[Mum left notes looking back on some of her many trips. I've put these in chronological order, and edited lightly. --Clayton Lewis, 2010]

The first trip I remember was one on our way from Tientsin to summer vacation in Beidaihe when I was about three years old.

We took the train on the Peking-Mukden line to the station nearest the beach resort, about six miles away. In those days people had to travel on foot, on donkey, or in sedan chair.

I looked forward to riding over on a donkey. Up on the padded cloth saddle, I found I could not stay on. My father was going to walk, and my mother hired a sedan chair. It was decided that I had better ride at her feet in the sedan chair.

One summer Dad took some of us children on a camping trip to Tang Chuan Sse, in the mountains on the border of Manchuria. "Hot Springs Temple" rented their little decrepit buildings to foreign visitors.

In February 1922 my mother, little sister Rachel and I crossed the Pacific from Shanghai to Seattle. In the late afternoon as we approached the coast I saw the snow-covered volcano Mt. Rainier tinted pink by the setting sun.

In the next year we had the loan of a Model T Ford sedan. My father drove us from Worcester into the Berkshire Hills. This was in the days before there were many roadside tourist accommodations. By evening we had not found a place to spend the night. Coming to a big abandoned farmhouse, we found some hay, and bedded down in it, to sleep well until morning.

In 1923 we sailed from Shanghai to Chinwangtao, near Peitaiho. From the sea we could see our own house over the hill beyond the beach.

In about 1924 my mother's friend Kate Lockley, whose husband Arthur Lockley had been transferred from Tientsin to the YMCA in Soochow, near Shanghai, a city sometimes called the Venice of China. It has a huge, tall, and wide city wall. Mim and I had the opportunity of sitting up on it, and we could watch the little sampans moving by in the moat. Soochow is famous for its gardens, ornamented with moon gates and walks made with designs in the pebbled surfaces.

On a later visit, to Alice Morris's aunt, with Doris Cole, we visited a beautiful garden. The Morrises had the loan of a houseboat that missionaries used to visit churches on the many canals. We also saw some splendid rickshas, shiny black with colorful mats for the foot rests.

I graduated from high school in Shanghai in 1929, the year of Dad's furlough. He inherited $5,000, which when added to what the YMCA would pay, was enough for our family of seven to return to the US via the Suez canal. We visited Hong Kong, Manila, Singapore, Medan and Colombo on the way to Cairo and Jerusalem. Then after a dip in the Dead Sea we went on to Beirut, Smyrna and Athens to Napoli.

We toured Rome and saw the big cathedral of Milano from the train. Then up into the Alps to Geneva, and on to Paris where my mother was shocked to see couples kissing on the sidewalk.

What impressed me in London was the huge Clydesdale draft horses.

We crossed the Atlantic on the NEW big steamship Bremen, which was later sunk in WW II.

In December 1930 my father had the loan of an apartment near Union Seminary in NYC.

In college [at Wheaton] I went to as many student conferences as I could. I went to a YWCA conference at Silver Bay on Lake George, a smaller but very pleasant conference in southern New Hampshire, and to the meetings of the Model League of Nations at Yale, Brown, and Smith.

At Wheaton my membership in the International Relations Club and my knowledge of the French language got me the scholarship to the summer course of the Ecole des Hautes Etudes Internationales. A friend I made there was the English Marion Ross-Collins, unmarried because her men friends had been killed in WW I. She later became Warden of a women's college at Oxford.

One weekend at the school in Geneva a group went sightseeing in the Alps out to Zermatt. There Marion Ross-Collins and I shared a room in an inn with a window looking out on the Matterhorn.

Leaving Wheaton with my BA I traveled to Montreal to cross Canada on my way home to Nanjing in China.

On the trip back to the US I got acquainted with two young Hungarian teachers of German in a college in Iowa-- Istvan Erdos and Imre Domonkoss. The parents of Istvan ran a hotel in Budapest, to which I was invited if I ever went to Budapest.

