do or think and wondering what would happen.
    Thank you so much for sharing that momentous journey. I'm very glad you got home safely.

    Reply
  64. Wow, Shannon, what an amazing story. Extraordinary times, indeed.
    " no aircraft were flying in the United States. I couldn't comprehend such a bizarre idea."
    No indeed. I can imagine that the whole aircraft world would be on tenterhooks and nobody knowing what to do or think and wondering what would happen.
    Thank you so much for sharing that momentous journey. I'm very glad you got home safely.

    Reply
  65. Wow, Shannon, what an amazing story. Extraordinary times, indeed.
    " no aircraft were flying in the United States. I couldn't comprehend such a bizarre idea."
    No indeed. I can imagine that the whole aircraft world would be on tenterhooks and nobody knowing what to do or think and wondering what would happen.
    Thank you so much for sharing that momentous journey. I'm very glad you got home safely.

    Reply
  66. I grew up very protected, as my parents had taken us from a small town setting to a ranch after one of us was assaulted. We rarely went to town, and only saw a few people at the ranch. When went to college, even though it was only 350 miles, it was the first time I had ever travelled any distance like that alone. To say I was scared would be an understatement. And, once I got there, I had to check into a motel, alone (when I traveled in school, or even junior college, someone else did that). AND find registration….my advisor, my dorm room. I was terrified for the first semester.

    Reply
  67. I grew up very protected, as my parents had taken us from a small town setting to a ranch after one of us was assaulted. We rarely went to town, and only saw a few people at the ranch. When went to college, even though it was only 350 miles, it was the first time I had ever travelled any distance like that alone. To say I was scared would be an understatement. And, once I got there, I had to check into a motel, alone (when I traveled in school, or even junior college, someone else did that). AND find registration….my advisor, my dorm room. I was terrified for the first semester.

    Reply
  68. I grew up very protected, as my parents had taken us from a small town setting to a ranch after one of us was assaulted. We rarely went to town, and only saw a few people at the ranch. When went to college, even though it was only 350 miles, it was the first time I had ever travelled any distance like that alone. To say I was scared would be an understatement. And, once I got there, I had to check into a motel, alone (when I traveled in school, or even junior college, someone else did that). AND find registration….my advisor, my dorm room. I was terrified for the first semester.

    Reply
  69. I grew up very protected, as my parents had taken us from a small town setting to a ranch after one of us was assaulted. We rarely went to town, and only saw a few people at the ranch. When went to college, even though it was only 350 miles, it was the first time I had ever travelled any distance like that alone. To say I was scared would be an understatement. And, once I got there, I had to check into a motel, alone (when I traveled in school, or even junior college, someone else did that). AND find registration….my advisor, my dorm room. I was terrified for the first semester.

    Reply
  70. I grew up very protected, as my parents had taken us from a small town setting to a ranch after one of us was assaulted. We rarely went to town, and only saw a few people at the ranch. When went to college, even though it was only 350 miles, it was the first time I had ever travelled any distance like that alone. To say I was scared would be an understatement. And, once I got there, I had to check into a motel, alone (when I traveled in school, or even junior college, someone else did that). AND find registration….my advisor, my dorm room. I was terrified for the first semester.

    Reply
  71. Patty, thanks so much for sharing that story. I can just imagine how scary it must have been for you, coming from such a sheltered and relatively isolated environment where you probably knew everyone around. And no doubt being raised to be very wary of the bad things that can happen in the city. But you did it, and you survived, which is fabulous. It's very much a rite of passage to adulthood when we leave home and have to manage on our own for the first time ever, isn't it? Scary, but necessary.

    Reply
  72. Patty, thanks so much for sharing that story. I can just imagine how scary it must have been for you, coming from such a sheltered and relatively isolated environment where you probably knew everyone around. And no doubt being raised to be very wary of the bad things that can happen in the city. But you did it, and you survived, which is fabulous. It's very much a rite of passage to adulthood when we leave home and have to manage on our own for the first time ever, isn't it? Scary, but necessary.

    Reply
  73. Patty, thanks so much for sharing that story. I can just imagine how scary it must have been for you, coming from such a sheltered and relatively isolated environment where you probably knew everyone around. And no doubt being raised to be very wary of the bad things that can happen in the city. But you did it, and you survived, which is fabulous. It's very much a rite of passage to adulthood when we leave home and have to manage on our own for the first time ever, isn't it? Scary, but necessary.

    Reply
  74. Patty, thanks so much for sharing that story. I can just imagine how scary it must have been for you, coming from such a sheltered and relatively isolated environment where you probably knew everyone around. And no doubt being raised to be very wary of the bad things that can happen in the city. But you did it, and you survived, which is fabulous. It's very much a rite of passage to adulthood when we leave home and have to manage on our own for the first time ever, isn't it? Scary, but necessary.

    Reply
  75. Patty, thanks so much for sharing that story. I can just imagine how scary it must have been for you, coming from such a sheltered and relatively isolated environment where you probably knew everyone around. And no doubt being raised to be very wary of the bad things that can happen in the city. But you did it, and you survived, which is fabulous. It's very much a rite of passage to adulthood when we leave home and have to manage on our own for the first time ever, isn't it? Scary, but necessary.

    Reply
  76. This struck a cord with me. I was five when my mother and I sailed from New York to Germany to join my father who was stationed there with the US Army. It was February and we had a very rough crossing. The moms took to their beds and the children had the run of the ship. That is, we did until we reached the English channel. At that point they closed the bulkhead doors due to ongoing fear of mines in the channel. (It was 1952) Evening when I was supposed to be sleeping I would listen to the women talk. Conversation was filled with memories of the war and fears about living in divided Germany. What, they would ask, will happen if we accidentally cross the border into a communist country?

    Reply
  77. This struck a cord with me. I was five when my mother and I sailed from New York to Germany to join my father who was stationed there with the US Army. It was February and we had a very rough crossing. The moms took to their beds and the children had the run of the ship. That is, we did until we reached the English channel. At that point they closed the bulkhead doors due to ongoing fear of mines in the channel. (It was 1952) Evening when I was supposed to be sleeping I would listen to the women talk. Conversation was filled with memories of the war and fears about living in divided Germany. What, they would ask, will happen if we accidentally cross the border into a communist country?

    Reply
  78. This struck a cord with me. I was five when my mother and I sailed from New York to Germany to join my father who was stationed there with the US Army. It was February and we had a very rough crossing. The moms took to their beds and the children had the run of the ship. That is, we did until we reached the English channel. At that point they closed the bulkhead doors due to ongoing fear of mines in the channel. (It was 1952) Evening when I was supposed to be sleeping I would listen to the women talk. Conversation was filled with memories of the war and fears about living in divided Germany. What, they would ask, will happen if we accidentally cross the border into a communist country?

    Reply
  79. This struck a cord with me. I was five when my mother and I sailed from New York to Germany to join my father who was stationed there with the US Army. It was February and we had a very rough crossing. The moms took to their beds and the children had the run of the ship. That is, we did until we reached the English channel. At that point they closed the bulkhead doors due to ongoing fear of mines in the channel. (It was 1952) Evening when I was supposed to be sleeping I would listen to the women talk. Conversation was filled with memories of the war and fears about living in divided Germany. What, they would ask, will happen if we accidentally cross the border into a communist country?

    Reply
  80. This struck a cord with me. I was five when my mother and I sailed from New York to Germany to join my father who was stationed there with the US Army. It was February and we had a very rough crossing. The moms took to their beds and the children had the run of the ship. That is, we did until we reached the English channel. At that point they closed the bulkhead doors due to ongoing fear of mines in the channel. (It was 1952) Evening when I was supposed to be sleeping I would listen to the women talk. Conversation was filled with memories of the war and fears about living in divided Germany. What, they would ask, will happen if we accidentally cross the border into a communist country?

