I had done a decent amount of travel when I was younger, moving to another state and taking a few family trips across the country. For international travel, I had even spent a day in Nogales, Mexico that made me anxious to get back to Phoenix, and an evening in Ontario, Canada, that made me not want to go home at all. But it wasn’t until I went to Wallachia, Romania in October ’98 that I really travelled outside the country for more than a few hours.