The age of travel. Age and Travel. Travel while aging. Travel through time and place. Aging in place through time. Time and again. Traveling again. Aging still.
Well anyway this blog is about travel and age. It seemed to make sense to put the two topics together because if there are to be two posts a week I can’t fill them all with travel—at least not while employed at a modest salary. However aging is here and everyday and inescapable so I can easily fill unlimited posts on that subject. Today my left wrist hurts and tomorrow…. No shortage of body part conditions about which to whine. Or I could wax eloquent about the ever-fascinating joys of aging…. And on this beautiful sunny day during my last 25 years (!) on earth, I can daily smell the roses—no, no, I meant the brown dead dusty leaves…and they don’t even smell. Flowery eloquence may not work well for me.
You see even after my travel adventures have come to an end, I envision writing on this very blog about the good and the bad of the aging process until the day I drop dead. It is not a given that people will still read actual words by that momentous (for me) day but even so I will be writing them.
Please someone, remember, when I do actually cease to exist, to add a postscript here about why I’ve stopped writing.
I’ve been contemplating my Mongolian visit, time in a ger/yurt/tent and riding the cranky camel and thinking that if that’s something I need to do, it had better be done soon…there may be some age limit for posing for pictures astride a camel who obviously doesn’t like you. That’s what made me start writing about age this morning.