    Reply
  81. When very young, growing up in England, I remember sneaking rides on the hay wagon at harvest time and laughing gleefully as other road —- make that lane … users jumped into the ditch to avoid collisions.
    Later I travelled quite a lot in Europe. But air travel loses the feel of having made a ‘great journey’. My rides on the hay wagon felt much more of an achievement.
    The most momentous destination was Crete. Discussing physics by the hotel pool and then exploring the ancient Minoan sites and cooling off with wind surfing on the Med. An exhilarating experience!
    I’m now itching to visit the Western Isles of Scotland, especially Iona for the spiritual connection and Skye for the Black Cuillin.

    Reply
  82. When very young, growing up in England, I remember sneaking rides on the hay wagon at harvest time and laughing gleefully as other road —- make that lane … users jumped into the ditch to avoid collisions.
    Later I travelled quite a lot in Europe. But air travel loses the feel of having made a ‘great journey’. My rides on the hay wagon felt much more of an achievement.
    The most momentous destination was Crete. Discussing physics by the hotel pool and then exploring the ancient Minoan sites and cooling off with wind surfing on the Med. An exhilarating experience!
    I’m now itching to visit the Western Isles of Scotland, especially Iona for the spiritual connection and Skye for the Black Cuillin.

    Reply
  83. When very young, growing up in England, I remember sneaking rides on the hay wagon at harvest time and laughing gleefully as other road —- make that lane … users jumped into the ditch to avoid collisions.
    Later I travelled quite a lot in Europe. But air travel loses the feel of having made a ‘great journey’. My rides on the hay wagon felt much more of an achievement.
    The most momentous destination was Crete. Discussing physics by the hotel pool and then exploring the ancient Minoan sites and cooling off with wind surfing on the Med. An exhilarating experience!
    I’m now itching to visit the Western Isles of Scotland, especially Iona for the spiritual connection and Skye for the Black Cuillin.

    Reply
  84. When very young, growing up in England, I remember sneaking rides on the hay wagon at harvest time and laughing gleefully as other road —- make that lane … users jumped into the ditch to avoid collisions.
    Later I travelled quite a lot in Europe. But air travel loses the feel of having made a ‘great journey’. My rides on the hay wagon felt much more of an achievement.
    The most momentous destination was Crete. Discussing physics by the hotel pool and then exploring the ancient Minoan sites and cooling off with wind surfing on the Med. An exhilarating experience!
    I’m now itching to visit the Western Isles of Scotland, especially Iona for the spiritual connection and Skye for the Black Cuillin.

    Reply
  85. When very young, growing up in England, I remember sneaking rides on the hay wagon at harvest time and laughing gleefully as other road —- make that lane … users jumped into the ditch to avoid collisions.
    Later I travelled quite a lot in Europe. But air travel loses the feel of having made a ‘great journey’. My rides on the hay wagon felt much more of an achievement.
    The most momentous destination was Crete. Discussing physics by the hotel pool and then exploring the ancient Minoan sites and cooling off with wind surfing on the Med. An exhilarating experience!
    I’m now itching to visit the Western Isles of Scotland, especially Iona for the spiritual connection and Skye for the Black Cuillin.

    Reply
  86. Carol, that was a momentous journey indeed. And what wonderful vivd memories.
    I also remember having the run of the ship when parents were seasick.
    And I can remember my parents and grandmother talking about the horror of the Wall, and families being divided.
    Thanks so much for sharing.

    Reply
  87. Carol, that was a momentous journey indeed. And what wonderful vivd memories.
    I also remember having the run of the ship when parents were seasick.
    And I can remember my parents and grandmother talking about the horror of the Wall, and families being divided.
    Thanks so much for sharing.

    Reply
  88. Carol, that was a momentous journey indeed. And what wonderful vivd memories.
    I also remember having the run of the ship when parents were seasick.
    And I can remember my parents and grandmother talking about the horror of the Wall, and families being divided.
    Thanks so much for sharing.

    Reply
  89. Carol, that was a momentous journey indeed. And what wonderful vivd memories.
    I also remember having the run of the ship when parents were seasick.
    And I can remember my parents and grandmother talking about the horror of the Wall, and families being divided.
    Thanks so much for sharing.

    Reply
  90. Carol, that was a momentous journey indeed. And what wonderful vivd memories.
    I also remember having the run of the ship when parents were seasick.
    And I can remember my parents and grandmother talking about the horror of the Wall, and families being divided.
    Thanks so much for sharing.

    Reply
  91. Quantum, I'm so envious of your hay wagon ride — I always wanted to do that, but only read about it in books. I do recall sliding about in hay barns and having a wonderful time.
    And I remember when I was eight, and we were in Europe, how my parents let my brother and sister (who were 16 and 17) swim out to the barges sailing down the big rivers of Europe and ride a bit down the river to the next town. We'd pick them up in the town. Lots of teens seemed to do it. But though I was a good swimmer, I was judged too young to do it. Now that would have been an adventure.
    Crete sounds like a wonderful idea. It's a gorgeous place. I once met a lovely German windsurfer who was living in Crete. And the far Cuillins are puttin' love on me, too. 😉 I hope you make that journey. Thanks for joining in the conversation.

    Reply
  92. Quantum, I'm so envious of your hay wagon ride — I always wanted to do that, but only read about it in books. I do recall sliding about in hay barns and having a wonderful time.
    And I remember when I was eight, and we were in Europe, how my parents let my brother and sister (who were 16 and 17) swim out to the barges sailing down the big rivers of Europe and ride a bit down the river to the next town. We'd pick them up in the town. Lots of teens seemed to do it. But though I was a good swimmer, I was judged too young to do it. Now that would have been an adventure.
    Crete sounds like a wonderful idea. It's a gorgeous place. I once met a lovely German windsurfer who was living in Crete. And the far Cuillins are puttin' love on me, too. 😉 I hope you make that journey. Thanks for joining in the conversation.

    Reply
  93. Quantum, I'm so envious of your hay wagon ride — I always wanted to do that, but only read about it in books. I do recall sliding about in hay barns and having a wonderful time.
    And I remember when I was eight, and we were in Europe, how my parents let my brother and sister (who were 16 and 17) swim out to the barges sailing down the big rivers of Europe and ride a bit down the river to the next town. We'd pick them up in the town. Lots of teens seemed to do it. But though I was a good swimmer, I was judged too young to do it. Now that would have been an adventure.
    Crete sounds like a wonderful idea. It's a gorgeous place. I once met a lovely German windsurfer who was living in Crete. And the far Cuillins are puttin' love on me, too. 😉 I hope you make that journey. Thanks for joining in the conversation.

    Reply
  94. Quantum, I'm so envious of your hay wagon ride — I always wanted to do that, but only read about it in books. I do recall sliding about in hay barns and having a wonderful time.
    And I remember when I was eight, and we were in Europe, how my parents let my brother and sister (who were 16 and 17) swim out to the barges sailing down the big rivers of Europe and ride a bit down the river to the next town. We'd pick them up in the town. Lots of teens seemed to do it. But though I was a good swimmer, I was judged too young to do it. Now that would have been an adventure.
    Crete sounds like a wonderful idea. It's a gorgeous place. I once met a lovely German windsurfer who was living in Crete. And the far Cuillins are puttin' love on me, too. 😉 I hope you make that journey. Thanks for joining in the conversation.

    Reply
  95. Quantum, I'm so envious of your hay wagon ride — I always wanted to do that, but only read about it in books. I do recall sliding about in hay barns and having a wonderful time.
    And I remember when I was eight, and we were in Europe, how my parents let my brother and sister (who were 16 and 17) swim out to the barges sailing down the big rivers of Europe and ride a bit down the river to the next town. We'd pick them up in the town. Lots of teens seemed to do it. But though I was a good swimmer, I was judged too young to do it. Now that would have been an adventure.
    Crete sounds like a wonderful idea. It's a gorgeous place. I once met a lovely German windsurfer who was living in Crete. And the far Cuillins are puttin' love on me, too. 😉 I hope you make that journey. Thanks for joining in the conversation.

