Dreams up a perfect place of Italian food, English gardens, prairie fires, and tropical breezes

Adventures can't last forever, or they'd turn into homes... I've walked a mosaic sidewalk all the way up to a secret garden's dirt path that'll plunge to my neighborhood red tiles and then to the great lake sidewalks of jazzy concrete...

My European Grand Tour will soon end... I need to tell more of England...but I foresee some retrospective summer entries (if that's okay). It'll be nice to reminisce. I've been keeping journals too.

The burden (and blessing) of traveling is that I can create in my mind a personal paradise, compiled of everywhere I've been--lacking the problems--and filled with each place's appeal. The Volpis, piazzas, pasta and verdure would be there along with family and friends from home (and CCC). Knox would be superimposed in the environment, implanted onto the map along with Hyde and Kensington, and the Southbank...

So I carry all these places in a messenger bag made of Italian leather with a Union Jack patch on the front, my US passport inside and memories of home and school.