The thought had never entered my mind until I was asked where I wanted to go – and before I could think, the word Mexico popped out of my mouth, startling the both of us. “Why Mexico?” he questioned. “Why not?” I responded with a shrug of my shoulders as I turned away, trying to figure the out the answer to that myself. We spent some time and effort planning and prepping, after all a family of five can’t just jump into the car and drive across the broad expanse between Canada and Mexico on moment’s notice, but before we knew it, we were on our way! It was an adventure of a lifetime for all of us, every State along the route had its fabulous attractions attempting to distract us and yes, some of them managed to - temporarily. Mountains, lakes, valleys and plains beaconed as the we covered the kilometers/miles across Montana and the southeastern ‘foot’ of Idaho, meandered through Utah and Arizona roughly down the middle, the sights preserved only by the occasional photograph, memorable ‘not off the beaten track’ point of interest and frequent bathroom stops. The reality seemed to hit as we drew closer to the border, the realization we were about to lose our ability to communicate in a foreign land was a strange thought and we were about to become foreigners. Excited and slightly nervous about our entry, how we ever managed to complete the process, none of us really knows – but before long we and our van were officially in MEXICO! The cramped streets of Nogales, Sonora were narrow and littered, there were stands selling food and knickknacks dotting the sidewalks in front of many of the stores. One couldn’t help but wonder how people even managed to get to the entrances between them and people milling about everywhere. There were no brightly colored ponchos, nor huge sombreros in fact, the people weren’t dressed much differently than we were or those in the two countries we had just left behind, except for the one woman in hand embroidered finery prompting a discretely taken photograph. Near the outskirts of the city a lonely new Volkswagen Beetle whispered the sorry state of the economy as we drove past. The drive into the countryside was of little comfort as we passed inhabited houses in various states of decay. Although we were ecstatic about being in this spectacular Spanish speaking foreign land, empathy swept over like a wave of sadness as we continued southward, concerned about just how overwhelming the poverty may become before we reached our seaside destination. We had read the warnings not to drive in Mexico at night so as the sun began to set, we located the next town on the map and decided to stay somewhere there. It was dark when we arrived, everyone was tired and cranky. We’d forgotten in our road weary state to ask to see the room before checking in, a mistake we vowed to never make again as the over used mattresses sagged and an occasional roach scurried into the bathroom to escape our unannounced entrance. Needless to say, when dawn broke, we were already out the door – the town appeared in better condition than the city that had greeted our arrival, the streets were less cluttered with debris and there was a pleasant looking restaurant just across the street. The sight brought new hope to our hearts, with renewed enthusiasm we tossed our luggage back into the van and headed to try our hand at crossing new borders, ordering breakfast from a menu we could not read – thankful that pictures really are worth more than and actions speak louder than, words. As we paid the tab with some assistance from the waitress, a radiant smile lit her face as we tipped her and with our beginner Spanish said “Gracias” to thank her and “Adios” as our farewell on our way out the door. Our Mexican breakfast success filled us with contentment and optimism to continue the journey south that enriched our lives in 1995 and unknown to us, was the beginning of a never ending journey that dramatically altered and still alters our entire life's course.