My husband has dreams of living in Latin America. I should say goals, in some things my husband can be very determine. I absolutely have no doubt what so ever in my mind that we WILL live in Latin America for different bouts of time. (I can say that with the same assurance, that I could have told you my first child was going to be a brown eyed boy. I knew that before he ever graced my belly and made me nausea.)
Anyway, back to Latin America, I feel bad for my poor husband, he has such dreams and I think I swash them all down. I don't mean to be, I know at some point it will come to pass. But see two nights ago I realized something I always knew but I finally connected it to my husband's dreams.
I love the idea of traveling, I would love to go to Egypt, Israel, back to Paris (there is so much more to see than 4 days can do justice), there are many other places, but I absolutely hate the idea of international travel. I abhor the idea. You see unless I have a terrible memory, I have only traveled internationally twice.
The first time I went to Paris and Holland with my sister, apparently I had some subconscious fear because for the month leading up to said trip, I broke out in hives on my legs routinely. Then during the flight to Paris de Gaulle I broke out hives again. I couldn't find my benadryl, my CD player player ran out of batteries (you always think you check those things, except it happens to me about every fifth flight), and we were in a ghetto plane without TV on the back of the seat. It was a long miserable flight in coach.
And that right there is the reason I never want to travel internationally again. Not to mention I don't really like flying, its just the only option, since driving takes S-O-O- L-O-N-G.
That right there is the reason I accidentally squash all my husband's aspirations about Latin America.
The flight back was fine and dandy. I never randomly broke out in hives again, after that first flight. The trip was very fun.
If I could always fly business class or better, I wouldn't mind international travel. My second passport stamp came from a trip to Argentina with my husband. I enjoyed Buenos Aries, it had a very European feel, except for the food tasted terrible. Never go if you are pregnant.