My favorite part of the holidays isn’t the gifts, it’s the getaway. Every December I start hunting for a place that smells like pine and fireplace smoke, where the snow actually cooperates and the hotel robe is thicker than my…
I still remember the year I almost skipped Christmas travel altogether because I assumed a festive getaway meant a five-star hotel bill and a flight I couldn’t justify. Turns out, I was wrong. Some of my favorite holiday memories came…
I grew up thinking I knew the West Coast. Big Sur, the San Juans, Zion (okay, not technically West Coast, but you get the idea) the postcard spots everyone tags on Instagram. Then a friend dragged me down a gravel…
My first month on the road, I tried to cook pasta with a single burner balanced on a cooler lid, no cutting board, and a fork I’d stolen from a gas station. It was a disaster, and also the moment…
My favorite season sneaks up on me every single year. One morning I’ll step outside for coffee and catch that first hint of crispness in the air, and suddenly I’m pulling out my cozy sweaters and mentally packing my bags.…
My love affair with train travel started on a rainy Tuesday morning, three years ago, when I boarded a train with no real plan except to watch the world go by from a window seat. I remember pressing my palm…
The first time I truly fell in love with fall wasn’t in a big city or on some famous scenic highway. It was in a tiny mountain town where golden leaves drifted onto quiet sidewalks, local coffee shops smelled like…
My passport was sitting in a drawer, tucked under a stack of old boarding passes, and I remember staring at it one rainy Tuesday and sighing the way you sigh when you need a trip but your bank account (and…
I still remember standing on a ridge in Glacier National Park last August, watching the alpenglow spill across a lake so blue it barely looked real, and thinking: why did it take me this long to plan a trip around…
My first glimpse of a French lavender field stopped me mid-sentence on a phone call I still haven’t finished. The rows ran straight to the horizon, the air smelled like a perfume counter left out in the sun, and I…
