I loved traveling — especially alone so that I didn’t have to worry about other people’s plans and schedules. Those were days when I was an early riser with a lot of energy, so I wanted to get up in the morning and be out and about.

After Garry and I got married and we worked out a few kinks in our traveling, we became great travelers. We had a good time together — everywhere we went.

I don’t think we had a really bad vacation. We had one when it rained — heavily — every day . I suppose that was as bad as it got. There was one where the accommodations were nasty, but the weather was great. I think I’d rather have crappy accommodations than bad weather. After all, how much time do you really spend in your hotel room? If the weather is good, you’re only there to sleep.

These days, though, the idea of travel makes me tired in advance. It isn’t just bad backs and the arthritis or that we don’t want to spend a day on our feet.

It’s the airlines that want to charge you for a bag of peanuts and have made the seating so tight that even short people like us are crowded. It’s the noisy airports where all we hear is white noise, static, echo, and mumbling. There are no comfortable seats and a bottle of coke can cost seven or eight dollars.

There’s no fun in flying. The security makes it so slow. The weird restrictions make it impossible to know if you can take your shampoo and hair gel or they will be seized as potential explosives. The elderly are their favorite targets for setting up extra fees for everything.

Nothing to eat while you’re flying, though I notice there’s plenty of booze aboard. No assistance during the flight. I’m too old to heave my bag into the overhead bin and I’m not putting my valuable — or my computer and cameras into cargo.

And then, there’s driving. Rutted roads, miles of traffic jams or just plain heavy traffic. Road construction. Detours. Those days when we could drive all day are gone. Three or four hours into a trip, we’re ready for a nap and a soft chair.

Not far from Phoenix …

There are places I’d love to see, cities I’ve yet to explore … but I’m afraid they will have to wait for the next round of life.

Our best traveling days  were in our forties and fifties when we were still energetic, but didn’t have a little kid to plan around. When it was just the two of us. No agenda, no plans. Just going where we felt like going whenever we were in the mood.

But if won a vast quantity of money on, say, the lottery and we could do it all first class? I might just change my mind!