Chronicle Editor Emeritus Jerry Bellune’s readers often ask for their favorite places. They have many. Here are 3 they encourage you to visit.

My adventures began in the womb. My father drove my mother on a dark country road from Greer to Greenville where I was born. My wife MacLeod’s adventures began with life as an Air Force brat. She lived all over the world before we met. It’s no wonder that wanderlust had us in its grip. To me, much of the true romance of adventuring is who you do it with. I’ll admit I’m addicted to her. Here are 3 places we love.

1 The Isle of Skye.

This is the largest of the Inner Hebrides off Scotland’s west coast. It is the ancestral home of the MacLeods, her family, and the ancestral home of the MacDonalds, mine. Skye has been occupied longer even than I’ve been alive. Its history includes Norse Viking rule and a long domination by Clan MacLeod and Clan Donald. The 18th century Jacobite defeat at Culloden led to breaking up the clans. If you have any Viking or good Scot’s blood in ye, do your research and go. 2 Tuscany, Central Italy.

At Carolina, my wife was a Tri-Ep, a group of brainiacs too busy with other matters to attend class. Despite that, she graduated in 3 years. When the Tri-Eps decided to go to Tuscany, she had to take me along. We were mesmerized by Rome but fell head over bupkus in love with Tuscany. Our leader Howard Hellams found a villa that could accommodate 14 of us just outside the walls of Siena and an American-born guide who spoke fluent Italian. Pauline brought 2 chefs to the villa to cook for us. We got to help. The food was memorable, and we had enough to last the week. 3 Loire Valley, France.

This is the home of my exiled Bellune family, a bunch of Huguenot misfits who beat it out of France before the Catholics could sharpen the guillotine. My wife graduated from a military dependents’ school in Verdun, site of one of the bloodiest battles of the War to End All Wars. Fellow graduates invited us to a Verdun reunion. I suggested dropping me in Paris. She had other ideas. Verdun was interesting due to its history, but with her former roommate Diane Thatcher and her husband Rod, we engaged quarters in a Loire Valley cheateau. We learned to use a shower built for dwarves and order in restaurants where we pointed to menu items and asked “moo moo?” or “cluck cluck?” or “oink oink?” The wait staff, with Gallic disdain for English, loved it and helped us order. They must have thought, “These impossible Americans with all their money, why can’t they learn to speak the most enchanting language in the world?” Despite college French classes, I can’t answer that.

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