I'm devouring Julia Child's My Life in France. It's a recipe for life! In it, she describes people's different approaches to traveling, and I whole-heartedly agree with her style.
On traveling through France and Italy with her parents: "I grew restless on those days of driving and driving and eating and driving and eating at the biggest-best restaurants and sleeping at the biggest-best hotels. To hell with it! It seemed like we'd never really been anywhere or done anything...In fact, I didn't like traveling first class at all. Yes, it was nice to have a bathroom in the hotel and fine service at breakfast, and I'd probably never visit those grand hotels again, but none of it seemed foreign enough to me. It was all so pleasantly bland that it felt as if I were back on the SS America. I don't like it when everyone speaks perfect English; I'd much rather struggle with my phrase book."
On traveling through France without her husband, Paul: "Paul and I liked to travel at the same slow pace. He always knew so much about things, discovered hidden wonders, noticed ancient walls or indigenous smells, and I missed his warm presence."
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Julia Child was one cool lady. The worst vacations are the ones where you're just checking things off a list. There's sort of a sense that you're observing yourself observing the sights, rather than losing yourself in the experience.
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