They told us it would take months, if not a year, to readjust to life after a journey around the world. Nine months and 26 days later, I can attest: They. Were. Right.

Last week marked the two year anniversary of our departure for our 14-month around the world journey. If I didn’t know it then, I certainly know it now. Life as we knew it would never be the same. While we’ve spent a good part of 2011 putting our travels aside, planting some roots and focusing on the next chapter of our life back Stateside, the truth is it doesn’t quite work that way. Our travels, and lessons learned on the road, have become a part of our daily lives.

We now have a place to call home. Our packs collect dust on our basement floor and no one-way transcontinental ticket sits folded up in our back pocket. But we’re finding ourselves re-inspired to share our stories, your stories…of those travel moments that define us.

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This gust of re-inspiration to dream up our next adventure and immerse ourselves in our travels once again comes primarily from a grassroots campaign called Meet Plan Go! (founded by fellow travel bloggers and adventurers Sherry Ott and Michaela Potter). We were invited to speak last week at Meet Plan Go!’s national lecture series. The travel seminar, whose mission is to put a career break on every resume, was held simultaneously in 17 cities across the country. From Honolulu to New York and several places in between, travelers gathered to share their stories and inspire others to hit the road. At home in Chicago, we were joined by a panel of like-minded travelers: Dave Nilson who just returned from a year and half jaunt across the globe, Katy Healy fresh off the road from a six month global sojourn and Keith Savage, who spends a good part of the year exploring the highlands and lowlands of Scotland. To add to the mix, we even had a panelist Skype in from her hotel room in Russia.

As we shared tales and tips from our global journeys, 100 wander-lustful faces, in search of their own adventures, stared back at us. For the first time in a long time, we weren’t the ‘crazy ones.’ Surrounded by travelers in a cooking school auditorium overlooking a misty Chicago skyline, I was brought back to the moments when rehashing travel tales with like-minded friends was a daily ritual… I’m on a sun-kissed Rajasthani rooftop sharing a piping hot pot of masala chai with a family of stranger-cum-friends. Under the waning moon and bright-starry night, I’m sipping on kava in the company of some wanderlust souls. I’m cooking up a braii of burgers with pairs of safari sun-burnt faces amidst the snorting sound of hippos calling. I’m in a buzzing tree-lined alleyway sipping on frosty Tsingtao beers with a slew of perpetual travelers. I’m snacking on yak cheese bread with a team of global nomads under a tin roof pummeled by the Himalayan rains…A thousand miles away, I feel at home.

We spent a good half of our around the world journey trying to explain to others why Americans don’t travel. We battled the typical “Only 10 percent of Americans have passports?” questions and frequent befuddled faces after revealing our US citizenship and long-term travel plans. After leaving this year’s Meet Plan Go! event, however, I was hopeful. 1200 attendees across the country with dreams of traveling the world? Perhaps the time is just around the corner when excuses will lay to rest.

As Steve Jobs put it: “Here’s to the crazy ones.”

Soaking up December rays on the island of Zanzibar

One month to the day later, I’m on a train headed north, back on the road again to conclude that journey home. Traversing the snow-kissed plains of “Middle America,” it’s the final stretch. We’re headed back to that Windy City, the place we once called home.

There’s something contemplative about train travel. The bellowing whistle and rhythmic cadence of clanking wheels singing along a steel track seem to put me in a trance. I find myself lost in thought, reflecting on the past month of my life and the uncertainty of the road ahead.

Home sweet home dressed for the holidays

Our homecoming has been many things, but at all times full of emotion. Arriving on the Eve of the Eve, we were flung full-throttle into the Christmas spirit. Stockings were hung by the chimney with care. Ceramic snowmen platters overflowed with goodies while Santa trays housed sausage puffs, crab dip and cheese balls. Bing Crosby belted out classics over the sound of a roaring fire and our parents’ homes were filled with cheery faces offering a warm welcome to their “world travelers.”

In the chaos of the holiday season, we had dinner parties and holiday dates galore. Catching up with familiar faces became a full time job. Our once dutiful packs now took reclining position on the basement floor as we tapped into our former selves. Dressing the part, we clad ourselves in spiffed-up leather shoes and holiday sweaters with toffee and Brandy Alexanders in hand. Acting out the scenes storybooks are made of, it was a truly white Christmas…the kind days before was a world away.

It didn’t hit me the first day we came home…nor the second, nor the third. The grand realization of the power of our journey, it has come to me in waves.

