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Living a Dream


Some kids dream of being firefighters. Some dream of getting married. Others still dream of saving the world.

One of my childhood dreams was to travel the world and more specifically, to visit Egypt. It was apparent from an early age that faraway people and places were fascinating to me. I would anxiously await the latest edition of National Geographic in the mail and remember pouring over the images, dreaming about what life would be like in any one of the many distant lands always featured. My mother would often say that it seemed so fitting that Christopher Columbus and I share a birthday.

When I was old enough to travel on my own, the world became my limitless canvas of exploration, and over the years I have visited many wonderful places. Now, I’m excited to say that Egypt will soon be included on that list. 

Those who don't 'get it' ask, "why Egypt?" Well, why not? Smart-assery aside, as a youngster nothing seemed more exotic to me. It came to represent mystic, beauty and adventure like absolutely no other place. I pondered the mystery of the Pyramids, the bustle of the markets, the majesty of the Nile...

In hindsight, it’s incredible to consider how much these dreams reveal of who we are and the direction we’ll take in life. If we’re fortunate, we’re able to live out our childhood dreams. I can’t wait to live this one.

What were some of your dreams?
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  1. Many of us have DREAMS of travel. One of mine is to spend two-or three weeks in Paris, France. I would board in a little 'pension' and explore on foot or by transit.

    As a French Literature major at McGill in the sixties, our 'professeur' felt it his duty to share with the class all the details about Paris from his own perspective. He lectured for weeks about history, monuments to greatness, architecture and design, geography old and new, wars and rebellions, language and food. He insisted we each keep a notebook with the facts, inclluding maps and his own ratings of each location in Paris, so we would know what to see and what to avoid.

    Almost fifty years later, I still have that notebook and would take it with me to explore his view, and create my own. He was never short on opinions either; like the one he shared with me about my atrocious (his words) french-canadian accent! A few years after I successfully completed my degree, I heard that, since Canada's Quebec had begun to stand stronger, he was forced to return to France jobless. Perhaps he imparted his knowledge to another colonial somewhere else.

    Regardless I've held onto the notebook, promising myself a trip to Paris to fulfill the DREAM of seeing the sights he described so long ago.

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