    Reply
  96. What gorgeous stories. Thank you, Anne, for stimulating the memories of so many people. I guess my most momentous journey was a school excursion to New Guinea when I was ten. I wanted to go on that so badly I would bike ride around the neighbours to earn money ironing handkerchiefs and tea towels. Was not much good at ironing anything else. But the neighbours felt sorry for me I think, and I reached the total my parents said I had to raise before they made up the rest of the cost. The school group was made up of four boys, me, and two female teachers. We were billeted with families. I still remember the heat hitting me as I stepped out of the plane and the smell of beetlenut. xxFi

    Reply
  97. What gorgeous stories. Thank you, Anne, for stimulating the memories of so many people. I guess my most momentous journey was a school excursion to New Guinea when I was ten. I wanted to go on that so badly I would bike ride around the neighbours to earn money ironing handkerchiefs and tea towels. Was not much good at ironing anything else. But the neighbours felt sorry for me I think, and I reached the total my parents said I had to raise before they made up the rest of the cost. The school group was made up of four boys, me, and two female teachers. We were billeted with families. I still remember the heat hitting me as I stepped out of the plane and the smell of beetlenut. xxFi

    Reply
  98. What gorgeous stories. Thank you, Anne, for stimulating the memories of so many people. I guess my most momentous journey was a school excursion to New Guinea when I was ten. I wanted to go on that so badly I would bike ride around the neighbours to earn money ironing handkerchiefs and tea towels. Was not much good at ironing anything else. But the neighbours felt sorry for me I think, and I reached the total my parents said I had to raise before they made up the rest of the cost. The school group was made up of four boys, me, and two female teachers. We were billeted with families. I still remember the heat hitting me as I stepped out of the plane and the smell of beetlenut. xxFi

    Reply
  99. What gorgeous stories. Thank you, Anne, for stimulating the memories of so many people. I guess my most momentous journey was a school excursion to New Guinea when I was ten. I wanted to go on that so badly I would bike ride around the neighbours to earn money ironing handkerchiefs and tea towels. Was not much good at ironing anything else. But the neighbours felt sorry for me I think, and I reached the total my parents said I had to raise before they made up the rest of the cost. The school group was made up of four boys, me, and two female teachers. We were billeted with families. I still remember the heat hitting me as I stepped out of the plane and the smell of beetlenut. xxFi

    Reply
  100. What gorgeous stories. Thank you, Anne, for stimulating the memories of so many people. I guess my most momentous journey was a school excursion to New Guinea when I was ten. I wanted to go on that so badly I would bike ride around the neighbours to earn money ironing handkerchiefs and tea towels. Was not much good at ironing anything else. But the neighbours felt sorry for me I think, and I reached the total my parents said I had to raise before they made up the rest of the cost. The school group was made up of four boys, me, and two female teachers. We were billeted with families. I still remember the heat hitting me as I stepped out of the plane and the smell of beetlenut. xxFi

    Reply
  101. Anne, when ever anybody starts a rant about ‘boat people’ I look them in the eye and say “My Dad was a boat person”…shuts them up every time….

    Reply
  102. Anne, when ever anybody starts a rant about ‘boat people’ I look them in the eye and say “My Dad was a boat person”…shuts them up every time….

    Reply
  103. Anne, when ever anybody starts a rant about ‘boat people’ I look them in the eye and say “My Dad was a boat person”…shuts them up every time….

    Reply
  104. Anne, when ever anybody starts a rant about ‘boat people’ I look them in the eye and say “My Dad was a boat person”…shuts them up every time….

    Reply
  105. Anne, when ever anybody starts a rant about ‘boat people’ I look them in the eye and say “My Dad was a boat person”…shuts them up every time….

    Reply
  106. Not my experience, but when my family moved to Australia they knew nothing about the country at all, except the name.
    After Churchill and his cronies handed Ukraine over to Russia and Stalin (thanks for that!), they couldn’t go home, and Australia seemed like the best of a handful of options available to them.
    I can’t imagine what it would have been like to travel to the other side of the world by ship, not even knowing what language they were going to have to learn. And when they arrived the Australia government split families up, with the men being sent to one state to work and the women and children being housed in livestock sheds while they tried to find ways to support their families.

    Reply
  107. Not my experience, but when my family moved to Australia they knew nothing about the country at all, except the name.
    After Churchill and his cronies handed Ukraine over to Russia and Stalin (thanks for that!), they couldn’t go home, and Australia seemed like the best of a handful of options available to them.
    I can’t imagine what it would have been like to travel to the other side of the world by ship, not even knowing what language they were going to have to learn. And when they arrived the Australia government split families up, with the men being sent to one state to work and the women and children being housed in livestock sheds while they tried to find ways to support their families.

    Reply
  108. Not my experience, but when my family moved to Australia they knew nothing about the country at all, except the name.
    After Churchill and his cronies handed Ukraine over to Russia and Stalin (thanks for that!), they couldn’t go home, and Australia seemed like the best of a handful of options available to them.
    I can’t imagine what it would have been like to travel to the other side of the world by ship, not even knowing what language they were going to have to learn. And when they arrived the Australia government split families up, with the men being sent to one state to work and the women and children being housed in livestock sheds while they tried to find ways to support their families.

    Reply
  109. Not my experience, but when my family moved to Australia they knew nothing about the country at all, except the name.
    After Churchill and his cronies handed Ukraine over to Russia and Stalin (thanks for that!), they couldn’t go home, and Australia seemed like the best of a handful of options available to them.
    I can’t imagine what it would have been like to travel to the other side of the world by ship, not even knowing what language they were going to have to learn. And when they arrived the Australia government split families up, with the men being sent to one state to work and the women and children being housed in livestock sheds while they tried to find ways to support their families.

    Reply
  110. Not my experience, but when my family moved to Australia they knew nothing about the country at all, except the name.
    After Churchill and his cronies handed Ukraine over to Russia and Stalin (thanks for that!), they couldn’t go home, and Australia seemed like the best of a handful of options available to them.
    I can’t imagine what it would have been like to travel to the other side of the world by ship, not even knowing what language they were going to have to learn. And when they arrived the Australia government split families up, with the men being sent to one state to work and the women and children being housed in livestock sheds while they tried to find ways to support their families.

    Reply
  111. I’m quite moved at 5 AM reading these stories. I’m reminded of my mother, a Viennese war bride, who left post-war Vienna on a government ship in 1947. The wives were not permitted to stay with their husbands, and she had to share a cabin with 2 French women (who, she claimed, used too much perfume, LOL). She was eight months pregnant, was not fluent in English (and certainly not French)and would have to live with her mother-in-law once she got to New York. The first thing my mother did when she arrived was take out her pierced earrings, because my grandmother, a very WASP-y snob, said she looked like a gypsy.
    In many ways my mother was braver than I’ll ever be–as much as I love travel, I don’t think I’d want to leave everything I know behind. In her case, of course, she was leaving pretty horrible memories.

    Reply
  112. I’m quite moved at 5 AM reading these stories. I’m reminded of my mother, a Viennese war bride, who left post-war Vienna on a government ship in 1947. The wives were not permitted to stay with their husbands, and she had to share a cabin with 2 French women (who, she claimed, used too much perfume, LOL). She was eight months pregnant, was not fluent in English (and certainly not French)and would have to live with her mother-in-law once she got to New York. The first thing my mother did when she arrived was take out her pierced earrings, because my grandmother, a very WASP-y snob, said she looked like a gypsy.
    In many ways my mother was braver than I’ll ever be–as much as I love travel, I don’t think I’d want to leave everything I know behind. In her case, of course, she was leaving pretty horrible memories.