The first taste hit me like a ton of bricks. Walking into my pseudo room of my parents’ cozy suburban home, I pulled out the boxes of me I had left behind. Sunglass cases and lip gloss, heels and leggings, robes and jewelry, I was staring at a life I no longer recognized. Running my hands over piles of clothing, the cotton felt like cashmere and polyester like silk, as tears trickled down my face. And no, I recognized, these weren’t tears of joy, but rather tears of shame. Not a shame rooted in having the things that make up our comfortable lifestyles but for so long having taken this life for granted.

The comfort of our lives continued to amaze me. No longer did I go running earnestly to the clothing line when gray clouds starting to roll in. After months of hand-washing clothes in puny African buckets, the novelty of a washer and dryer left me speechless. Or how about taking a glass from the cabinet and running it under a flowing faucet of potable water? Doing it again made me plain giddy. And then there’s the reliable hot shower. I turn on the knob and boom goes the dynamite! There’s no half hour wait or crossing fingers it works. Hot water rushes out without fail. Weeks later I still find it remarkable.

Scenic run along the Seine

Back to the gym after a year and a half sojourn, now that was eye-opening. The flashing red lights of my treadmill twinkled under suspended rows of flat screen TV’s. Gym mates were glued to a spectacle of talking heads while iPhones sang and rang to them. As the soundtrack from my year played in my ear buds, I thought back on the last time I laced up these shoes. From the dusty roads of Central Africa to the sweaty locker room of 24 Hour Fitness, I could hardly believe my eyes.

A visit to the American grocery store, however, tops the chart for most awe-inspiring homecoming experiences. Shelves teem with plump strawberries and blueberries in the dead of winter and offer cereal bars, energy bars, fiber bars and any darn bar your heart desires. There are 20 kinds of peanut butter to choose from and umpteen loaves of bread that promise to last for a month. Canned foods offer ethnic cuisine from every corner of the globe and meat cases overflow with enough juicy goodness to feed the entire population of Zambia for a month. This was enough to make my head spin and my stomach as well. As sick as my body got adjusting to the curries of India and “delicacies” of China, it hardly compares to the protest my body staged upon returning to good ole American cuisine.

A pensive mood back in Brazil with the whole journey ahead of us

Returning, I feel I’ve undergone some sort of reawakening. Once meaningless tasks, like chores and errands, these are now novel. Yes, a run to Best Buy or stop at the gym, these have become exciting outings. But best of all, once simple encounters with family – like coffee around the kitchen counter with my pop or cleaning out the basement with my mom – these moments are treasured.

To tell you the truth, I feel like George Bailey in It’s A Wonderful Life. Clarence paid me a visit, only instead of saving me from the bridge, he saved me from the humdrum of my mundane corporate American existence. No, life wasn’t bad before. It’s now just rich.

The cookie tray has thinned now and the holiday bows have been put away. Friends have gone back to work. Rush hour traffic has ensued. A job search sits at our door, and we’re faced with the uncertainty of the road ahead.

Bumping into each other over PJ’s and morning coffee is our daily reminder that we relinquished the once status and stability of our corporate lifestyles. There are days when this fills me with anxiety, when I thirst for the answer to the question, “What am I doing with my life?” There are days when temptation seeps in, and the desire for structure, routine and a reliable salary entice me.

But a glance at our room, flooded with guidebooks, photos and memories, brings it all back. Suddenly that feeling of “unsettled,” and the tension and fears that come along with it, don’t seem so overwhelming. It’s then we say aloud with conviction that we’ve been changed.

In our search for home, one thing is certain: Life won’t be what it was. Those leather shoes didn’t fit well anyway.

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“Round We Go” was about living the life we imagined. We are searching for the way…our way…to bring that back home. We still have a few more photos and stories up our sleeves from the final leg of our trip and plan to share those, too. In the meantime we want to thank you for following our journey. Many days we felt we were writing just for ourselves, to document this trip of a lifetime. Discovering along the way that these stories might have meant something to someone else touched us deeply. Thanks for coming along for the ride!

A beautiful face welcomes us at the Tenikwa Wild Cat Center

There’s little debate that wildlife is Africa’s main attraction. With nearly two weeks since stepping foot on the continent and no more than a few baboons and bird sightings, we were due. It was time to step it up a notch with an up close and personal encounter with South Africa’s wild cats.

On our journey down the Garden Route we learned of a unique experience at the Tenikwa Wild Cat Activity Park. The park is dedicated to taking in injured cats of all shapes and sizes to nurse them back to health. Those that are prepared to return to the bush are released back into the wild.

