Cynthia Sally Haggard

An Essay I wrote about traveling the day I left for Europe

I am one of those people who loves to travel. I make my travel plans a year ahead.

Once I have found the perfect tour with the perfect travel company (I like Odysseys Unlimited) I then have plenty of time to dream and niggle those travel plans until I find the perfect add-ons for my overseas trip. 

After all, it doesn’t make sense to show up jet-lagged to The Tour of a Lifetime. And so I need somewhere to park myself for a few days while I recover from my trans-Atlantic journey, the perfect hotel at a reasonable cost, somewhere quiet and scenic with wonderful rooms, fabulous views, and plenty of yummy meals. (I like the Italian lakes.)

Then I have to visit family and friends in Europe, so that involves even more planning.

It is only when I am kneeling in front of my suitcase wondering how on earth I’m going to fit everything in, that doubts assail me. Why am I going? What happens if something goes wrong? Am I really going to waltz off to Italy all by myself? Get on a plane to Istanbul? Travel from Istanbul to England? And get myself back home at the end of it all?

It is so easy to worry, and as a young woman I spent way too much time thinking about all the possible things that could go wrong. But as I shut my suitcase with a contented sigh, realizing that I have someone managed to have a 19 lb cabin bag and a 43 lb suitcase, all of my worries fade. 

I am going on holiday. 

I am going to have a wonderful time. 

I really need this break.

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