    Reply
  113. I’m quite moved at 5 AM reading these stories. I’m reminded of my mother, a Viennese war bride, who left post-war Vienna on a government ship in 1947. The wives were not permitted to stay with their husbands, and she had to share a cabin with 2 French women (who, she claimed, used too much perfume, LOL). She was eight months pregnant, was not fluent in English (and certainly not French)and would have to live with her mother-in-law once she got to New York. The first thing my mother did when she arrived was take out her pierced earrings, because my grandmother, a very WASP-y snob, said she looked like a gypsy.
    In many ways my mother was braver than I’ll ever be–as much as I love travel, I don’t think I’d want to leave everything I know behind. In her case, of course, she was leaving pretty horrible memories.

    Reply
  114. I’m quite moved at 5 AM reading these stories. I’m reminded of my mother, a Viennese war bride, who left post-war Vienna on a government ship in 1947. The wives were not permitted to stay with their husbands, and she had to share a cabin with 2 French women (who, she claimed, used too much perfume, LOL). She was eight months pregnant, was not fluent in English (and certainly not French)and would have to live with her mother-in-law once she got to New York. The first thing my mother did when she arrived was take out her pierced earrings, because my grandmother, a very WASP-y snob, said she looked like a gypsy.
    In many ways my mother was braver than I’ll ever be–as much as I love travel, I don’t think I’d want to leave everything I know behind. In her case, of course, she was leaving pretty horrible memories.

    Reply
  115. I’m quite moved at 5 AM reading these stories. I’m reminded of my mother, a Viennese war bride, who left post-war Vienna on a government ship in 1947. The wives were not permitted to stay with their husbands, and she had to share a cabin with 2 French women (who, she claimed, used too much perfume, LOL). She was eight months pregnant, was not fluent in English (and certainly not French)and would have to live with her mother-in-law once she got to New York. The first thing my mother did when she arrived was take out her pierced earrings, because my grandmother, a very WASP-y snob, said she looked like a gypsy.
    In many ways my mother was braver than I’ll ever be–as much as I love travel, I don’t think I’d want to leave everything I know behind. In her case, of course, she was leaving pretty horrible memories.

    Reply
  116. Anne, I read this this lovely post this morning and it has stayed with me all day. When I left UK for Australia more than 20 years ago I think my dad felt like this. My phone bill was massive those first years but now it is so cheap and I pick it up without thought to call mum. We even watch the UK news together at the same time! It’s my daughter’s birthday today and there are emails and phone calls and twitter and I wish my dad was around to see that we’re all very much in touch. cxxxx

    Reply
  117. Anne, I read this this lovely post this morning and it has stayed with me all day. When I left UK for Australia more than 20 years ago I think my dad felt like this. My phone bill was massive those first years but now it is so cheap and I pick it up without thought to call mum. We even watch the UK news together at the same time! It’s my daughter’s birthday today and there are emails and phone calls and twitter and I wish my dad was around to see that we’re all very much in touch. cxxxx

    Reply
  118. Anne, I read this this lovely post this morning and it has stayed with me all day. When I left UK for Australia more than 20 years ago I think my dad felt like this. My phone bill was massive those first years but now it is so cheap and I pick it up without thought to call mum. We even watch the UK news together at the same time! It’s my daughter’s birthday today and there are emails and phone calls and twitter and I wish my dad was around to see that we’re all very much in touch. cxxxx

    Reply
  119. Anne, I read this this lovely post this morning and it has stayed with me all day. When I left UK for Australia more than 20 years ago I think my dad felt like this. My phone bill was massive those first years but now it is so cheap and I pick it up without thought to call mum. We even watch the UK news together at the same time! It’s my daughter’s birthday today and there are emails and phone calls and twitter and I wish my dad was around to see that we’re all very much in touch. cxxxx

    Reply
  120. Anne, I read this this lovely post this morning and it has stayed with me all day. When I left UK for Australia more than 20 years ago I think my dad felt like this. My phone bill was massive those first years but now it is so cheap and I pick it up without thought to call mum. We even watch the UK news together at the same time! It’s my daughter’s birthday today and there are emails and phone calls and twitter and I wish my dad was around to see that we’re all very much in touch. cxxxx

    Reply
  121. Maggie, I think it's wonderful to share these reminiscences. I can imagine how your poor Mum would be sensitive about the perfume. Having to live in such close quarters to strangers would be hard enough, but that extra sensitive sense of smell that some women get during pregnancy — not at all fun. Coming to a country to live under the strict reign of a mother-in-law, too. She did it tough, your mother. 🙂

    Reply
  122. Maggie, I think it's wonderful to share these reminiscences. I can imagine how your poor Mum would be sensitive about the perfume. Having to live in such close quarters to strangers would be hard enough, but that extra sensitive sense of smell that some women get during pregnancy — not at all fun. Coming to a country to live under the strict reign of a mother-in-law, too. She did it tough, your mother. 🙂

    Reply
  123. Maggie, I think it's wonderful to share these reminiscences. I can imagine how your poor Mum would be sensitive about the perfume. Having to live in such close quarters to strangers would be hard enough, but that extra sensitive sense of smell that some women get during pregnancy — not at all fun. Coming to a country to live under the strict reign of a mother-in-law, too. She did it tough, your mother. 🙂

    Reply
  124. Maggie, I think it's wonderful to share these reminiscences. I can imagine how your poor Mum would be sensitive about the perfume. Having to live in such close quarters to strangers would be hard enough, but that extra sensitive sense of smell that some women get during pregnancy — not at all fun. Coming to a country to live under the strict reign of a mother-in-law, too. She did it tough, your mother. 🙂

    Reply
  125. Maggie, I think it's wonderful to share these reminiscences. I can imagine how your poor Mum would be sensitive about the perfume. Having to live in such close quarters to strangers would be hard enough, but that extra sensitive sense of smell that some women get during pregnancy — not at all fun. Coming to a country to live under the strict reign of a mother-in-law, too. She did it tough, your mother. 🙂

    Reply
  126. That's a lovely story, Carol — I'm sure it was so hard for your Dad to let you go. And so hard for you to lose him, while you were so far away. Thanks for sharing. But yes, it's wonderful how much easier it is these days to stay in touch. Hope your daughter had a wonderful birthday.

    Reply
  127. That's a lovely story, Carol — I'm sure it was so hard for your Dad to let you go. And so hard for you to lose him, while you were so far away. Thanks for sharing. But yes, it's wonderful how much easier it is these days to stay in touch. Hope your daughter had a wonderful birthday.

    Reply
  128. That's a lovely story, Carol — I'm sure it was so hard for your Dad to let you go. And so hard for you to lose him, while you were so far away. Thanks for sharing. But yes, it's wonderful how much easier it is these days to stay in touch. Hope your daughter had a wonderful birthday.

    Reply
  129. That's a lovely story, Carol — I'm sure it was so hard for your Dad to let you go. And so hard for you to lose him, while you were so far away. Thanks for sharing. But yes, it's wonderful how much easier it is these days to stay in touch. Hope your daughter had a wonderful birthday.

    Reply
  130. That's a lovely story, Carol — I'm sure it was so hard for your Dad to let you go. And so hard for you to lose him, while you were so far away. Thanks for sharing. But yes, it's wonderful how much easier it is these days to stay in touch. Hope your daughter had a wonderful birthday.

    Reply
  131. In 2006, I sold our family home of 18 years, put everything in storage and joined my husband in Malaysia for a two-year work stint. That house held so many memories – our girls growing up, proms, a wedding rehearsal dinner, etc. Emotionally, I was a wreck. I cried a lot at the Houston and LA airports because I knew my life was changing irrevocably. When I arrived at the KL airport, my husband was very attentive, bought me a cup of tea and let me collect myself before the hour-long drive into the city. However his first words brought all the tears back when he said, “So, how does it feel to be homeless?” I got him back three years later when I bought a new house in Houston without him ever seeing it!

