We had crossed into northern Italy. Even though we were barely an hour out of Geneva I was relieved when Bob pulled into the first...

It was 1967, the Summer of Love, a time of bralessness and bellbottoms. Flashing the peace sign was a sign of solidarity, we all knew...

In 2018, I fed my wanderlust through a trip to Lyon, France. Why Lyon? I was led there through genealogy. My Great Grandmother was from...