The Backstory on CancerRoadTrip
An Award Winning Travel Blog
CancerRoadTrip started when I sold my house to travel. Since then, I’ve been through 4 continents, 10 countries and numerous states, numerous times. I’ve also been through 3 rounds of chemo, radiation and surgery. And so much more!
For me, travel heals. As the miles unfolded, it occurred to me: “If I could have a CancerRoadTrip to heal, why can’t others?”
And the idea of CancerRoadTrip was born.
This blog follows my travels, my expeditions to look for future healing retreats, interviews and whatever else may be of interest. You can also read more in the About Section.
Also be sure to check out the gallery for photos and more posts about my travels.
Starting in 2020, with Covid-19 restricting travel, I’ve added a podcast Bump In The Road that looks at how we all navigate the ups and downs, and twists and turns in this road trip called life. The episodes are below and I hope you’ll subscribe to the weekly show.
Sign up on our mailing list to get an email as each episode is released.
In the wee hours of the morning, filled with food, drink and exhausted by dance, we piled out of the house, profusely thanking our host for a memorable evening
As long as I remained oblivious to reality, the reality of the weather, the risks, my own skill level, I moved forward. I knew no fear. I had no experience. I knew no bounds.
Once upon a time, decades ago, I graduated from Wharton.
“Dreaming permits each and every one of us to be quietly and safely insane every night of our lives.” ~William Dement
If I could put my finger on a time when things were good, it would have been the days in Connecticut, at Yale, when we were young and all powerful, out untested futures unlimited in our limited eccentric minds.
I am grateful for the freedom to pick up and go.
I am a bit of a history buff, and World War II, a war my father flew in, has always piqued my interest.
Always remember that you are unique, just like everyone else.
The year unfolded. My classes were wonderful.
I saw no outlet but a naive hope for some better future.
I have that sense that things are amiss. I can’t quite put my finger on it, but I think I need to concentrate on perceiving lift.
Moving from the decadent abandon of New Orleans and Mardi Gras to this germanic mid-Atlantic culture where Fat Tuesday was Fasnacht Day was an unbearable contrast for my gastronomic soul.