Ready Wander One
Next week, after a month or so luxuriating in the bounty of America and the unconditional love of my family at my parents’ house on Long Island, I will be setting off on my first adventure: a two-week solo road trip to Florida, with stops in the D.C. area, the Smoky Mountains National Park, Charleston, Savannah, Tampa, and of course, West Palm Beach.
It will be a trip of many firsts, and I’m excited and nervous, which seem to me an appropriate pair of emotions. I’m looking forward to a lot of self-discovery (“How would Abra react to getting a flat in the middle of nowhere?” “What would Abra do if confronted by a bear?” “What if slow-talking Trump supporters in Georgia awaken homicidal impulses in Abra’s brain?”), a lot of amazement at gorgeous scenery, probably an equal amount of frustration at not having a traveling buddy to whom I can express that amazement, some boredom in random motels, much delight at seeing new places, curiosity at southern Shabbat customs, hunger for food that doesn’t come in packages, bursts of patriotism and love of country, and untold relief when I roll up to my Nana’s retirement community condo in WPB at the end of the journey.
And along with all of that, dozens more of emotions and experiences that I can’t begin to anticipate. Which is what makes this so exciting. And nerve-wracking.