Putting a special emphasis on cheetahs, the park rangers make long walks with these magnificent cats a daily priority. At sunrise and sunset they walk these cats through the surrounding dense forests to give them a chance to get much needed exercise. They now allow visitors to the park to share in the experience, and it was an opportunity we would not pass up.

Meeting our girl Tandy for a walk in the woods

Arriving to the park on a misty spring morning, we were greeted with freshly baked scones and piping hot coffee before meeting our furry friends. Just outside, brother and sister Tandy and Shockra awaited us. When we caught our first sight of them, we were awe-struck with how just how beautiful they were. They also seemed much bigger, taller and brawnier than expected. Upon entering their man-made den, we could hear the rumbling roar of their purr and were quite hesitant when given the okay to run our fingers through their fur. Cautiously extending our hands into their hay-like hair, we were surprised to find the coarse spots on their coat actually raised above the rest of the fur.

Gracefully spotted body of the cheetah

Don't fear, this cheetah is just taking a yawn

The park is home to five cheetahs with Tandy and Shockra the youngest at 22 months. These cheetahs weren’t rescued directly from the wild but from other game reserves where they had plenty of human contact. Though there was no doubt they were wild cats, their upbringing ensured they were much more docile than many of their feral relatives.

Cautiously buddying up to Tandy the cheetah

We learned all about the beautiful animals with whom we’d be spending our day. The cheetah is the fastest animal on land, however, in recent years has become critically endangered. Its timid ways, non-confrontational demeanor and picky eating habits have all affected its survival. Unlike most cats which are nocturnal, the cheetah hunts during the day. They typically hunt at sunrise and sunset in open plains where they can use their speed to run down predators. We were surprised to learn that while the cheetah is fast, endurance isn’t their strong point. They can reach 60 miles an hour in three seconds flat, however, can only hold the speed for thirty seconds before needing a half hour to recover.

Another interesting factoid we learned about the cheetah is the function of the distinctive black “tear” running from their inner eye down to their mouth. This actually works much like sunglasses do for humans, blocking the sun from the cheetahs’ eyes, thus allowing them to hunt during the day.

Sunrise walk with our cheetah Tandy through the forest

After a brief introduction, we set out to begin our sunrise walk. The cheetahs were strapped into a small harness with leash attached and soon we were on our way. We were instructed to hold the leash and walk behind the cheetah, letting our Tandy lead the way. Should Tandy take off running, which she did several times, we were instructed to drop the leash. Of course there was no way we could compete with this kind of speed.

We were also told, for good reason, they don’t allow small children in the park. With children the size of their prey, cheetahs feel they can dominate them and may opt to take advantage. At my petite size, I learned this first-hand. Accidentally stepping in front of Tandy’s path, she closed in, wrapping her front paw tightly around my leg. Though I was soon freed, it certainly gave me a good scare.

The lack of endurance in the cheetahs was certainly evident. Tandy tired fast and plopped down several times, seemingly unwilling to take a step further. A few water breaks and toss of a soccer ball helped to get her going again as we lead her back to her home. Here she and her brother were delighted to find raw chicken awaiting them and within seconds they had torn into it and gobbled it down.

What a surreal feeling it was walking through the forest with a cheetah by my side and during our hour walk, this feeling never got old. I didn’t want this experience to come to an end, but it was time to say goodbye to our cheetah friends.

After quite a memorable morning, we were off to meet some other wild cats.

The petite-sized, spotted serval

Next up was the spotted serval. It’s almost as elusive as the leopard, but a much smaller cat. It has large, bat-like ears and has a distinctive hunting style of using high leaps to pounce on prey. Entering serval land the little guy welcomed his visitors by jumping up in the air in excitement, and we got a chance to see the leaping bounds this cat is known for.

Our visit with the small but aggressive caracals

We closed this special morning with a visit with two caracals. The small cats have a brown coat and big, pointed ears. Though small and size, the father and son duo we met were a bit more aggressive than the other cats so we were warned to watch our backs when entering their den. Hard to believe these little guys, just larger than your typical domestic cat, could do any damage but we weren’t going to test our luck.

What a morning it was getting to know some of the many wild cats that walk this land. We left even more anxious to meet again out in the wild.

Road trippin' it down South Africa's Garden Route

Arming ourselves with some wheels, we took off from Cape Town with our pals Greg and Ashley for a proper road trip along the acclaimed Garden Route. Our journey commenced in picturesque Hermanus Bay.

