Human connection is a gift: a radiant sunrise, bringing warmth and light to the soul. But it's easy to neglect amid the messiness of life, the doom-scrolling, the polarizing politics, the rising costs, and melting ice caps. Yet, even brief encounters can deeply enhance well-being. To my delight, I've discovered a profound sense of connection and belonging through nurturing relationships, seeking bonds amid change, and cherishing shared experiences, even while living a transient lifestyle.
Imagine spending a decade of extended stays in various countries, soaking in each place's unique atmosphere. That's the backdrop of my travel memoir, I Could Live Here. One of the highlights for me has been stumbling upon local shops that genuinely capture the essence of their communities. Whether it's the skillful creations of local makers, the diverse collections in art galleries, or the cozy corners of inviting bookstores, here are a few shops that embody the independent spirit of some of my favorite places.
Can you believe we're on the cusp of a new year? It has me dreaming about what's next and thinking about ways to enhance our explorations in 2024—individually and collectively. How, as travelers, can we be more present and appreciative of the people and wonders around us while embracing a form of travel focused on forming meaningful connections, discovering more about ourselves, and positively impacting the communities we visit? For those considering extended adventures in 2024, I wanted to share some tips for nurturing a genuine sense of home and belonging on the move.
We all have our favorite places. For me, one of those places is Évora, Portugal, a UNESCO World Heritage city just over an hour’s drive from Lisbon and set to be Europe’s Capital of Culture in 2027. Here are a few of the things I love most about living in Évora, the capital of the Alentejo region, and some insider tips to help you navigate a visit.
I spent the past week in transition, relocating from Scotland to Portugal as part of our ongoing nomadic journey. Settling into the next place is just one of the many things I look forward to. If you're contemplating a new transition, here are some hard-won tips to help you make the most of it. Plus, I'm celebrating my sixtieth birthday this month with exciting news.
Join me on a Scottish adventure. From the ancient charm of Edinburgh to the coastal haven of Charlestown, the journey unfolds tales of warmth, unexpected friendships, and the timeless allure of Scotland. This article for YourLifeIsATrip.com is more than a travelogue; it's a love affair with a place that has become a cherished temporary home. Read More →
In a world that often emphasizes stability in midlife, I've chosen an unconventional path for middle age—a nomadic way of life. And, while not an approach suited for everyone, long-stay travel holds unexpected rewards. For me, it's a lifestyle that has unveiled the riches of uncertainty, change, and connection. Drawn from a decade of long-term travel, here are ten advantages to embracing nomadism in midlife—or at any stage of life.
The year was 1991. I was twenty-eight, optimistic, and an American teaching maths in Forres, Scotland. When I invited the nine members of the maths department and their plus-ones to a traditional Thanksgiving meal, it would take the Church of Scotland, the butcher Macdonald, and the Royal Air Force to make it happen.
Thirty-seven days into self-isolation I asked my husband Hank, “Are you lonely?” Like much of the world’s population, we are physical-distancing and staying home to help prevent the spread of the novel coronavirus COVID-19. Would this, I worried, lead to loneliness? And, in turn, to biological effects as deadly as the virus itself? Instead, isolation has brought clarity to something we'd innately suspected all along.
It occurred to me recently that sometime in the uncertain future, life will be perceived through the filter of two lenses: All that came before the coronavirus 2019 pandemic, and that which follows. And, like so many of us, I wonder what a post-COVID-19 reality will look like and how we can find hope, amidst despair, in the capacity of our own hearts and choices.
It’s been almost a year since I wrote about the death of my father and the complex emotions I experienced as a result of being in South America when he passed.
This time, it is aging (I celebrated my 54th birthday this month) in an ancient city in Portugal that inspired me to share my thoughts about politics, travel, and hope.
A new year is ripe with potential: 52 weeks, 365 days, 8760 hours, 525,600 minutes, 31,536,000 seconds to choose differently, to perceive differently, to BE different. And, whether it's optimistic or delusional, I enjoy the act of creating new year's resolutions.