Many of our Christmases growing up involved travel, although usually a 5 hour drive, at most, to a relative’s house. Inevitably the drive would involve a certain amount of caroling amongst us.
There were two holiday seasons however when we actually travelled outside the country. One, a Christmas gift from dad, was a trip to Disneyland when I was about 6. The other was a trip to Mazatlan, Mexico (was it 1985 or 1986?)–we left shortly after Christmas and remained until after New Years. Both were, as you can imagine, memorable trips.