Whale-Studded Shores in Hermanus Bay

Our charming digs in Hermanus Bay

The town of shake-shingled cottages with thick slated-roofs overlooking a rocky shoreline of crashing waves was straight out of a New England dream. We settled into a delightful little B&B on the Atlantic shores and the intricately hand-carved furniture and African accents were the only thing reminding me I was far away from home. While our adventure hungry pals, Greg and Ashley, set off to organize a cage swim with Great White Sharks (check out their blog for stories on this adventure!), I tended to my wifely duties. Ryan was suffering from a bad case of food poisoning – South African style – from the ostrich burger he mowed down the night before. Between caring for my sickling, I soaked up views from the balcony of our room of the sun setting over the dramatic coastline line.

Whale-watching on the shores of Hermanus Bay

With the ‘bird flu’ behind us, we had the following day to enjoy Hermanus Bay. We were more than pleased with our charming digs and the coastal scenery, but what had drawn us here could be found along the water’s edge. We’d arrived in October, peak whale-watching season, to watch the massive water beasts put on their show. To our delight, a fleet of enormous fins poked out of the water followed by a stream of rolling, colossal bellies revealing themselves amidst breaking waves.

A Taste of the Wilderness

Canoeing through Wilderness Wildlife Reserve

Next up was the eponymously named town of Wilderness . Here we found ourselves in the midst of – you guessed it – the wilderness. Surrounded by dense forests, deep ravines and rippling streams, the area is any outdoor enthusiast’s paradise. With little time on our side, we had to forgo the variety of nature hikes encircling the area and opted for a day on the water. Saddling up on canoes we spent a leisurely afternoon paddling our way to the waterfalls of Wilderness Wildlife Reserve. Paying proper adieu to the day, we then watched the sunset from the white-sandy beaches of Wilderness Bay with a bottle of cheap wine and block of cheese in hand.

Enjoying sunset with friends over Wilderness Bay

The unexpected highlight, however, of Wilderness was a visit to a hobo camp on the outskirts of town. Our buddy Greg had gotten word of this remote encampment from a fellow traveler and was adamant we pay a visit. To my surprise, it did not disappoint. Following deserted train tracks around the side of the mountain, we walked through a long tunnel. This lead us to an enormous cave with unparalleled views of the rocky coastline. We immediately recognized this was no ordinary cave and were soon greeted by cautious hellos from the cave’s inhabitants. The cave is called home by thirteen homeless people and on a brief tour conducted by the mastermind of this eccentric ‘residence’ we learned it was unlike any place we’d ever seen.

View inside the Hobo Camp in Wilderness

Entering the cave I felt as if I were walking into a Tim Burton film. Proudly leading us through his whimsical home, our dutiful guide explained how each ‘room’ had been constructed out of various relics found on the shoreline or around town. In reality this group of hobos had simply taken others’ rubbish and used it to create a residential masterpiece. In the three years of occupying the cave, they had skillfully crafted a beautiful home. Old mops and brooms were converted into ornate bed posts and vases. Fanciful strands of seashells strung together with fishing line magically hung from the cave ceiling and elaborate chandeliers made of pebbles and rocks look fit for a spread in Better Homes & Gardens. It was sheer genius.

Great New Heights in Storm’s River

Ryan preparing to take the plunge off of Boulkrans Bridge

On the eastern edge of the Garden Route, Ryan chalked up another one on the adventure list: bungee jumping from the highest jump on the planet. Located near the town of Storm’s River is the towering Balkans Bridge standing proudly over a deep ravine. It’s become the place for adrenaline junkies looking to take the plunge and claiming to have highest bungee jump in the world, my superlative-seeking husband wanted in.

About to make the jump off the highest bungee jump in the world

After getting strapped into his gear and getting an earful from me on how stupid I thought it was, he braved his way to the center of the bridge and made the jump. Standing a football field away, it was quite unsettling watching him make the jump and witnessing his flailing body suspended in the air hundreds of feet above earth. After confirming it was the most terrifying moment of his life, I crossed my fingers hoping it might be the last.

Ryan makes the jump at 708 feet above the earth

From pristine coastlines and whale-studded shores to cascading waterfalls and hobo camps, the Garden Route was a special place. And this was just the beginning. Standing out from our Garden Route journey were the wildlife encounters to come. Graceful cheetahs and fierce ostriches awaited us on our journey and wet our palette for the host of African wildlife adventures to come.

