Runaway.

If I could go anywhere or do anything, without any regard to money or time or occupational hazards, I would. And I would stay gone until I saw everything.

I'd start in Italy, even though I've been there before. I'd spend weeks roaming around the Tuscan countryside, visiting towns like Positano and Florence. I'd ride a train to Venice -- again -- and get lost in the maze of streets that wind around the city's canals. Sometimes, it smells like fish there, but it's so beautiful you don't notice.

I'd roam around Rome, and this time, I'd pay the 12 Euro to go inside the Coliseum. I'd take a million pictures, visit every church, walk in dusty bookstores and spend hours in cast iron chairs outside street cafes, watching the world go by. I'd throw another coin in the Trevi Fountain, drink water from the well at the foot of the Spanish Steps and head to Cozenza, down South, to see where Casciaros came from. Maybe I'd go to Sicily or the Amalfi Coast too. Then, on to Greece.

I'd roam around the Grecian ruins, maybe sit awhile in the Senate and read "King Lear" -- like a true book worm. But, don't worry, I won't be long. My itch to ride around the Greek isles on a scooter couldn't keep me on the mainland for long. I'd eat Mousaka and drink Ouzo with the locals, even though I probably wouldn't understand a word they were saying, and dance the night away in their night clubs while musicians sang words foreign to me. I may rent an apartment there for a month or so, and work at a fruit stand during the day to pay for it. Or a bar at night. Or a scooter rental place for tourists.

I'd sleep all night on a train until I got to Paris. I'd pay another 12 Euro and ride an elevator to the top of the Eiffel Tower. Then I'd lay in the grass and watch all the happy couples. Maybe I'd think of you before I walked to a nearby outside market and got a fresh orange. And maybe a bouquet of flowers. Just because they're too beautiful to pass up.

I'd lay on a nude beach in Spain, just because I've always wanted to. Eat tapas and drink Sangria until the sun came up.

And then, I'd go to Australia. My fear of the deep blue sea would probably keep me from swimming with the sharks, but I'd make it up by hopping along with the kangeroos. Or holding a koala bear. Or roaming through the Outback in a rented Jeep. I'd need a guide. Maybe Crocodile Dundee would be free to show me the ropes.

I'd go on a safari in Kenya. Visit the Vegas-like strip in Cairo. Walk inside Nelson Mandela's 46664 cell in South Africa, just for a taste of history and to feel the true feeling of sacrifice. I'd roam the streets of Prague. Visit Abbey Road in London -- how can you not love the Beatles? And take a ride on the ferris wheel while I'm there. I'd ride elephants in India. Hike up a volcano in Hawaii. Eat bonified sushi in Japan. And walk the Great Wall in China. Maybe even run, if I was in the mood.

Or, who knows? Maybe I'd stop by Guam for awhile to sun on the tropical beaches. Someone there may catch my eye. Some tall, blond sailor who will make me happy for the rest of my days. You never know.

But, I would. I'd run away. Maybe I'll see you along the way.