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Margo Millure

The Non-Existent Right or Wrong of How to Travel: Find Your Ideal Eco Tourism Trip

Find Your Ideal Eco Tourism Trip These days eco-friendly travel can mean far more than picking your towels up off the floor because a little card says to in your hotel room. Eco and sustainable travel are hot these days. As more and more of the traveling population become aware of the importance of being […]

The Non-Existent Right or Wrong of How to Travel: Sasee Travel Safety Tips

For women preparing for independent travel, nothing is more of an important consideration than personal safety. To best protect yourself from all kinds of trouble, make preparations ahead of time and use good common sense when on your trip. Choosing the right accommodations may be your most important safety decision. Email someone you know, or […]

How to Pack for Europe Much has been written lately on the topic of “packing light.” For some “packing light” has become a bit of an extreme sport. More power to these people. I just don’t happen to be one of them! Some light packers carry on, both literally and figuratively, about their mad packing […]

The Non-Existent Right or Wrong of How to Travel: A Travel Belle's Guide to Making Memories

My number one rule for having a memorable vacation is “over-prepare, then go with the flow.” Easier said than done, right? Perhaps you think “over-preparing” is too much trouble and not really necessary. Or maybe you are among the perpetually prepared who has a difficult time “going with the flow” once travel time actually rolls […]

The Non-Existent Right or Wrong of How to Travel: The Doctor, the Butcher Knife and Reality French Lessons

I was sick today and instead of calling the doctor for me, Marianne, my French teacher, suggests in French that maybe, maybe, I should “make an appointment with the doctor myself.” Maybe it is the fever, but only part of me understands this unfolding scene at the Coeur de France Ecole de Langues in Sancerre, […]

The Non-Existent Right or Wrong of How to Travel

Given the slap your face kind of heat that rose in oil mirages off the blacktop, I remember thinking at the French/Spanish border that the passport control agent was wearing a short sleeved shirt that seemed rather starchy. My husband, infant daughter and I would only be in this part of Southern France for a […]