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My youngest son is readying for another adventure. One that involves rolled up clothes in duffel bags, a passport, and another continent. He can’t wait. By now, he’s at the airport. Or on a plane, happily off into the wild blue that called his father, his grandfathers. Given history, it will be at least a year…

I am now an official, seasoned Amtrak traveller: I have taken a coffin-shower bath. This is it: big enough to stand up   in, and w/ surprisingly good pressure. Considering I on this next leg from Chicago to Fort Worth for 24 hours, I’m just glad for the access! In places where I’ve lived, running water —…

You see differently when you’re on the road. Something about the ribbon of highway before you, the enclosed space of the car, the forced closeness and the expanse of sky and road. It’s a kind of magic. Greater writers than I have said so – I won’t belabour the point. But I do wonder what…

Everyone who knows me even slightly knows I adore trains.  They’re my favourite way to travel. Because a) you don’t get airsick (or carsick). And b) you can just sit…and write. It’s this tiny world where all that exists are you, the window on America (or France, or Holland, or Belgium, or Thailand, or wherever…), a dining…
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