    Reply
  132. In 2006, I sold our family home of 18 years, put everything in storage and joined my husband in Malaysia for a two-year work stint. That house held so many memories – our girls growing up, proms, a wedding rehearsal dinner, etc. Emotionally, I was a wreck. I cried a lot at the Houston and LA airports because I knew my life was changing irrevocably. When I arrived at the KL airport, my husband was very attentive, bought me a cup of tea and let me collect myself before the hour-long drive into the city. However his first words brought all the tears back when he said, “So, how does it feel to be homeless?” I got him back three years later when I bought a new house in Houston without him ever seeing it!

    Reply
  133. In 2006, I sold our family home of 18 years, put everything in storage and joined my husband in Malaysia for a two-year work stint. That house held so many memories – our girls growing up, proms, a wedding rehearsal dinner, etc. Emotionally, I was a wreck. I cried a lot at the Houston and LA airports because I knew my life was changing irrevocably. When I arrived at the KL airport, my husband was very attentive, bought me a cup of tea and let me collect myself before the hour-long drive into the city. However his first words brought all the tears back when he said, “So, how does it feel to be homeless?” I got him back three years later when I bought a new house in Houston without him ever seeing it!

    Reply
  134. In 2006, I sold our family home of 18 years, put everything in storage and joined my husband in Malaysia for a two-year work stint. That house held so many memories – our girls growing up, proms, a wedding rehearsal dinner, etc. Emotionally, I was a wreck. I cried a lot at the Houston and LA airports because I knew my life was changing irrevocably. When I arrived at the KL airport, my husband was very attentive, bought me a cup of tea and let me collect myself before the hour-long drive into the city. However his first words brought all the tears back when he said, “So, how does it feel to be homeless?” I got him back three years later when I bought a new house in Houston without him ever seeing it!

    Reply
  135. In 2006, I sold our family home of 18 years, put everything in storage and joined my husband in Malaysia for a two-year work stint. That house held so many memories – our girls growing up, proms, a wedding rehearsal dinner, etc. Emotionally, I was a wreck. I cried a lot at the Houston and LA airports because I knew my life was changing irrevocably. When I arrived at the KL airport, my husband was very attentive, bought me a cup of tea and let me collect myself before the hour-long drive into the city. However his first words brought all the tears back when he said, “So, how does it feel to be homeless?” I got him back three years later when I bought a new house in Houston without him ever seeing it!

    Reply
  136. Oh, Anne, what amazing stories! I keep blotting my eyes.
    I haven’t had any journeys as momentous as the one way immigration leaps into the unknown, or Shannon odyssey to get home after 9/11. (But I do understand the passionate need to be with one’s people, one’s countrymen, to share the pain of disaster.)
    But I did have that first trip to Europe at 20, after years of part time jobs to save up. Traveling with a roommate, biking, hitching, taking trains, staying in hostels–and going to local post offices to place heart wrenching phone calls to my first true love, whom I’d met a few months before going off on my grand tour. It was a very, very different world.

    Reply
  137. Oh, Anne, what amazing stories! I keep blotting my eyes.
    I haven’t had any journeys as momentous as the one way immigration leaps into the unknown, or Shannon odyssey to get home after 9/11. (But I do understand the passionate need to be with one’s people, one’s countrymen, to share the pain of disaster.)
    But I did have that first trip to Europe at 20, after years of part time jobs to save up. Traveling with a roommate, biking, hitching, taking trains, staying in hostels–and going to local post offices to place heart wrenching phone calls to my first true love, whom I’d met a few months before going off on my grand tour. It was a very, very different world.

    Reply
  138. Oh, Anne, what amazing stories! I keep blotting my eyes.
    I haven’t had any journeys as momentous as the one way immigration leaps into the unknown, or Shannon odyssey to get home after 9/11. (But I do understand the passionate need to be with one’s people, one’s countrymen, to share the pain of disaster.)
    But I did have that first trip to Europe at 20, after years of part time jobs to save up. Traveling with a roommate, biking, hitching, taking trains, staying in hostels–and going to local post offices to place heart wrenching phone calls to my first true love, whom I’d met a few months before going off on my grand tour. It was a very, very different world.

    Reply
  139. Oh, Anne, what amazing stories! I keep blotting my eyes.
    I haven’t had any journeys as momentous as the one way immigration leaps into the unknown, or Shannon odyssey to get home after 9/11. (But I do understand the passionate need to be with one’s people, one’s countrymen, to share the pain of disaster.)
    But I did have that first trip to Europe at 20, after years of part time jobs to save up. Traveling with a roommate, biking, hitching, taking trains, staying in hostels–and going to local post offices to place heart wrenching phone calls to my first true love, whom I’d met a few months before going off on my grand tour. It was a very, very different world.

    Reply
  140. Oh, Anne, what amazing stories! I keep blotting my eyes.
    I haven’t had any journeys as momentous as the one way immigration leaps into the unknown, or Shannon odyssey to get home after 9/11. (But I do understand the passionate need to be with one’s people, one’s countrymen, to share the pain of disaster.)
    But I did have that first trip to Europe at 20, after years of part time jobs to save up. Traveling with a roommate, biking, hitching, taking trains, staying in hostels–and going to local post offices to place heart wrenching phone calls to my first true love, whom I’d met a few months before going off on my grand tour. It was a very, very different world.

    Reply
  141. When I was 10 we moved from California to Georgia. A cross country move to small town GA like that was major trauma for a girl who had lived in the suburbs of LA her whole life. We felt like we had moved to a different country.
    Fifteen years or so later I came to Texas for what was supposed to be a temporary job assignment. I felt like I was coming home when I drove into central Texas. After I met my now husband, I knew I wanted to stay. 🙂

    Reply
  142. When I was 10 we moved from California to Georgia. A cross country move to small town GA like that was major trauma for a girl who had lived in the suburbs of LA her whole life. We felt like we had moved to a different country.
    Fifteen years or so later I came to Texas for what was supposed to be a temporary job assignment. I felt like I was coming home when I drove into central Texas. After I met my now husband, I knew I wanted to stay. 🙂

    Reply
  143. When I was 10 we moved from California to Georgia. A cross country move to small town GA like that was major trauma for a girl who had lived in the suburbs of LA her whole life. We felt like we had moved to a different country.
    Fifteen years or so later I came to Texas for what was supposed to be a temporary job assignment. I felt like I was coming home when I drove into central Texas. After I met my now husband, I knew I wanted to stay. 🙂

    Reply
  144. When I was 10 we moved from California to Georgia. A cross country move to small town GA like that was major trauma for a girl who had lived in the suburbs of LA her whole life. We felt like we had moved to a different country.
    Fifteen years or so later I came to Texas for what was supposed to be a temporary job assignment. I felt like I was coming home when I drove into central Texas. After I met my now husband, I knew I wanted to stay. 🙂

    Reply
  145. When I was 10 we moved from California to Georgia. A cross country move to small town GA like that was major trauma for a girl who had lived in the suburbs of LA her whole life. We felt like we had moved to a different country.
    Fifteen years or so later I came to Texas for what was supposed to be a temporary job assignment. I felt like I was coming home when I drove into central Texas. After I met my now husband, I knew I wanted to stay. 🙂

    Reply
  146. This brought tears to my eyes. Especially when the streamers broke one by one..
    I think the biggest distances today are at home, between bedrooms, as every member of the family is busy watching their own TV shows or on their own laptops, browsing content from other worlds…case in point right now – I’m in my room on my laptop while my brother is in his room, watching netflix..

    Reply
  147. This brought tears to my eyes. Especially when the streamers broke one by one..
    I think the biggest distances today are at home, between bedrooms, as every member of the family is busy watching their own TV shows or on their own laptops, browsing content from other worlds…case in point right now – I’m in my room on my laptop while my brother is in his room, watching netflix..

    Reply
  148. This brought tears to my eyes. Especially when the streamers broke one by one..
    I think the biggest distances today are at home, between bedrooms, as every member of the family is busy watching their own TV shows or on their own laptops, browsing content from other worlds…case in point right now – I’m in my room on my laptop while my brother is in his room, watching netflix..

