Quotes About Travel

I looked down at the brochure nearest me."We're going to Nigeria," I threatened. "I hope you like elephant polo." -Liberty Jones

In the past few years it had become a rare luxury for all of them to be together at once, especially since Daisy stayed in America with her husband, Matthew, for long periods of time. The trips were necessary for both of them: Matthew was a successful business entrepreneur, and Daisy was a successful novelist with a publisher in New York as well as London.

I take it you don't ride often in town?" "No, I travel by foot or hackney." "But your brother…" Kathleen began, thinking of Devon's assured horsemanship. "He rides every morning. A big dapple gray that's as mean as the devil if it goes one day without hard exercise." A pause. "They have that in common.

The village of Gretna Green lay in the county of Dumfriesshire, just north of the border between England and Scotland. In defiance of the strict marriage laws of England, hundreds of couples had traveled the coaching road from London, through Carlisle, to Gretna Green. They came on foot, by carriage or horseback, seeking an asylum, where they could say their marriage vows and return to England as man and wife.

I didn't realize what an impact having a No. 1 single would have. It connects me with people of different ages, and I get to travel all over the world.

Either way, you should get out of that house." "I did. I'm at the Sleep Chalet on Route 9." "Sounds swanky." "If the swank were onomatopoeic, then it would be," Luna said.

You could have been shanghaied down at the docks.

12018Back then, the journey was the thing

answered as they made their way onto the bridge that stretched over the Schuylkill River, connecting City Avenue to the Manayunk section of the city. It was three lanes going only in one direction. Drivers headed to City Avenue from Manayunk

The road that went around and between the buildings hadn't been plowed, but Yasha didn't let that slow him down. He grinned at me in the rearview mirror. "No problem. Is like Siberia." "You've never been to Siberia," Ian said, his eyes still scanning for any movement other than our own. "True. But does not mean is not like Siberia.

On long haul flights I always drink loads and loads of water and eat light and healthy food.

Together, we travel the living river. We turn our faces to the sunlight and fly time and time again home to Kingdom Arcadia.

I wonder, in all of our family travels when times were good, in the fields of Europe and the far-flung reaches of the South Pacific, have I ever seen a place more glorious to the eye and beguiling to the senses than this one? Around us, misted valleys and high mountain vistas offer fold upon fold upon hundredfold of myriad greens. All is dressed in a splendor of cloud shadows.

I like to travel. I love touring, I love playing.

Beyond the Alps lies Italy.

A good friend of mine feels the same way about Italy and another adores a certain island in the Caribbean. For me it will always be Scotland - Galloway in particular. the musical lilt of a Lowland accent never fails to boost my spirits. I'm simply deliriously happy there.

The journey is the treasure.

Seems like half my anxiety dreams are about airports.

As Freya Stark herself had put it: 'To be treated with consideration is, in the case of female travellers, too often synonymous with being prevented from doing what one wants.

I was ashamed to find myself contemplating that for the traveller, Iran's charms lay in its isolation. This was not a mindset I liked, or approved of; I didn't want to be like the smug backpackers in The Beach, trying to keep their special place a secret. I wanted the Iranian people to reap all the benefits from engaging with the world and for the rest of us to wake up to the reality that Iran is not a nation of desert-dwelling terrorists.

I loved that the Iranians never quite did what you thought they were going to do, or even, what you wanted them to do. The whole damn place reeked of cheeky bad-boy charm, and to this, I was not immune.

The two of us with our scrappy motor and no idea what was going to happen next, a Persian version of the Blues Brothers scene – there's 106 miles to Qom, we've got a full tank of benzin, half a pack of pistachios, it's sunny out, and I'm wearing a hijab. Bezan berim!

My money's on the lady," he drawled. "You don't tame a vixen, you just travel in her wake.

The great object of life is sensation—to feel that we exist, even though in pain. It is this 'craving void' which drives us to gaming—to battle—to travel—to intemperate but keenly felt pursuits of every description, whose principal attraction is the agitation inseparable from their accomplishment.