I am blogging about my first international travel experiences over at my home blog: Just Go! (http://aknickerson.blogspot.com/). This is the fourth part of a serialized story:
My grandparents are wonderful, generous people. They also love to travel, and for two Midwestern, Depression-era kids they have had amazing opportunities to travel this little planet. When my mother was a child they considered moving to Egypt where my grandfather had a job offer. When I was eight or nine they brought me amazing souvenirs from their trip to China: satin, embroidered pajamas and a gorgeous doll. But the best souvenirs from any trip, in my opinion, were the postcards. I know now that Grandma was being frugal, but she always brought me packages of blank postcards with beautiful photographs on the front: the Great Wall, German castles, charming Swiss villages… I had a box (from China) where I kept all of my beautiful postcards and the money they gave me, too (how I loved the Japanese coins with a hole in the middle). Combing through my box of treasures was an adventure itself. It’s no wonder I grew up longing to travel!
As we boarded the plane in Leningrad (as it was still called), I felt that my great adventure was ending. Not that we were headed home. My grandparents had planned three days at the end of our journey for relaxation in London, and I was thrilled. But leaving the USSR for the UK seemed safe and secure.
I was wrong.
To read the rest join me at Just Go! (http://aknickerson.blogspot.com/2008/06/fifteen-year-old-and-terrorist-p...)
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