    Reply
  149. This brought tears to my eyes. Especially when the streamers broke one by one..
    I think the biggest distances today are at home, between bedrooms, as every member of the family is busy watching their own TV shows or on their own laptops, browsing content from other worlds…case in point right now – I’m in my room on my laptop while my brother is in his room, watching netflix..

    Reply
  150. This brought tears to my eyes. Especially when the streamers broke one by one..
    I think the biggest distances today are at home, between bedrooms, as every member of the family is busy watching their own TV shows or on their own laptops, browsing content from other worlds…case in point right now – I’m in my room on my laptop while my brother is in his room, watching netflix..

    Reply
  151. Amazing stories, generated from an amazing blogpost. I feel people migrating is just an extension of our forefathers quest for survival, as they moved from place to place to find food for themselves and their animals. Except, they did not send away their their children, and now children are sometimes leading the way for parents and even whole families to follow.
    I remember my daughter was only 13 years old in 1992. Having got a scholarship she was flying to the USA alone, from India to a high school in Tennesssee. We had travelled several years ago, and I had some foreign money. So I gave her a GBP 5 note, to call me from London where she was making a connection. She did not call and I feared that she may not make the connection. I was frantic and called British Airways, who told me to call London. After many attempts, I finally reached the right number and someone was able to locate her at the next gate where she was to board her transatlantic flight. I was livid with worry, and before I could say anything, she said, “Mama, the money you gave me is an old note, they don’t change it here in the airport and no one would take it..” What a different story today, with credit cards and mobile phones and the internet..

    Reply
  152. Amazing stories, generated from an amazing blogpost. I feel people migrating is just an extension of our forefathers quest for survival, as they moved from place to place to find food for themselves and their animals. Except, they did not send away their their children, and now children are sometimes leading the way for parents and even whole families to follow.
    I remember my daughter was only 13 years old in 1992. Having got a scholarship she was flying to the USA alone, from India to a high school in Tennesssee. We had travelled several years ago, and I had some foreign money. So I gave her a GBP 5 note, to call me from London where she was making a connection. She did not call and I feared that she may not make the connection. I was frantic and called British Airways, who told me to call London. After many attempts, I finally reached the right number and someone was able to locate her at the next gate where she was to board her transatlantic flight. I was livid with worry, and before I could say anything, she said, “Mama, the money you gave me is an old note, they don’t change it here in the airport and no one would take it..” What a different story today, with credit cards and mobile phones and the internet..

    Reply
  153. Amazing stories, generated from an amazing blogpost. I feel people migrating is just an extension of our forefathers quest for survival, as they moved from place to place to find food for themselves and their animals. Except, they did not send away their their children, and now children are sometimes leading the way for parents and even whole families to follow.
    I remember my daughter was only 13 years old in 1992. Having got a scholarship she was flying to the USA alone, from India to a high school in Tennesssee. We had travelled several years ago, and I had some foreign money. So I gave her a GBP 5 note, to call me from London where she was making a connection. She did not call and I feared that she may not make the connection. I was frantic and called British Airways, who told me to call London. After many attempts, I finally reached the right number and someone was able to locate her at the next gate where she was to board her transatlantic flight. I was livid with worry, and before I could say anything, she said, “Mama, the money you gave me is an old note, they don’t change it here in the airport and no one would take it..” What a different story today, with credit cards and mobile phones and the internet..

    Reply
  154. Amazing stories, generated from an amazing blogpost. I feel people migrating is just an extension of our forefathers quest for survival, as they moved from place to place to find food for themselves and their animals. Except, they did not send away their their children, and now children are sometimes leading the way for parents and even whole families to follow.
    I remember my daughter was only 13 years old in 1992. Having got a scholarship she was flying to the USA alone, from India to a high school in Tennesssee. We had travelled several years ago, and I had some foreign money. So I gave her a GBP 5 note, to call me from London where she was making a connection. She did not call and I feared that she may not make the connection. I was frantic and called British Airways, who told me to call London. After many attempts, I finally reached the right number and someone was able to locate her at the next gate where she was to board her transatlantic flight. I was livid with worry, and before I could say anything, she said, “Mama, the money you gave me is an old note, they don’t change it here in the airport and no one would take it..” What a different story today, with credit cards and mobile phones and the internet..

    Reply
  155. Amazing stories, generated from an amazing blogpost. I feel people migrating is just an extension of our forefathers quest for survival, as they moved from place to place to find food for themselves and their animals. Except, they did not send away their their children, and now children are sometimes leading the way for parents and even whole families to follow.
    I remember my daughter was only 13 years old in 1992. Having got a scholarship she was flying to the USA alone, from India to a high school in Tennesssee. We had travelled several years ago, and I had some foreign money. So I gave her a GBP 5 note, to call me from London where she was making a connection. She did not call and I feared that she may not make the connection. I was frantic and called British Airways, who told me to call London. After many attempts, I finally reached the right number and someone was able to locate her at the next gate where she was to board her transatlantic flight. I was livid with worry, and before I could say anything, she said, “Mama, the money you gave me is an old note, they don’t change it here in the airport and no one would take it..” What a different story today, with credit cards and mobile phones and the internet..

    Reply
  156. Mary Jo, I think all momentous journeys are personal, and we can't compare them. I'm sure it took a lot of courage to head off to the old world, especially leaving your first true love behind.
    Some wonderful journeys have been shared here, I agree. The wenchly readership is a very special one.

    Reply
  157. Mary Jo, I think all momentous journeys are personal, and we can't compare them. I'm sure it took a lot of courage to head off to the old world, especially leaving your first true love behind.
    Some wonderful journeys have been shared here, I agree. The wenchly readership is a very special one.

    Reply
  158. Mary Jo, I think all momentous journeys are personal, and we can't compare them. I'm sure it took a lot of courage to head off to the old world, especially leaving your first true love behind.
    Some wonderful journeys have been shared here, I agree. The wenchly readership is a very special one.

    Reply
  159. Mary Jo, I think all momentous journeys are personal, and we can't compare them. I'm sure it took a lot of courage to head off to the old world, especially leaving your first true love behind.
    Some wonderful journeys have been shared here, I agree. The wenchly readership is a very special one.

    Reply
  160. Mary Jo, I think all momentous journeys are personal, and we can't compare them. I'm sure it took a lot of courage to head off to the old world, especially leaving your first true love behind.
    Some wonderful journeys have been shared here, I agree. The wenchly readership is a very special one.

    Reply
  161. Kanch I remember it so vividly. And some people —some of them big, tough-looking men, rolled up their part of the streamer and put it in their pocket. I wonder how many would still have kept that last tiny memento. I do think modern families are split by having separate entertainment areas, and always eating on the run, so that the family is rarely together. I think that's why some families are making an effort to have regular together time.

    Reply
  162. Kanch I remember it so vividly. And some people —some of them big, tough-looking men, rolled up their part of the streamer and put it in their pocket. I wonder how many would still have kept that last tiny memento. I do think modern families are split by having separate entertainment areas, and always eating on the run, so that the family is rarely together. I think that's why some families are making an effort to have regular together time.

    Reply
  163. Kanch I remember it so vividly. And some people —some of them big, tough-looking men, rolled up their part of the streamer and put it in their pocket. I wonder how many would still have kept that last tiny memento. I do think modern families are split by having separate entertainment areas, and always eating on the run, so that the family is rarely together. I think that's why some families are making an effort to have regular together time.

    Reply
  164. Kanch I remember it so vividly. And some people —some of them big, tough-looking men, rolled up their part of the streamer and put it in their pocket. I wonder how many would still have kept that last tiny memento. I do think modern families are split by having separate entertainment areas, and always eating on the run, so that the family is rarely together. I think that's why some families are making an effort to have regular together time.

