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The Road (Not) Taken

The Road (Not) Taken
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Wanderlust. Noun. A strong desire to travel. That’s me on a normal day, so ratchet that up tenfold now that we’re all living in the Upside Down. Got so bad, I started scrolling through old photos to try and live vicariously through the me that was in those photos. Something I never realized I took as many pictures of: roads. I seem to particularly have a thing for the winding ones where you’re not quite sure what’s around the corner, so you approach it like a kid on Christmas morn, filled with anticipation, ready to see if this unexpected little gift will open up to reveal something truly amazing like that Red Rider BB Gun you’d been jonesing for all year. (Sorry. Ralphie from A Christmas Story flashback. No idea where that came from.) Having to stick close to home these past few months has had me dreaming of the open road, and the beauty and wonder and little surprises that often come with it. Below are some snapshots I took by just sticking my arm out of a moving car.

Palm Beach. I left my brother’s house in West Palm and drove across the bridge to what I had heard was this enclave of wealth and prosperity to see if it was really as ritzy as everyone had made it out to be. Iit was. In fact, the formidable facades of some of these mega mansions were straight up intimidating. But on my way up Ocean Boulevard, framed by the Atlantic Ocean to my right, I saw these amazing clouds forming ahead of me, so I stuck my arm out the window and clicked. I look at this pic today and can still smell the salt in the water, and feel the wind against my face.
Kanab, Utah. I’m a Caribbean girl used to palm trees, rainforests and greenery, but I find the rock formations and wondrous cloud coverings of the Southwest straight up mystical. Took this picture while on a trip to the Grand Canyon, Antelope Slot Canyon in Page Arizona, and Horseshoe Canyon in Utah, which are all stunning places, but this pic taken from the passenger seat of the car was one of my favorites. Can’t you just feel the energy and power emanating from this place?
Chamonix-Mont-Blanc. Ahhh, the Alps. Can’t you just smell the fresh, clean air. I love the light and dark contrast of this picture. We had left Paris, driven through Switzerland, then came back into France to arrive at this little Alpine town that–Jeopardy! answer…happens to be the first place the Winter Olympics were ever held. It is so cute. A river runs through it. It’s surrounded by snow capped mountains. There are fireplaces in seemingly every establishment. Seriously, one of the romantic places I’ve ever been. Unfortunately, the trip wasn’t a romantic one, but to celebrate the birthdays of two friends. One night, at a cozy little restaurant, we glanced at each other, mumbled, “This is a waste,” and burst out laughing.

Grand Island, Nebraska. Again–Caribbean girl, rainforests. Hurricanes, yes. Tornadoes–say what?!!! The sirens blare and the streets empty and the skies darken, and you feel so insignificant–which I’ve realized, can sometimes be a good thing. Doesn’t this look like the sky in The Ten Commandments when Moses is about to part the Red Sea? No? That’s just me?
Galway, Ireland. I know, I know. Castles were often drafty and dank. Not to mention, some of them had murder holes replete with vats of boiling oil that would be released on intruders. But I’m a glass half full kind of girl, so to me, there’s something so wildly romantic and mysterious about castles. Right now, I’m envisioning my ten year old brain envisioning what lies at the end of this lane…pure fantasy!
San Blas, Cusco, Peru. This lane leads to Limbus, a bar/restaurant that looks out over the city of Cusco, which is pretty impressive considering that Cusco is already 11,200 feet up in the air. As we climbed higher and higher in our attempt to arrive at the bar, the poor asthma sufferer in our party begged us to leave her behind–not that the thinner air was exactly a walk in the park for those of us working with healthy lungs. But we got to our destination without leaving man or woman behind, and through its glass walls were rewarded with views of the mountains surrounding the city and the red tiled roofs of the houses spreading out below us, as we enjoyed the national drink, pisco sours.
St. Ann, Jamaica. This is my favorite road, and not because it reminds me of Robert Frost’s poem: “Two roads diverged in a yellow wood…” At the fork is a sign post of rusted metal into which the names of nearby villages such as McDowell and Prickle Pole and Alexandria are carved. Harsh sun and rain, however, have made many of these names difficult to read. To the left of the fork are places I’m not familiar with, but the the right, well, that’s a whole other story. The white sign at the top with the red arrow is reasonably new, and it stands out. It stands out because it advertises Nine Mile, the village where Bob Marley was both born and laid to rest. Nowhere on that signpost is the name of Stepney, the village next to Nine Mile, where my Grandmother was born, and to which she was returned upon her death. It’s where a good number of my mother’s side of the family was laid to rest, but also where I spent a bit of time at the beginning of my life. A place where you don’t dare wear white on account of the red ore filled dirt. A Jamaica most people will never know, high up in the mountains, where mornings are misty, afternoons are scorching hot, and nights give off a chill not expected in a tropical land.

When we’re back in the right side up, where do you want your road to lead?

6 comments

What a great post and I love the pix! I’m copying your idea and writing my own travel post! And ps YOU-ME-ROADTRIP

Hey Sis those are some great pics, love the scenery, make me wanna get on the road to see some of them.

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