“We’re going on a safari.”

With limited resources, the alternative to costly travel abroad was to take us on what my father dubbed “safaris.”  Although there were occasional overnight excursions, safaris were typically a one-day adventure hatched over a late-night snack and a map long after my two brothers, sister, and I were fast asleep. It was a real bonus if he could make the route, highlighted in bright color on his well-creased map, look like an animal, a plant, or any other tangible thing. 

The next day, an early morning reverie of “we’re going on a safari” would inspire an eye roll from my older brother, squeals of “where are we going daddy and will there be ice-cream” from the younger siblings, and the familiar leap of anticipation in my core.  From the time I was a toddler, the mere sound of the car door opening caused an adrenalin rush, a sense that something different was about to happen, and I did not want to miss it. 

After the inevitable arguments of who would sit where and why, the long safari hours would pass with the help of Mom’s random musings about where a shed on a flatbed truck was going or who might live in that interesting little house or why a town was called a peculiar name. 

Like Alice in Wonderland, we all willingly followed down whatever rabbit whole her imagination wandered.   

The featured destinations of our safaris were not of the exotic animal type but rather a local historic site or cultural activity of significance (albeit sometimes significant only in my father’s mind).  For example, it might be a Vermont dairy farm where we could experience cheese production from milking the cows to fermentation, aging, and best of all tasting.  Or it could be a day exploring Sturbridge Village where volunteers re-enacted rural daily life as it was in the 1800s. Or the journey might simply be to reach a prime pic-nic spot for feasting on fried chicken, Scottish meat pies, and hopefully a sweet surprise after appropriately extolling the beauty of fall colors along the Mohawk Trail. 

After I graduated from college, my parents encouraged my desire for independent safaris (certainly stuffing down some fears of me leaving their safety net).  Trips throughout Great Britain, Continental Europe, Japan, and Hong Kong rooted my passion for travel and other cultures more deeply.  And although I did finally experience the wonder and awe of a genuine African safari just a few years ago, I try to keep alive the spirit of my dad’s safaris in all my travels and to find a little wonder and awe in the simple journeys of day-to-day life.

To discover how my path joined with my co-conspirator in expat life and wander with us, follow the journey.