Outside my Front Door is a series of posts by fellow travel bloggers who share what is … outside of their own front door


Amy Lynne Hayes is part artist, part designer, mixed with a free-spirited traveler’s soul that keeps her moving. Her blog, Créatrice Mondial,  follows her path around this world, introducing readers to the places she has been, the cultures she experienced, and the creative minds she met along the way. All designed to inspire and ignite an incurable case of wanderlust.


The waves softly crash against the shore, the sweet smell of of the salty air blowing tickling your nose. Your eyes are closed, partly to block out the gleam of the sun, party to allow your other senses to soak it all in, sight unseen. The heat makes you feel lazy, but that’s no matter. It’s Saturday, and there’s no better place to be.

This could be the story of any beachside destination in the entire world. Fortunately for me, I have a beach that fits this description right outside my front door. I grew up in Stuart, Florida, a little community just north of the Palm Beaches with a real small town feel. The beach, this beach in fact, was only 15 minutes away. I never surfed, I never used a skim board (or whatever those things are called). I just liked to sit and watch the waves. And take a little dip whenever I couldn’t stand the heat anymore. Safe to say that in August, I spent the majority of my time in the water.


But if I felt at home on the quiet beaches of my hometown, I felt a similar pull to the coastal waters around the world. Each and every one so different, yet with that same salty air. There’s something familiar in that smell, no matter which longitude or latitude. It’s almost like bringing a piece of home with me.


I remember the long stretches of white sand on the beaches of Koh Samui, Thailand. Or the rocky shorelines of southern Australia, along the Great Ocean Road. The crowded shores of the Italian Riviera. Not as pleasant in the relaxation sense, but still with that same salty air. As different as the individual landscapes are, you still leave with slightly scraggly hair, slightly crispy skin, and the warm satisfaction of having spent the day in the sun. And if you close your eyes, listen to the sound of the waves, and breath in deeply… you can almost imagine you’re home.

Italy 2006 237

You might like to follow Amy on her blog Créatrice Mondial. You can also engage with her on Twitter, Facebook, Google+ and Pinterest.





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