Almost every day someone asks me the same questions: Why travel to fifty countries at fifty years old? Why travel solo? Why spend months away from home chasing stamps in a passport? Until recently, I wasn't sure I could fully answer that question. Sure, there are the personal reasons. This journey has been about overcoming fears, taking time to reflect, getting to know myself better, and figuring out where I want to go in this second phase of my life. But I knew there was

My grandson said six words that nearly broke my heart. “Nonna, I don't like painting anymore.” “What? Why don’t you like to paint, Axel?” “It’s okay, Nonna. It’s just because I’m six now. Maybe when I’m older, I’ll like it again.” “I don’t believe it, Axel. We always love to paint together, so maybe we are just a little out of practice. I bet if we get back into the studio, you’ll like it again.” Every week I dedicate one day to Axel. He calls them “Nonna Days,” and they

I just got back to the Pacific Northwest for the summer and I've already been asked several times, "So when do you leave again?" For those of you who haven't been following along, my goal has been to visit fifty countries during my 50th year. When I launched last October, I had a solid plan. I would explore Eastern Europe, come home for Christmas, spend the spring traveling through Central and South America, come back for my youngest son's college graduation, and wrap up the

Travel sometimes gives you beautiful views, but occasionally, it gives you something much more rare: a moment in time you know you’ll never forget. I began chatting in the chocolate shop with a man named Andreas and he asked if I had plans for my last night in Quito. I didn’t. He simply asked, “White or red?” “White or red what?” I said. “Wine.” I laughed and said, “Red, of course.” Since I was traveling alone, I messaged my tour guide, Stephania Nicole, to ask about h

Some cities welcome you with smiles. Quito tosses you into the clouds. At nearly 9,000 feet above sea level and sitting almost directly on the equator, Ecuador’s capital is suspended between sun and mist, mountains and city lights, ancient culture and modern life. When my plane landed, just as Maria had promised, a driver named Miguel was waiting for me with a sign with my name on it. He took me to my hotel in La Floresta, a beautiful neighborhood just outside Quito’s h

Sometimes when you travel, you visit a place. Other times, you find a home. I thought I was simply spending a few days in Cuenca, Ecuador. Instead, I found myself welcomed into a family, sitting at their table, wandering markets together, and realizing that the most meaningful parts of travel are rarely the places—they’re the people. Maria and I met at “therapy camp” three years ago. We shared some of our darkest and deepest secrets and have held space for one another duri

“You are going to Guayaquil?” Jack threw back the last swallow of his local Belize beer. “You know they call that city the kidnapping capital of the world?” Then he proceeded to tell me that a taxi driver drove him out to the middle of nowhere and tried to bribe him out of a hundred dollars to take him back to the city. Jack called his bluff and he made it back safely. This was like the fifth person I had met throughout Central America who questioned me about why I was goin

By the time I arrived in El Salvador, it was late. We pulled down a side street through a big arch that read El Tunco. Streets were full of people milling around, beers in hand, laughing and chattering. It felt like Tamarindo, Costa Rica mixed with Seaside, Oregon — a surf-town energy with a rustic edge and pupusa shops next to coffee and smoothie bars. Las Palmas Hostel welcomed me with a pool party, beers, and a crowd mostly in their twenties and thirties. Things were hop

So I wanted to get into El Salvador from Nicaragua, but I ran into some problems: the flights were really expensive a bus ride would was be incredibly long the border crossing via bus would cross through Honduras, which is dangerous right now So back to the drawing board. When I looked at flights to Guatemala, on the other hand, they were half the price and upon further review, there was a layover in San Salvador. So what if I just got off in San Salvador? Could I do that

The first thing I noticed when I arrived at my hotel in Granada, Nicaragua was the artwork. There were small paintings on each of the doors some of little geckos, iguanas,and butterflies. There were bigger paintings hanging through the lobby, the walkways, and in every room by the same artist. At first, I thought the work seemed amateur, but when I looked closer at the painting behind my bed, I felt drawn in — its simplicity or innocence came through and I could feel the p