During my last summer I read books in the university library about Central Asia, planning a trip from Afghanistan across to NW China, not far from Dad's last stay during the Japanese war.

Our delayed honeymoon travel in 1936 was by train across Siberia to Moscow. We shared a "hard class" sleeping car with a Russian family.

At one station passengers stepped out for a little walk, and before they got back on the train it started to pull out. I'll never forget the two long-legged Boston ladies who had to hurry to get back on the train.

The rail line west of the Ural Mountains made a big swing around Perm on a hot dusty day.

Back in the time of Stalin we worried that our passports might not be returned to us. I never forgot the feeling of relief when we crossed the border into Finland.

Then over to Sweden. A visit to a big department store coincided with the visit of American tourists buying beautiful Swedish crystal.

On to Oslo, with a night in Finse, where other guests were a black family. The husband entertained us by singing Negro spirituals to go with some Grieg on the piano.

From Norway we sailed across to England to reach Scotland for the IAAE Conference in St. Andrews. Near that town is an old castle with a real deep dungeon for holding prisoners.

We had time to kill, so we spent it in Stratford. In the theater there we saw a performance of "The Taming of the Shrew". Then down to Liverpool to board the "Duchess of Athol", called the Drunken Duchess, to cross the Atlantic to Montreal. From there we traveled to Springfield, ending up with about 29 cents.

We went from San Jose, Costa Rica to see the Panama Canal [in 1952 or 53] because it was being built when my father was a young man. When it was time to come home we had to stay another week because I had forgotten to pick up a required paper for the return.

One year [1955] Dad was called to do some land classification on a big tract of land in Guatemala. He found that government officials had already appropriated the best parts.

He invited me to come down to visit him, so I hired a housekeeper for our four children and flew down. Dad did the cooking in his little apartment. Then he hired the office car and driver to take us to Chichicastenango and Lake Atitlan, a lovely trip among the volcanoes.

In 1961 the international conference was in Cuernavaca, in the mountains south of Mexico City. We included a visit to Teotihuacan and the huge pyramids.

On the drive north to Texas we came upon a bull in the highway, who charged as I tried to drive past him.

Then on to Tamazunchale near the US border.

In 1964 I went to England on my way to meet Ardron in Nice [before the 1964 IAAE Conference in Lyons.] Being a fan of Jane Austen, I wanted to visit the old Roman town of Bath. Then I pushed on to a place few tourists go to see-- the Scilly Isles. From Penzance I sailed on a very stormy day to a place so warm in February that it sends flowers to London. Back to Southampton, where Jane Austen used to attend balls. Travelled to France and met Ardron in Nice, on his way from India.

[After the conference] we drove on a wine-tasting tour to Bordeaux. Saw a big Nazi concrete gun emplacement at Arcachon. Visited Carcasonne.

Returning home [in 1967 from Taiwan; see Memoir] we came via an IAAE conference in Sydney, flying to Singapore, Perth and Canberra. In Australia we went through Narrabri and Woolamaloo. Colorful cinerarias in people's gardens.

Then on to Wellington, New Zealand-- saw more sheep on the way up to Auckland. Flew to Fiji for a night on the way up to Honolulu, which has many Oriental-looking people speaking English.

In 1973 the IAAE conference was held in Sao Paulo, Brazil. We flew down to Rio and walked along the Copacabana beach before continuing south to Sao Paulo. The hotel planned for the conference was barely a skeleton.

We took the post-conference bus tour through Campinas, Riberon Preto and Uberraba to Brasilia. This planned city had blocks containing everything necessary to make complete neighborhoods, but the traffic lights did not accommodate pedestrians.

Just before reaching Brasilia we stopped at Pousada do Rio Quente, which was at the foot of the very steep slope of a large volcanic crater not recognized until planes flew over it.

Our last conference [1985], in Torremolinos near Malaga, took us past Sevilla and Cordova to the Costa [del Sol].

[There was more left unwritten, marked by headings for Anchorage and Suwon. In her correspondence is probably a description of their return to China, in about 1981.]