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Richard Halliburton

My mother had a passion for used books. During my childhood she picked up hundreds of musty volumes from various Midwestern fairs, library sales, and thrift shops. One gloomy autumn day, while shelving her latest finds in the wall of bookshelves lovingly built by my step-father, I stumbled across several of Richard Halliburton’s semi-autobiographical travelogues; a few black and white photos and an exotic story about the Taj Mahal, and I was hooked on the handsome thrill-seeking travel guru of the Twenties and Thirties. 

Despite my less glorious experiences in modern travel, I remain addicted to the pleasures of different cultures, food, languages, architecture, climates and people. As a result I am able to offer you a healthy dose of practical travel advice, the odd tidbit of exotic locations for inspiration, updates on settling into our new home in Tucson, and a sprinkling of snark.

With COVID19 vaccines a reality, there may be more about travel, but lately this blog is about my own journey on the road to wherever the Universe has decided I need to be next.


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Give It Time

Even the most relentlessly cheerful person is going to run face first into a hard surface from time to time. Just remember, no matter how much it sucks, it’s not over until its over. I wish I had better advice to give.

The Small Town of Willcox and the Future of Southern AZ Wine

So we drove an hour and twenty minutes south-east of Tucson to visit Willcox, its 3,551 souls, and 20 plus tasting rooms. If this seems like a disproportionate number of wine tasting locations for such a small town, I would agree. But the folks who live in the town and surrounding areas of Willcox have the kind of optimism, determination, work ethic, and vision necessary to make exquisite lemonade out of the driest of lemons.

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