I retired in Bali… can you?
Retirement crept up on me. I had excellent health, meager savings and a severe case of age-appropriate denial. Then, three friends died of cancer within eighteen months. I wasn’t yet sixty-one. All younger than I, they had unrealized dreams and unfinished lives.
This past summer, my husband and I kept running into people who had been to Europe on bike trips. Every conversation fed our intrigue and we started looking into a self-guided bike trip through Austria, Slovenia, and Croatia.
How many blogs do you read in an average week? Have you ever wondered whether you should start a blog of your own?
I live in the tropical jungle and dream of cities and cold. A friend lives in an Edwardian, Edinburgh townhouse and dreams of a chic, modern glass dwelling at the beach.
“When a man retires, his wife gets twice the husband but only half the income.” – Chi Chi Rodriguez
Finally, the day we’ve been working toward arrived. Both of us retired. Ever since I left the workforce 10 years ago, we’ve dreamed of the days when my husband would join me.
Say the word, “spa” and it conjures up lifestyles of the rich and famous.
There’s no denying that spas are extremely expensive. However, SPA, or “salute per aqua” is an ageless tradition dating back to Roman times. Honoring your health and well-being with body caring treatments should be a right of all human beings.
“I’m sitting on my roof terrace looking out at the beautiful Pacific Ocean… and I’m basking in the feeling of being on a permanent vacation… [on] a monthly budget of $1,200,” says Mark Bradbury from his perch at the beach in Ecuador.
Location. Location. Location.
There’s an old saying: “What you see, depends on where you stand.” How often have I traveled the same road, only to notice something new?
I saw this as a little blurb in an AARP article: “When you eat out, do you order lobster or chicken?” I stopped cold. I order the chicken, of course. And now I’m annoyed with myself.