Searching for a weekend getaway

Once I wrote a magazine article (#585magazine) about how to go about finding a place for a quick weekend getaway. It was based on a game that my husband and I play.

It's simple. Pull out a map of your state or region - you still have one of those, don't you? - and draw a circle in a radius of say 100 or 150 miles from home.

Close your eyes, point your finger and land on an area with a nearby town of city.

That's where you are going. No fudging. No second chances.

What? There's nothing to do there you are telling me. It won't work. Besides, it IS too much like work. It's suppose to be a vacation.

Here's the thing. It is up to you to figure out how to make it a special weekend.

You may be in luck and there is a concert or festival nearby, which could keep you busy for hours.

On top of that, you will hone your travel skills on a small scale, practice making reservations, finding day trips and searching for goodness right in front of your eyes. You might, or might not need to spend much money either.

On one of our excursions we found a town in Pennsylvania - Wellsboro, to be exact - that had delightful streets for walking by historical homes and dining in fine restaurants, "the Grand Canyon of the East" park, which in itself is quite a sight, and friendly people willing to talk about their place in the world at the weekly farmers' market.

Once in awhile you need to shake-up your travel.

Hint: Look for the gardens and greenhouses.

Celebrating mothers around the world

One of the cherished moments when traveling is meeting mothers and reflecting upon how we all share similar desires for our families. The world comes closer through those conversations.

Once in #Croatia a mother told me the horrifying story of running from home clutching her children and worldy possessions in a couple plastic bags minutes before the Serbs came descending upon the town. She pointed to bullet holes in the walls still evident years later.

Her family gathered round her at the dining room table while she talked in halting English which I understood, and although I listened to the story, I had no idea of what this mother had endured. Perhaps, her serene presence and her loving children were the answer.

Eyeing ruins in Morocco

How well I remember that October morning in #Chellah early into my three week stay for its power to transport me back to an earlier time and slow my pace corresponding to those living around me. There was a feel to it, and I couldn't get my head wrapped around it either. My senses were on high alert at this point and I was doing my best taking in everything from the call to worship blaring from the loudspeaker at the mosque to the elderly wrinkled man hobbling alongside his donkey loaded with sticks of wood for his fire pit.

Little did I know then that the desert experience would change me forever.

Under the expertise of a local guide, I gathered as much information as possible before my eyes started to roam. There were more angles in an ancient ruin to keep a serious photographer busy for hours, and I had to settle for a few pictures. Fortunately, I was there before the sun was too high ruining the opportunity. This site was out of the way and overlooked by tourists giving me free range using my cellphone.

Chellah a medieval fortified Muslim necropolis located in the metro area of #Rabat, #Morocco. The #Phoenicians established a trading emporium at the site. This was later the site of an ancient Roman colony.