Exclusive suburbs of Cape Town enjoy spectacular coastal scenery

Surrounded by mountains, gorgeous beaches and diverse flora and fauna, I do concur: Cape Town is home to one of the world’s most stunning settings. And its privileged location isn’t its only claim to fame. Where mountains meet the sea, the multi-ethnic Capetonians also enjoy a lively cultural scene. Colorful architecture, diverse restaurants and trendy boutiques (all with a unique ethnic flare) make this city worth a visit. But it’s what lies beyond the city limits that give this cosmopolitan melting pot its well-deserved pride.

We got ourselves some wheels and were now free to explore all the Cape area had to offer. Hemmed in by the Atlantic Ocean and False Bay, we soon discovered the Cape Peninsula Loop is one of the most stunning drives in the world. Just south of Cape Town, this area boasts magnificent scenery, quaint fishing villages, beautiful beaches and lovely vineyards, making it the place to uncover the real beauty of South Africa.

Our journey began just outside of Cape Town in sophisticated Camps Bay where Capetonians sip iced lattes under the shaded umbrellas of seaside cafes. Next up was the surfers’ paradise known as Llandudno Beach. The water along this particularly beautiful stretch of sand are renowned for having some of the best surfing in the area. Although we didn’t try our luck on riding the waves, admiring the perfect swells and sinking our toes in the soft-sand made this an idyllic pit stop.

View of beautiful Hout Bay just outside of Cape Town, South Africa

As the drive continued so did the coastal beauty. With each turn, the scenery grew more dramatic. Mountains became more precipitous and waters more blue. Each bay we passed could only be rivaled by the next. Soon we came upon Boulder Bay in Table Mountain National Park where hundreds of African penguins call home. Down at the beach we watched as penguins waddled by us, out of frigid waters to bask under the hot sun.

African Penguins bask in the sun on the shore at Boulder Bay

Waddling penguins take to the beach in Boulder Bay

Our final stop for the day was the Cape of Good Hope. Also inside Table Mountain National Park, we learned this is a must-see for anyone visiting the area. The Cape makes up the tip of the most southwestern point of the African continent and the scenery here is really spectacular – definitely the culmination of our day and perhaps the most beautiful area in all of coastal South Africa. Here the Atlantic Ocean meets the Indian Ocean and a rocky peninsula jets out into water stretching as far as they eye can see. When not dodging baboons who frequent this area of the park, we took our time taking in the fantastic views.

With friends at the Cape of Good Hope

The road to the Cape of Good Hope, South Africa

In the distance, the mountainous coastal road that brought us here looked almost ethereal, as we stood on what felt like the edge of the world. It was one heck of a drive and was certainly the Cape experience we were after.

The city skyline of Cape Town, South Africa

It was time to leave behind Europe. We were hitting the road again, moving on to our fifth continent and final stop: the Mother Continent of Africa.

Boarding a southbound, transcontinental flight, we said ciao to Roma and touched down in Cairo, before planting our feet in the continent’s most southerly city. It was destination Cape Town, South Africa.

For our African adventure, we were giving ourselves three months to make the journey from Cape Town to Nairobi, Kenya. To kick off this final leg of the trip we reunited with our fellow around the world travel friends, Greg and Ashley. Coincidentally, these Chicago pals of ours embarked on a similar journey this year, and we’ve been fortunate enough to meet up with them several times along the way. On our fifth and final continent we were together again to take in the splendor of Cape Town and tackle South Africa’s famed coastal road: the Garden Route.

Victorian-era buildings line Cape Town's colorful Long Street

With a handful of days to spend in the affectionately named “Mother City” of Cape Town, we took our time soaking up the many attractions. Walking our way along the Atlantic coast, we enjoyed spectacular scenery of white sandy beaches and Antarctic winds that nearly knocked us off our feet. Jouneying over to the city harbor, known as the V&A Waterfront, we found tug boats and sailboats splashing along the docks beside masses of shops, restaurants and pubs geared towards tourists like ourselves. It was in the City Bowl, however, along bustling Long Street, that we found all the action. Victorian-era buildings welcomed us with wrought iron balconies, and a plethora of second-hand bookstores and cafes. By night we were back on the main drag of Long Street, diving into its thriving culinary scene. Where Cuban cafes and gourmet burger bars sit beside Mexican eateries and stylish sushi joints, there was no lack of gastronomical diversity to suit these pallets.

It was no coincidence that the Cape Town Marathon was taking place during our visit. After making our city rounds, it was time for Ryan to take to the streets. In his goal to run around the world, Ryan has set out to run a marathon on all seven continents. His stellar performance in the Cape Town Marathon takes him one step closer to this goal. With Africa under his belt, it’s four continents down and three to go. Bravo, Ryan!