    Reply
  165. Kanch I remember it so vividly. And some people —some of them big, tough-looking men, rolled up their part of the streamer and put it in their pocket. I wonder how many would still have kept that last tiny memento. I do think modern families are split by having separate entertainment areas, and always eating on the run, so that the family is rarely together. I think that's why some families are making an effort to have regular together time.

    Reply
  166. I went to Saudi with my husband and babies, the youngest 9 mos., 2 and 8. It was 1978. I was confused and scared for my children most because I saw danger everywhere. My husband didn’t seem to care about the kids, as he was all talk and bravado; until we lost our oldest in Riyadh airport. The guards making him at gunpoint get into a car with a stranger and drive away. My son was eight. I was in hysteria and all my husband could do was say he was sorry. I wanted to slap him silly. My son was, thank God with a Brit; who telephoned the hotels till he found us. The company lost us too for three days. We stayed there for 5 yrs for a better future but my husband ran off with his old girlfriend and gave her the future. I wouldn’t take back the adventure we had but I wouldn’t repeat it either.

    Reply
  167. I went to Saudi with my husband and babies, the youngest 9 mos., 2 and 8. It was 1978. I was confused and scared for my children most because I saw danger everywhere. My husband didn’t seem to care about the kids, as he was all talk and bravado; until we lost our oldest in Riyadh airport. The guards making him at gunpoint get into a car with a stranger and drive away. My son was eight. I was in hysteria and all my husband could do was say he was sorry. I wanted to slap him silly. My son was, thank God with a Brit; who telephoned the hotels till he found us. The company lost us too for three days. We stayed there for 5 yrs for a better future but my husband ran off with his old girlfriend and gave her the future. I wouldn’t take back the adventure we had but I wouldn’t repeat it either.

    Reply
  168. I went to Saudi with my husband and babies, the youngest 9 mos., 2 and 8. It was 1978. I was confused and scared for my children most because I saw danger everywhere. My husband didn’t seem to care about the kids, as he was all talk and bravado; until we lost our oldest in Riyadh airport. The guards making him at gunpoint get into a car with a stranger and drive away. My son was eight. I was in hysteria and all my husband could do was say he was sorry. I wanted to slap him silly. My son was, thank God with a Brit; who telephoned the hotels till he found us. The company lost us too for three days. We stayed there for 5 yrs for a better future but my husband ran off with his old girlfriend and gave her the future. I wouldn’t take back the adventure we had but I wouldn’t repeat it either.

    Reply
  169. I went to Saudi with my husband and babies, the youngest 9 mos., 2 and 8. It was 1978. I was confused and scared for my children most because I saw danger everywhere. My husband didn’t seem to care about the kids, as he was all talk and bravado; until we lost our oldest in Riyadh airport. The guards making him at gunpoint get into a car with a stranger and drive away. My son was eight. I was in hysteria and all my husband could do was say he was sorry. I wanted to slap him silly. My son was, thank God with a Brit; who telephoned the hotels till he found us. The company lost us too for three days. We stayed there for 5 yrs for a better future but my husband ran off with his old girlfriend and gave her the future. I wouldn’t take back the adventure we had but I wouldn’t repeat it either.

    Reply
  170. I went to Saudi with my husband and babies, the youngest 9 mos., 2 and 8. It was 1978. I was confused and scared for my children most because I saw danger everywhere. My husband didn’t seem to care about the kids, as he was all talk and bravado; until we lost our oldest in Riyadh airport. The guards making him at gunpoint get into a car with a stranger and drive away. My son was eight. I was in hysteria and all my husband could do was say he was sorry. I wanted to slap him silly. My son was, thank God with a Brit; who telephoned the hotels till he found us. The company lost us too for three days. We stayed there for 5 yrs for a better future but my husband ran off with his old girlfriend and gave her the future. I wouldn’t take back the adventure we had but I wouldn’t repeat it either.

    Reply
  171. Linda what a shocking story. You must have been utterly beside yourself. Does your son still remember it?
    And thank goodness for the expat community and the nice man who rang all the hotels until he'd contacted you.
    Hugs — even for so many years ago — hugs.

    Reply
  172. Linda what a shocking story. You must have been utterly beside yourself. Does your son still remember it?
    And thank goodness for the expat community and the nice man who rang all the hotels until he'd contacted you.
    Hugs — even for so many years ago — hugs.

    Reply
  173. Linda what a shocking story. You must have been utterly beside yourself. Does your son still remember it?
    And thank goodness for the expat community and the nice man who rang all the hotels until he'd contacted you.
    Hugs — even for so many years ago — hugs.

    Reply
  174. Linda what a shocking story. You must have been utterly beside yourself. Does your son still remember it?
    And thank goodness for the expat community and the nice man who rang all the hotels until he'd contacted you.
    Hugs — even for so many years ago — hugs.

    Reply
  175. Linda what a shocking story. You must have been utterly beside yourself. Does your son still remember it?
    And thank goodness for the expat community and the nice man who rang all the hotels until he'd contacted you.
    Hugs — even for so many years ago — hugs.

    Reply
  176. Veenu, yes, so many children do go on ahead. We have a lot of overseas students here in Australia, come to study. It must be so hard for their parents, not seeing them every day, and not really knowing how they're going. It's hard for the students, too, learning to stand on their own two feet in a foreign land — as well as having to study hard and get good marks. A sacrifice now for a better future, isn't it, like most migration journeys.

    Reply
  177. Veenu, yes, so many children do go on ahead. We have a lot of overseas students here in Australia, come to study. It must be so hard for their parents, not seeing them every day, and not really knowing how they're going. It's hard for the students, too, learning to stand on their own two feet in a foreign land — as well as having to study hard and get good marks. A sacrifice now for a better future, isn't it, like most migration journeys.

    Reply
  178. Veenu, yes, so many children do go on ahead. We have a lot of overseas students here in Australia, come to study. It must be so hard for their parents, not seeing them every day, and not really knowing how they're going. It's hard for the students, too, learning to stand on their own two feet in a foreign land — as well as having to study hard and get good marks. A sacrifice now for a better future, isn't it, like most migration journeys.

    Reply
  179. Veenu, yes, so many children do go on ahead. We have a lot of overseas students here in Australia, come to study. It must be so hard for their parents, not seeing them every day, and not really knowing how they're going. It's hard for the students, too, learning to stand on their own two feet in a foreign land — as well as having to study hard and get good marks. A sacrifice now for a better future, isn't it, like most migration journeys.

    Reply
  180. Veenu, yes, so many children do go on ahead. We have a lot of overseas students here in Australia, come to study. It must be so hard for their parents, not seeing them every day, and not really knowing how they're going. It's hard for the students, too, learning to stand on their own two feet in a foreign land — as well as having to study hard and get good marks. A sacrifice now for a better future, isn't it, like most migration journeys.

    Reply
  181. Post WW2, my parents emigrated to Australia. They were greeted by Mr Beasley (father of the politician we know of today) just off the coast from Perth and told they were now Australian citizens. My mother had all her teeth taken out before they left Britain, unsure whether there would be dentists in the new country so far away.
    When I was a child, we sailed via the Suez Canal back to England to assuage mum’s homesickness but within four months, were on another boat heading ‘home’ to Australia. It was a four-week trip and we were in the last convoy to get through the Canal before it was closed due to another war that had erupted in the Middle East. That taste of travel must have given me the desire because my husband and I have visited many places and taken our children to experience different cultures.
    The world is definitely smaller now though. My husband and son watched American Idol in Nepal and continued to follow Adam Lambert’s success on the show when they came home. So much fun, travelling!

    Reply
  182. Post WW2, my parents emigrated to Australia. They were greeted by Mr Beasley (father of the politician we know of today) just off the coast from Perth and told they were now Australian citizens. My mother had all her teeth taken out before they left Britain, unsure whether there would be dentists in the new country so far away.
    When I was a child, we sailed via the Suez Canal back to England to assuage mum’s homesickness but within four months, were on another boat heading ‘home’ to Australia. It was a four-week trip and we were in the last convoy to get through the Canal before it was closed due to another war that had erupted in the Middle East. That taste of travel must have given me the desire because my husband and I have visited many places and taken our children to experience different cultures.
    The world is definitely smaller now though. My husband and son watched American Idol in Nepal and continued to follow Adam Lambert’s success on the show when they came home. So much fun, travelling!

