Hometown: Given: Beardstown, Illinois. Chosen: Chicago.
Favorite destinations: Ibiza, Hong Kong, Buenos Aires, Prague, Camp Wandwega, and Surat, France (population: 498).
Dying to visit: Surat, France (again) and Morocco.
Bizarre travel rituals: Articles inside the book. Inside the magazine. Inside the folder. Inside the backrest. (Turducken style.)
In-flight relaxation regime: Sound-deadening earphones. One pump sugar-free latte...aaaand out.
Always in carry-on: iPad, earbuds, and enough magazines to give most men a hernia.
Concierge or DIY? DIY!
See it all or take it easy? See every possible seeable thing.
Drive or be driven? Drive. Except in Ireland. (Those hedgerows eat rearview mirrors.)
Travel hero: My dog Frankie. For his endless enthusiasm.
Weirdest thing seen on travels: At a dinner in Hong Kong, I was presented a fish eye by the locals. In Jamaica, a herd of grade-school kids chased our bus waving log-sized doobies.
Best hotel amenity: Kiehl's toiletries. A blow dryer that doesn't explode. The kind of robe that you want to live in. And the '60s-style quarter thangy that shakes the bed.
I dream about my meal at Olsen in Buenos Aires, Elckerijc outside Bruges, and in the car driving from Dijon to Champagne (bread, cheese, Dijon).
Everywhere I go, I check out the flea markets, thrift stores, and resale shops.
When I arrive in a new place, I learn the lay of the land by drawing the map in my travel journal, then mapping out every single road, lane, path I take, like a true OCD traveler.
I always bring home an antique trunk packed to the gills with my vintage finds (i.e. junk to get my flea hoarding fix).
If I never return to Hilton Head it'll be too soon because it is one. long. mind-numbing strip-mall.
I travel for the found, the free, and the flea.