Ryan completes his seventh marathon in Cape Town

Cape Town Marathon bib number and medal

With the race behind us, we were off to tackle Cape Town’s main attraction: the flat-topped Table Mountain dominating the city skyline. We were waiting for that perfect day to ascend the iconic mountain, and it just wasn’t happening. Weather in Cape Town is more than iffy and, on more than one occasion, we experienced all four seasons in a single day. On our final day, the weather did finally break, however, upon arrival our dreams were crushed. The cable car was suspended due to high winds, and we were strongly advised not to make the hike with a series of recent muggings on the mountain at this time of day. Two things were certain: we were definitely in Africa and we wouldn’t be seeing the top of this mountain.

View of the iconic Table Mountain from V&A Waterfront

Aside from missing out on the quintessential Table Mountain experience, I must admit, in Cape Town I expected a bit more. This city gets a lot of hype, and while I enjoyed my stay, there wasn’t anything really pulling at me here. I was itching to find that vibrant flare I always associated with the Rainbow Nation of South Africa.

On our journey south, however, to the outskirts of Cape Town, I learned this Cape does pack a big punch. Check out our journey here.

Our location in Italy along the northern lakes meant we were a hop, skip and a jump away from its serene, green, pristine neighbor. Yes Switzerland lies just an hour away from our Italian abode and my parents agreed: we simply had to take advantage.

Winding our way around Lago Maggiore, the scenery began to change. Posh villas were replaced by wooden huts with brilliantly-colored shudders and window boxes overflowing with geraniums. Where the Alps once hugged Italian lake shores, they now embraced rolling green hills of impossibly perfect pastoral landscapes. “Ooing” and “ahhing” at every turn, we took pleasure in admiring the sprawling pine forests and meadows while snow-capped peaks towered high above.

I imagined Switzerland would be picture perfect, but nothing, not even The Sound of Music, could have prepared me for this kind of beauty. My mom said it best: “We are walking into a nursery rhyme.”

High in the Swiss Alps we got our first taste of Switzerland over heaping portions of apple and blueberry pies. What started sweet, just got sweeter. We were en route to Zermatt. The little hamlet is built into the slopes of the mountains below the famed Matterhorn. People come from all over the world to ski, hike, summit or simply get a glimpse of this precipitous mountain peaking out of the clouds and rising high above the rest. We were here to do the same while soaking up all the Swiss culture we could get.

Cars aren’t allowed in the pedestrian-only town of Zermatt so we arrived to the mountain hamelet in a bright, red train, cutting through the mountains at the speed of lightning. This was our firt experience with Swiss efficiency. Everything is run like a well-oiled, ‘cheery’ machine, and it’s so clean you can literally eat off the train station floors. Here we were also introduced to the outrageous cost of travel in Switzerland. The mere 15 minute train ride cost a whopping $40 per person! When we learned the price of hotels and dinner out on the town, we knew we wouldn’t be coming back any time soon. Time to soak up every moment we have!

Arriving in the main square of Zermatt we were greted by the neighing whispers and clicking of horse hooves towing well-heeled travelers by carriage to their Zermatt digs. We found our home at a quaint little chalet and from our balcony of our room, we laid our eyes on the prize. There, staring us in the face, was the Matterhorn herself. Like icing on a cake, we saw her peak was topped with a dusting of fresh snow as she revealed herself against a brilliant blue sky.

Taking a brief sojourn from our budget travel days, Ryan and I felt like two kids in a candy store. I wanted to jump on the bed, yodel from the balcony and rob the mini bar. Thanks to mom and pop, we were living high on the hog!

And after so long on the road, Ryan and I hardly recognized each other. We’d put in requests for a few ‘creature comforts’ prior to my parents arrival and were now basking in this new-found glory. I was now armed with a hair dryer to tame my unruly mane and even a pair of jeans, which hadn’t made the packing list cut. Ryan, too, got a little wardrobe upgrade for the occasion and we were feeling quite sharp from our Swiss-style makeover.

Switzerland was decadent and my parents succeeded in spoiling us silly. When we weren’t indulging in a hot pot of cheesy fondue, nibbling on decadent Swiss chocolate or diving into a fabulous dinner of venison or lamb, we were on the move. We took the gondola known as the Matterhorn Express up to the very top of the mountain to the base of the Matterhorn. On this clearest of days, we looked out over a panorama of snow-capped peaks for as far as the eye could see. We were told we were actually seeing 37 peaks with an altitude of over 12,000 feet. I’m no mountaineer, but I can tell you the view was awe-inspiring.

