Harvey Travel Arts

In honor of our nation's upcoming Independence Day celebration, I give you Thomas Jefferson, the primary author of our Declaration of Independence.  The above photo is taken inside his monument in Washington DC.  Below is Jefferson's home, Monticello. It is said that the day before he died, Jefferson asked, "Is it the fourth yet?" He died hours later, on July 4, 1826, as did John Adams.

 It's hard to believe that almost a year has gone by since these pictures were taken.  My mother came for a visit in the fall of 2011, when Brian and I were still living in Germany (the second time around).  We took her to Rothenburg.  It's a small town, where Christmas seems to be a year-round event, but there is a lot of charm and history to be seen. These photos are of a bridge and some of the walls that are left to explore.  There isn't much left of them today, but they are fun to walk through and imagine different times in the city's history.  There are a lot of beautiful photo ops, too.  I recommend this little town if you're driving through Germany and want a quiet afternoon that is off the beaten path.

Sometimes I wish I could just jet to Paris for the day.  Really.  Brian and I have been quite a few times and have seen most of the touristy places we want to see. But to spend a day or two strolling the busy streets, enjoying baguettes, crepes with Nutella, and other tasty treats, visiting art that we can't get enough of: that would be a relaxing day.  It is also amusing to come across places like "Fajitas".  As a native Texan, I would not eat at a Mexican restaurant in Paris.  Most of my experiences with Mexican food in Europe have been weird.  Things like roast beef and carrots in fajitas. Broccoli.  The food is usually okay tasting, but not the flavors one expects. Then there's "Les Deux Magots" which makes the immature kid inside of me laugh.  This place actually has a history with former frequent patrons such as Picasso and Hemingway.  So what are you waiting for?  Just hop in your personal jet for a weekend in Paris...Oh, wait....    

I just think that living in a little village of winding steps, flat roofs, decks, hills and clear skies might be an adventure.  Imagine waking every morning, opening the shades to take in a sleepy little town where no one else was stirring, existing peacefully in that moment of calm, sipping your tea or whatever it is you prefer.  Listening to the ocean, watching the shopkeepers roll up their doors, opening stores, restaurants with pitchers of water, cafes with old men, their stories and reliving past memories.  Just a few more minutes of peace before a little chaos called a cruise ship comes in, soon the streets flocked with tourists wearing their hats, sunglasses, sandals, women in white cotton sundresses, men in shorts, t-shirts and leather flip-flops.  They'll stop by, pick up some jewelry, a few kitschy souvenirs, maybe something beautiful to be shipped back home. They'll tour the chapels, taste the wine, get some sun, enjoy a salad with feta, tomatoes, cucumbers and