I am the Nomadic Traveler. I love traveling as much as I love being at home. Home provides comforts like my kitchen, where I love to cook, and my bed and own pillow, which are more certain to allow sleep than a foreign hotel bed, pillows of unpredictable filling, and new sounds, dripping sounds, ice machine sounds, air conditioner sounds, people talking, or ahem doing other things in the next room. Home also allows relaxation and, to date, I haven’t known a vacation that afforded this luxury, filled with bustle and sight-seeing to seize the opportunity of adventure and learning while it’s there.

My favorite destinations are parks and my favorite among these is Yosemite, which I trekked to for five consecutive years from the East Coast, and would still be except that my husband wisely advised that we go someplace new. I’ve hiked Half Dome three times, but I’m not done with the monster, not until I can say without even a bit of exaggeration that I showed it who is boss, that I scaled and descended its intimidating ladder with ease and in a state of mental blithe. The Grand Canyon Kaibab trail is also among this to-do list.

As far as cities go, I’ve overdone San Francisco. As a tourist, it holds little charm for me, but the fantasy of being a resident is stronger than ever, if only I could win the Lotto or become a favored recipient of the untold wealth of some rich, unknown relative.

European cities, of course, are unrivaled in terms of charm and appeal. They are the ultimate. Italy is indescribable. I wanted to visit since I first saw pictures at the tender age of 12. When I finally visited on my honeymoon, nearly thirty years later, it was even better than I imagined. I love the European way of life, the pastry shops, their public transport, vacations, their focus on enjoying relationships, not maximizing possessions. Americans cheat themselves of quality life every day the pursuit of a bigger home and an expensive car takes them away from family, friends, happiness, and relaxation. What we value sometimes is all wrong and makes us fools.

One day I hope to become a travel writer by profession. Again, perhaps when aforementioned relative changes my situation such that a traditional job is completely optional and unnecessary.

You can find pictures to accompany these journal entries and more information on the home page at Nomadic Traveler. The website is currently a work in progress, in between working full time and the Sisyphusian task of laundry, vacuuming, and dishes (or avoiding them if I’m being honest).

To find pointless, poorly thought-out and even more crudely composed ramblings of all kinds, you can visit my other website at Enchanting Sunshine, the mission of which is to solve world peace, as well as provide an outlet for my any number of outrages, puzzlements, and daily annoyances. If you happen to love the Baltimore Orioles, and if you do, you are a comrade, you should visit Sixteen Gold Gloves. Avoid my writing completely, but there you will find links to quality writers about the Orioles.

Yosemite Speaks for Itself

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