the (literal) dream vacation

As we roll through July, and the office empties out with coworkers gone fishin’, I’ve been forced to come to terms with a certain unfortunate fact: I’m not going on vacation this year.

Since I’m only three months into work with my new employer, I haven’t been gifted with any days off yet (I’ll have to wait for the six- and twelve-month marks till that happens—and what glorious days those will be!). It could be a whole lot worse, since I’ll end up with eighteen days of paid leave once the year is through—um, yes please? But as Tom Petty so eloquently put it: “The waiting is the hardest part.”

Weekend trips are out, too, as I recently passed my beloved old Bridget Honda on to a new owner. Again, no complaints: I’m elated that $4.50/gallon gasoline, car insurance premiums, and repair bills aren’t draining my bank account any longer. It means, however, that I won’t be leaving Chicagoland for a very long time, as enchanting a land as it may be.

When you have no time, no transportation, and no resources, you dream. So allow me to fantasize a bit about future vacation days, will you?

Photo via Kristina

I’ve fallen head over heels for the idea of camping out West. Everything is bigger and wilder there; I could imagine losing my worries in the swimming holes, unplugged from the swirl of news, e-mail and to-do lists, belly full of trail mix and shoulders warmed by the sun.

Photo via Kristin

As for a Midwestern road trip, I’d drive down to New Orleans, with stops in Memphis and Nashville. I want to eat at K-Paul’s, to taste what slow-roasted hen and blackened redfish are like when prepared by a master. I’d like to tour the Tabasco factory by day and listen to jazz in bars at night. On the way back, I’d stop in St. Louis to run around The City Museum, the Discovery Zone/Leaps & Bounds equivalent for adults, and pretend I was a kid again.

Photo by Chris Warde-Jones for the New York Times

If I could head out of the country, like I did last year? I’d go to the Tokaj region of Hungary, also know as my fatherland, drinking the wine they’re famous for while embarking on a fruitless (but fun) attempt to track down my ancestral home.

It’s only been four months since I settled into a new home city—more on that soon!—but there’s something about an impending heat wave that turns your thoughts to the quintessential summer vacation. Do you have one coming up this year, or are you all daydreaming as I am?