Once on top, we tackled the Matterhorn Trail. The trek was a full day of hiking through incredible Alpine scenery and had us descending on picturesque Zermatt just as the sun was setting.

There are some days so special you know you’ll remember them the rest of your life. Trekking through the Swiss Alps with my parents and Ryan beside me, today was one of those days.

We met a man who lives by a simple travel rule: pick a destination and give yourself a 200 mile radius from which to explore. After our recent slow travel visit to the northern lakes of Italy, we couldn’t agree more.

With many a months on the road under our belt and my parents by my side, these two weary travelers were quite content slowing down the pace and handing over the travel torch. Basing ourselves in the village of Lesa, my dad became our dutiful guide. On an Italian lakeside odyssey, we discovered the alluvial charm of Italy’s best kept secret: the great northern lakes.

Maggiore’s Small Town Sophistication

With our home base, Casa Sue, resting along the forested shores of Lago Maggiore, we got to know this glorious lake rather well. An hour north of Milan and the Swiss border to the east, Maggiore is the second largest lake in Italy. Sitting on the edge of the Alps, Maggiore boasts heavenly alpine scenery studded with enchanting lakeside villages.

It was sophisticated Stresa that caught our eye. Opting for opulence, we took an afternoon stroll along Stresa’s lakefront where we gawked at posh villas and poked into its gracefully decadent hotels. With cocktail in hand, we pretended to be part of the generations of exclusivity that surely graced these halls. Admiring marble steps, ornate chandeliers and gold-framed furniture, we discovered the kind of worldly wisdom and moneyed elegance of a bygone era. The history and natural grandeur of Stresa had arranged it to perfection.

It was the quaint villages of Maggiore, however, that captivated our hearts. On our daily rounds to bread and cheese shops in the villages of Lesa and Meina we grew to know and love small town Italy. Fumbling over words and signing food orders, there was hardly a word in common yet I could tell it was the kind of place I could put down my roots. We’d ventured into that place where strangers become friends, where “everybody knows your name” and where only that kind of down-to-earth , gentle spirit can survive. This was the Lago Maggiore for me.

Mist and Devotion on Lake Orta

The splendor of Lake Orta has an untouched innocence. Just a half hour away from our home on Maggiore, we arrived to a morning mist revealing the quiet beauty of the lake. On the water’s edge, we discovered the unspoiled hamlet of Orta with its cream-colored houses topped with thick slates. After stopping in a cozy wine cafe for lunch, we wound through the tight cobblestone alleyways to the magnetic central square. From here we caught our first view of the star of the show: San Giulio island.

We grabbed one of the water taxis docked on the piazza and took the boat over to the picturesque island. On our visit to the island of devotion, we visited a Benedictine monastery and passed the privileged villas that hug the shore. Wandering down the stone pathway known as “The Way of Silence” we wrapped our way around the island, enjoying these precious moments far away from the frenzied Italian tourist trail.

Swish, Swash: Lake Como

Lake Como probably rings a bell. A regular on the glossy pages of the tabloids, it’s home to the opulent villas of Italy’s elite and mega-superstars, including, of course, George Clooney. While our visit to Lake Como didn’t include a stopover at Mr. Clooney’s lavish abode, our time on Lake Como was nonetheless luxurious.

We began our visit on the southern edge of the lake in the town of Como. Over cappuccinos and espressos at a lakeside café, we immediately recognized why this area gets all the hype. Lake Como is breathtaking. The midnight blue water is enclosed by lush, precipitous mountains on all sides. Colorful villas cascade down the mountains while white Chris Craft boats cut through the water like glass.

Winding our way around the slender lake, we passed scenic villages built into the wooded lakeside slopes until reaching the village of Bellagio. Ringed by gardens and forests and overlooking azure-hued Lake Como, Bellagio sits pretty in a large inlet on the western shore of the lake. Waterfront promenades, upscale boutiques and swish hotels dripping in décor provide an appropriately extravagant setting for enjoying this jewel.

And to no surprise, the food fit the bill. In Bellagio we enjoyed a three course lunch consisting of smoked goose breast served over sliced apples and topped with aged balsamic followed by Sardinian dumplings in a sausage ragu. Simply decadent as Lake Como should be.

This year of travel would certainly not be complete without sharing our adventures with my favorite traveling partners. These partners of mine happen to be twice my age. They’re also my parents.

