“I’ve been everywhere, man; I’ve been everywhere; man; Crossed the deserts bare, man; I’ve breathed the mountain air, man; Travel, I’ve done my share, man; I’ve been everywhere.”
—from “I’ve Been Everywhere” as performed by Hank Snow
One of the fascinating dynamics of retirement is the difference in attitudes many men and women harbor about travel. Women like it. Men? Not so much.
Yes, this is a generalization, and it’s obviously not always true. But it’s been my experience that women simply seem to enjoy travel more than men during their retirement years.
If you could transport and replant the Louvre, Broadway theaters, the Caribbean and Hawaii, the Sistine Chapel, the south of France and a quaint Italian village into downtown Destin, my husband would gladly visit several times a week. Then he’d come home at day’s end. One of the reasons he espouses for not being a fan of travel is the hotel experience. “I’ve slept in enough bad hotel beds to last several lifetimes.” And, “I always get the room next to the ice machine.”