Come July, I will be teaching a travel writing course in Rome. This afternoon I take off for a pre-study tour vacation, and by this time tomorrow I will be touching down in Nice, France.
Right now, though, I've got the airport jitters. I always get them; they're part of the travel experience for me. They are partially born of my fear of flying and partially of my conviction (sometimes true!) that I must have forgotten to pack some really important item that I can't live without.
They're also spun out of my worries that the guys I've left back home holding down the fort will forget to feed the guinea pig or let the dogs out or turn the stove burners off.
But, as always, my travel jitters are mostly from excitement--so I've learned to embrace them.
It wouldn't be a true adventure if it didn't start with that feeling of the earth spinning so quickly under my feet that I have to work to keep from flying off into space.