A good friend posted pictures about her fabulous trip to London. They saw the changing of the guard, the Crown Jewels and toured some of the most famous places in England.
Another friend just came back from Switzerland, and she said there is no way to properly describe the majesty of the Swiss Alps. Every shop had exquisite chocolates, and she said the food was wonderful.
My niece constantly scours travel deals and recently returned from trips to Denver and San Antonio. She posted photos of the snowy mountains and scenes from the leisurely boat ride down the Riverwalk.
Me? I took a trip to Louisiana.
Saw a chemical plant, a giant metal building shaped like an alligator and more concrete median barriers lining the side of the interstate than there are Thibodeaux’s in Breaux Bridge.
Not that there wasn’t excitement along the way. I narrowly missed a giant pothole between Lafayette and Rayne after watching the guy in front of me practically lose a back wheel when he hit the pothole.
I also patted myself on the back for having the foresight to get off I-10 before the Mississippi River bridge, thus avoiding sitting in a long line of traffic to get into Baton Rouge.
Not everything on the trip was sunshine and roses.
When I pulled over at a rest stop to catch a quick nap, a van pulled up next to me and blared rock music while they smoked and made sandwiches from the side door.
That 20-minute nap lasted about 5 minutes.
There was some excitement. I drove five miles over the speed limit, refusing to slow down to 50 when the traffic thinned out. That only lasted about a half mile, but I was pretty daring for that five-minute stretch.
Instead of staying on a crowded interstate highway, I took the 210 Loop around Lake Charles. Being that high over the water is always a bit nerve racking for me.
Not exactly on-the-edge living, but these days, that’s about as exciting as it gets.
When we were quarantined for Covid, I told myself when it was safe to travel, I wasn’t going to waste any time. I’d get out there and see the world.
First on the bucket list is a trip to any section of Route 66. The reason – I celebrated my 66th birthday back in July and I want to drive on Route 66 when I am 66.
I settled on flying into Albuquerque and taking a drive northeast to Santa Fe and then circling back to Albuquerque.
I was ready to book our flights a few months ago after the summer holidays, and Covid reared its horrible head again. When the coast looked clear, it was snowing in Albuquerque, and I have no desire to sightsee or drive in the snow and ice.
Just when I started researching airline flights to New Mexico, gas prices and airline tickets shot through the roof.
The section from Albuquerque to Santa Fe looks promising, but the pessimistic side of me thinks we’ll go to Amarillo, take a look at all those Cadillacs stuck in the dirt and come right back to Houston.
But hope springs eternal. As of the date this column is published, I have 118 days to make that road trip from Albuquerque to Santa Fe a reality.
Seeing Big Ben or traveling internationally is pretty exciting, but as the song says, I’ll get my kicks on Route 66.
This column was originally published in The Fort Bend Herald.