    Reply
  183. Post WW2, my parents emigrated to Australia. They were greeted by Mr Beasley (father of the politician we know of today) just off the coast from Perth and told they were now Australian citizens. My mother had all her teeth taken out before they left Britain, unsure whether there would be dentists in the new country so far away.
    When I was a child, we sailed via the Suez Canal back to England to assuage mum’s homesickness but within four months, were on another boat heading ‘home’ to Australia. It was a four-week trip and we were in the last convoy to get through the Canal before it was closed due to another war that had erupted in the Middle East. That taste of travel must have given me the desire because my husband and I have visited many places and taken our children to experience different cultures.
    The world is definitely smaller now though. My husband and son watched American Idol in Nepal and continued to follow Adam Lambert’s success on the show when they came home. So much fun, travelling!

    Reply
  184. Post WW2, my parents emigrated to Australia. They were greeted by Mr Beasley (father of the politician we know of today) just off the coast from Perth and told they were now Australian citizens. My mother had all her teeth taken out before they left Britain, unsure whether there would be dentists in the new country so far away.
    When I was a child, we sailed via the Suez Canal back to England to assuage mum’s homesickness but within four months, were on another boat heading ‘home’ to Australia. It was a four-week trip and we were in the last convoy to get through the Canal before it was closed due to another war that had erupted in the Middle East. That taste of travel must have given me the desire because my husband and I have visited many places and taken our children to experience different cultures.
    The world is definitely smaller now though. My husband and son watched American Idol in Nepal and continued to follow Adam Lambert’s success on the show when they came home. So much fun, travelling!

    Reply
  185. Post WW2, my parents emigrated to Australia. They were greeted by Mr Beasley (father of the politician we know of today) just off the coast from Perth and told they were now Australian citizens. My mother had all her teeth taken out before they left Britain, unsure whether there would be dentists in the new country so far away.
    When I was a child, we sailed via the Suez Canal back to England to assuage mum’s homesickness but within four months, were on another boat heading ‘home’ to Australia. It was a four-week trip and we were in the last convoy to get through the Canal before it was closed due to another war that had erupted in the Middle East. That taste of travel must have given me the desire because my husband and I have visited many places and taken our children to experience different cultures.
    The world is definitely smaller now though. My husband and son watched American Idol in Nepal and continued to follow Adam Lambert’s success on the show when they came home. So much fun, travelling!

    Reply
  186. Anne, have you ever been tempted to write a book, basing it off this situation? So maybe a seaboard romance or what might have happened to those men once they reached Oz? Maybe it can be 5 guys, all from diff parts of Italy/ Europe and they form a bond and then what happens to them next. I’m spinning stories myself now, as your descriptions are so evocative!

    Reply
  187. Anne, have you ever been tempted to write a book, basing it off this situation? So maybe a seaboard romance or what might have happened to those men once they reached Oz? Maybe it can be 5 guys, all from diff parts of Italy/ Europe and they form a bond and then what happens to them next. I’m spinning stories myself now, as your descriptions are so evocative!

    Reply
  188. Anne, have you ever been tempted to write a book, basing it off this situation? So maybe a seaboard romance or what might have happened to those men once they reached Oz? Maybe it can be 5 guys, all from diff parts of Italy/ Europe and they form a bond and then what happens to them next. I’m spinning stories myself now, as your descriptions are so evocative!

    Reply
  189. Anne, have you ever been tempted to write a book, basing it off this situation? So maybe a seaboard romance or what might have happened to those men once they reached Oz? Maybe it can be 5 guys, all from diff parts of Italy/ Europe and they form a bond and then what happens to them next. I’m spinning stories myself now, as your descriptions are so evocative!

    Reply
  190. Anne, have you ever been tempted to write a book, basing it off this situation? So maybe a seaboard romance or what might have happened to those men once they reached Oz? Maybe it can be 5 guys, all from diff parts of Italy/ Europe and they form a bond and then what happens to them next. I’m spinning stories myself now, as your descriptions are so evocative!

    Reply
  191. In ages before the world ran dry,
    what might the maples not contain?
    Atlantis gleamed like a dream to die,
    Avalon lay under faerie reign,
    Cibola guarded a golden plain

    but men grew weary and they grew sane
    and they grew grown — and so did I —
    and knew Tartessus was only Spain.
    No galleons call at Taprobane …
    from Poul Anderson’s Ballade Of An Artificial Satellite

    Reply
  192. In ages before the world ran dry,
    what might the maples not contain?
    Atlantis gleamed like a dream to die,
    Avalon lay under faerie reign,
    Cibola guarded a golden plain

    but men grew weary and they grew sane
    and they grew grown — and so did I —
    and knew Tartessus was only Spain.
    No galleons call at Taprobane …
    from Poul Anderson’s Ballade Of An Artificial Satellite

    Reply
  193. In ages before the world ran dry,
    what might the maples not contain?
    Atlantis gleamed like a dream to die,
    Avalon lay under faerie reign,
    Cibola guarded a golden plain

    but men grew weary and they grew sane
    and they grew grown — and so did I —
    and knew Tartessus was only Spain.
    No galleons call at Taprobane …
    from Poul Anderson’s Ballade Of An Artificial Satellite

    Reply
  194. In ages before the world ran dry,
    what might the maples not contain?
    Atlantis gleamed like a dream to die,
    Avalon lay under faerie reign,
    Cibola guarded a golden plain

    but men grew weary and they grew sane
    and they grew grown — and so did I —
    and knew Tartessus was only Spain.
    No galleons call at Taprobane …
    from Poul Anderson’s Ballade Of An Artificial Satellite

    Reply
  195. In ages before the world ran dry,
    what might the maples not contain?
    Atlantis gleamed like a dream to die,
    Avalon lay under faerie reign,
    Cibola guarded a golden plain

    but men grew weary and they grew sane
    and they grew grown — and so did I —
    and knew Tartessus was only Spain.
    No galleons call at Taprobane …
    from Poul Anderson’s Ballade Of An Artificial Satellite

    Reply
  196. Kanch that's a fun idea. There would certainly be plenty of material for a book or a series of books in it, I'm sure. I'll keep it in mind — thanks for the thought.

    Reply
  197. Kanch that's a fun idea. There would certainly be plenty of material for a book or a series of books in it, I'm sure. I'll keep it in mind — thanks for the thought.

    Reply
  198. Kanch that's a fun idea. There would certainly be plenty of material for a book or a series of books in it, I'm sure. I'll keep it in mind — thanks for the thought.

    Reply
  199. Kanch that's a fun idea. There would certainly be plenty of material for a book or a series of books in it, I'm sure. I'll keep it in mind — thanks for the thought.

    Reply
  200. Kanch that's a fun idea. There would certainly be plenty of material for a book or a series of books in it, I'm sure. I'll keep it in mind — thanks for the thought.

    Reply
  201. Yay! I hope the muses are agreeable and you are indeed able to publish something set within this context – I’d ove to read anything you write
    🙂

    Reply
  202. Yay! I hope the muses are agreeable and you are indeed able to publish something set within this context – I’d ove to read anything you write
    🙂

    Reply
  203. Yay! I hope the muses are agreeable and you are indeed able to publish something set within this context – I’d ove to read anything you write
    🙂

    Reply
  204. Yay! I hope the muses are agreeable and you are indeed able to publish something set within this context – I’d ove to read anything you write
    🙂

    Reply
  205. Yay! I hope the muses are agreeable and you are indeed able to publish something set within this context – I’d ove to read anything you write
    🙂

    Reply

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