I’d been looking forward to the day of our reunion since our tearful goodbye last fall. Standing in the St. Louis Lambert Airport, my mom whispered to me as she hugged me tightly goodbye: “Think of all your eyes will see before we see each other again.” She was right. These eyes have seen quite a lot, but no exotic locale has brought these eyes more joy than seeing my favorite traveling partners again.

First came the great debate: where to meet up on our around the world journey. With my dad’s thirst for adventure, the sky was the limit. A remote corner of Africa or isolated region in Asia, he was in. My mom’s adventurous appetite is, well…quite malnourished. She sticks to a strict diet: no further west than France, no further east than Italy.

With this in mind the decision was made: la dolce vita it would be with a little Swiss chocolate on top.

Italy is a special place, and in my opinion, the perfect holiday destination. There’s abundant sunshine, rich culture and history, friendly people and arguably the best food and wine in the world. We had all gotten a taste of this on previous visits to Italy, making the Italian Grand Tour -Rome, Florence and Venice. This time around it would be different. We were here to discover how to live like Italians.

And so our adventure began. We greeted my parents in the fashion capital of the world and from Milan headed north to our new Italian digs.

Our Italian home away from home goes by the name of Casa Sue. Located on the shores of Lago Maggiore in the Piedmont region bordering the Italian Alps, Casa Sue is owned by a relative of mine who so graciously lent us their Italian holiday home for our stay. Just an hour north of Milan, the home sits on the mountainside between the lakeside villages of Lesa and Stresa overlooking one of Italy’s great northern lakes.

I fell in love with Casa Sue from the moment we walked through the doors. Housed in a renovated paper mill, the place oozes with charm. High ceilings and well-appointed furniture give it a Venetian ambience and the hanging copper pots, hand painted cupboard and sun-choked kitchen take you out to the Tuscan countryside. But above all, what really got me with Casa Sue is the veranda. This is the heart of the home and where many of our sweetest Italian memories were made. Country-style barn doors open up to an unparalleled view of idyllic Lago Maggiore. Flower boxes exploding with purple, orange, pink and white flowers welcomed us as we sunk into the bouquet of pillows awaiting our arrival. We thought our view was even better than that of octogenarian president Berlusconi whose ‘humble’ abode sits on the large swath of real estate resting just beneath our lane.

For the next 10 days we would use Casa Sue as our Italian headquarters from which to explore the surrounding region. My dad set the tone of the trip early on. Within the first hour, we ventured into the town center to feast on an Italian lunch of cannelloni and eggplant parmesan, hit up the local gelaterria and stocked up on meats and cheeses, breads and pastries and copious amounts of red wine.

For the next week we took pleasure in exploring the traditional villages dotting the northern lakes of Italy while indulging in all our Italian fantasies. Our to-do list each day consisted of two things: eat well, drink better. Mornings were spent lounging on the veranda preying on flaky pastries while plotting out the day’s drive and culinary escapades. Afternoons consisted of leisurely walks into the neighboring villages for cappuccino and stand-up espressos. At sunset we assumed position: the ladies preparing the veranda with candlelight and men uncorking bottles of wine and laying out a platter of antipasti fit for a king.

From here, with our hosts’ restaurant Bible in hand, we faced the biggest decision of the day: where to eat. After selecting our ristorante di giorno, poor Pop had to cut his cocktail hour short as the windy roads to dinner necessitated sobriety.

Like all regions in Italy, Piedmont has its own assortment of provincial specialties. Each night we set about making the second most difficult decision of the day: what to eat. Again, my dad set the tone, always ordering a primi and secondi piatti, surreptitiously, if we ever chose to forgo the two courses. As luck would have it, the famed white truffle was in season as well a myriad of Italian game. As such, primi piatti often consisted of homemade tagliatelle topped with white truffle or a wild boar ragu. The second course was often fresh fish and seafood from one of the surrounding lakes or local game. A favorite dish, and certainly hard to top, was the sage-stuffed quail wrapped in prosciutto and served over parmesan and truffle risotto. Back at the homestead with bellies full, we eased our way out of the food comas with chocolate liqueurs.

This was la dolce vita at its best and the reunion with family proved well worth the 11 month wait. Truly the trip of a lifetime within our trip of a lifetime. Thank you, Mom and Pop!

We’re taking off into the wild, into the African bush.

Ever since thoughts of this trip began dancing in our heads, we’ve been dreaming about embarking on an African safari. That day has finally arrived. With our wheels, a tent and a trusty map, we’re headed deep into Namibia and Botswana for a wildlife adventure.

We’ll be putting a pause to our blog updates for the moment as we venture out of civilization. More to come on our journey soon.

Thanks for following our adventure.