Take Me Back
Thoughts on being drawn back to the same places
When there’s so much of the world to see, why would you ever want to go back to the same place twice?
As a little girl growing up in Kentucky, I traveled every summer with my grandparent’s to Daytona Beach, Florida.
Early on a summer morning, long before sunrise, Papaw would roll down the windows and lower the armrest between the front two seats of his Oldsmobile, fill the Igloo cooler and settle us in for the long car ride ahead. That armrest would soon become my perch for the 14-hour, 55mph (because that was the limit on highways in the 70s and 80s) annual trek towards experiencing our grandest holiday of the year.
Daytona Beach was the only beach I ever knew. And even as a kid, after years of the same beaten path, I memorized the road signs and came to expect certain experiences as tradition along the way.
Within the first two hours of the journey we would find ourselves in Nashville as the sun came up, and I was already asking the dreaded question, “are we there yet?” In Atlanta my grandfather would get anxious and grumpy at the traffic. By Valdosta, Georgia, we were searching for a roadside stand to purchase real Georgia peaches. At every gas station I would beg for watermelon Bubblicious and Cool Ranch Doritos while Papaw and Grandma would purchase their traditional treat of nougat and caramel rolled in Georgia pecans. Finally, the journey would turn to a quest for roadside oranges in Florida, and before we knew it, the salty ocean breeze, mixed with humidity and Doritos, would overwhelm and let us know that the beach wasn’t far away.
Roadside billboards of Mickey and Minnie and images of historic St. Augustine were tempting, but we were Daytona bound. These Kentucky folk were on a mission to experience seven glorious days of carefree, ocean-soaked, sand-covered and sunburned, beach bum living. It was predictable and it was so good.
The Only Beach
As an adult, I often think back to those summers with warm, fuzzy thoughts of childhood and grandparents and memories that made me.
I’ve also wondered many times, “why Daytona Beach? Why didn’t we ever go anywhere else?”
Now, as a traveler who has seen so many cool places in the US and the world, I sometimes feel sad that my grandparents never experienced anywhere else. The one path they chose to trek every year for decades was Kentucky to Nashville to Atlanta and Valdosta, towards Jacksonville and then follow the signs on I-95 to the beach.
The only beach.
But I think I’m starting to understand.
Take Me Back
It turns out that I have some “Daytona Beaches” that I dream of going back to again and again, too. Just like Grandma and Papaw probably laid in bed on a cold February evening dreaming of the Florida sunshine on their face, I too dream of returning to places that have my heart. With a whole world out there to explore, I too, want to return to the places I already know.
Because…
Travel changes us.
It transforms.
It renews. Travel re-centers and inspires.
It heals and has the power to make things right again, if only for a little while.
So naturally, when life happens in the middle of a snowy February freeze, I long for the places that once thawed my heart and soul and restored my life-breath so I could just. keep. going.
My Big Story has happened in the most unlikely places all over the world. From Daytona Beach to Westcliffe, Colorado. From Na Hoi, Vietnam, to Nerudova Street in Prague, Czechia…when I close my eyes or start dreaming of the next journey, these are often the places I wish to return.
The most difficult summer of my life happened in Westcliffe, Colorado, when I was 20 years old. Still, it was on this street where I learned to stand on my own two feet for the very first time. It was significant. I live in Colorado now and if I ever return to Westcliffe it feels like becoming reacquainted with an important chapter. Sometimes I just need to return and remember.
Sa’s House (homestay) in the most northern mountains of Vietnam forever holds a piece of my heart. I discovered myself in the world here. I found brave Amy here. My eyes opened to the wonder of the world here, year after year, inside of my mosquito net at 3am as the roosters faithfully woke me from my sleep. I can’t imagine returning to Vietnam and not staying in Na Hoi.
Nerudova Street, Prague, is the site of the most significant travel experience of my life. It’s where travel and faith collided inside of me for the very first time. It’s where Big Story Living began. This city saved me. (well, Jesus actually did that, but he sure did use this city to capture my attention) I followed my intuition there at a very difficult time and became swept up in its beauty and rhythm. Prague was my first solo adventure. It’s the place that formed in me the spiritual practice of travel. Prague held me. To this day, I struggle to create a European itinerary that does not include Prague. It forever has my heart.
And then there are other places in the world that are less formative and more just full of significant memories that I long to relive.
For example.
I’d return to Krakow tomorrow just for the brunch…
Ljubljana…just for the worlds best ice cream at Vigo
I’d return to Graz…for all things Christmas.
Florence…just for the Art Atelier hotel, staff and breakfast
Vienna calls, if only for the coffee and strudel at Café Central.
And Orvieto…just for the hope of another quiet evening stroll
Finally, London is worth it just for the fish and chips at St. James Café.
So I get it now. Grandma and Papaw weren’t so strange to return to Daytona Beach year after year after all.
I think Daytona captured their soul.
It healed them.
It restored.
That beach and the familiarity of the journey set something right.
It offered a new lease on life yet again.
I’m learning that once Jesus and joy surprises and re-centers us in a certain place, not much else can compare. And we will continue to be beckoned for just one more taste of its goodness.
Find Your Place
Join us in Europe for a 12-day women’s journey of open-handed exploration at the pace of Jesus. There are still four spots open. Maybe one of them has your name on it. Registration closes February 15.
Happy Travels,
Amy
One of your best posts! You have such insight into the call for your Big Story Living adventures and your passion for sharing it with others. I hope women will consider taking these journeys with you so they too can experience new places as well as discover Jesus in new and life changing ways.