Andi

I love a good storm. I love the adrenaline rush while being completely safe from actual danger, the way some people like monster roller coasters or scary movies. But a hurricane? I vacillated between thrilled anticipation and abject terror. Looking at the projected path, there was really nowhere we could go to get to absolute […]

When Kevin suggested a trip into Mexico City, I had visions of scraping our rearview mirrors on narrow streets. Been there. Of bumping a line of parked motorcycles and having to jump out and prop them up to prevent them tumbling down in a domino effect. Done that. And of being forced to back down

Instagram is a lie! Well, not a lie exactly, but it definitely doesn’t tell the whole story. If you have spent any time on social media, I am sure you have seen the “Instagram vs. reality” posts.  Ones where a traveler shows themselves soaking in a beautiful, secluded hot spring. Looks perfect. Until you pan

My travels have made me realize my world view is not the only, nor possibly even the correct world view. Spending Dia de los Muertos in the country where the tradition has its roots has peeled back my blinders even more. I have always viewed death as a vast separation from life. I grew up

I admit I am a walking, talking dichotomy. I am at once a woman who seeks adventure and craves travel, as well as a woman riddled with anxiety.  I have crossed many country borders in my travels and have had a few hiccups—like the time I was pulled aside, searched, and questioned for crossing the

After 488 days and 23,133 miles we have heard many questions from friends and family as well as strangers we’ve met along the way. I thought I’d take a few moments to answer some of those questions. We started living full time in our bus, Thomás, on May 1st. 2022, after three years of blood,

I gotta admit I was a little nervous about traveling to Florida, especially with the political climate and the fact that I had just finished reading When She Woke (a Handmaid’s Tale-esque novel), but the sun, the sea and the palms sang their siren song, and the wind blew us toward the Keys. So, with

“Can you do a flip?” asked the teenager in line for the rope swing behind my husband, who was the only person in the line over 20. “I’ll see what I can do.” came the response from the gray-haired, 63-year-old boy. I watched from a short distance folded like a taco inside my rented floating

“Don’t get murdered.” This was the sound advice I got from my cousin, Claudia when she heard we were going to New Orleans. *  *  * We had traveled from Arizona to New Orleans through Colorado, Utah, New Mexico, and Texas before rolling into NOLA.  We did have a few adventures in New Mexico at

“Arizona is a lie!” I yelled when I woke to sub-freezing temperatures after our first night in Flagstaff. “You’re the funniest girl I ever knew,” Kevin murmured with the gravely tone of sleep still in his voice. Now, I understand I am a bit geographically challenged—I thought Brussels was in Germany, for cryin’ out loud—but