YPRES, BELGIUM—This spring has been a long celebration—one after another, in a beautiful blur. It all started with Mardi Gras, a week before I left the States. Mardi Gras is always a festive, busy time for our company, with crowds, parties, and plenty of work on our end. It’s the season when the energy around town reaches a fever pitch. Our restaurants are busy, guests are celebrating, and there’s a sense that winter is finally behind us. It’s loud and joyful and chaotic in the best ways—a fitting kickoff to what has turned into one of the most celebratory seasons of my life.
From there, I headed across the Atlantic to begin the first of six RSJ Yonderlust Tours, the first starting in Spain. Near the end of the first week, I hosted my guests on a 10th-floor rooftop during Las Fallas, Valencia’s biggest and boldest celebration. Las Fallas traces its roots back to the old tradition of carpenters burning leftover wood scraps as winter ended. Over centuries, it evolved into a city-wide festival with massive, intricate sculptures—called fallas—paraded through the streets before being set ablaze. From our rooftop, the city pulsed with life, fireworks filled the air, and it felt like the entire community was connected by tradition and sheer joy. Standing there watching this citywide party unfold, it was impossible not to get caught up in the beauty, the madness, and the pure celebration of it all.
After Spain, we made our way to Tuscany to host three groups. Easter in Tuscany is something everyone should experience at least once. Italians know how to do family, food, and tradition, and Easter brings it all together in a way that feels like a personal celebration of life itself. We celebrated at our friend Marina’s house, surrounded by her family and friends, at a long lunch—with people from three continents at the table. Dishes came and went, glasses stayed full, and laughter floated throughout her home. It was an Easter rooted in simple pleasures—good food, good company, good conversation. While we were in Italy, we also learned of Pope Francis’s passing, a moment that cast a bittersweet reflection over the holiday. It was a reminder that even in seasons of celebration, life carries moments of deep significance.
The next stop was Amsterdam— to join my fourth group on a trek through The Netherlands and Belgium— perfectly timed for King’s Day. King’s Day celebrates the birthday of King Willem-Alexander, but it’s really just a nationwide excuse for pure, uninhibited celebration. The Dutch dress in orange—the whole country does, really. Streets, boats, bridges, and canals all glow in shades of bright orange as music blares and parties unfold. This time, instead of watching from a rooftop like we did in Spain, I chartered a private boat for my group. We floated right into the thick of it, weaving our way through the bumper-to-bumper traffic of other boats packed with celebrants. At one point, I thought we might be stuck for good in a floating stalemate, but somehow the canal untangled itself, and we made it through. I even played DJ, mixing the soundtrack to our own little floating party. I’ve never seen anything like it—the whole city laughing, singing, and moving together. It was one of the most energetic, unforgettable celebrations I’ve ever witnessed.
Next, we’ll celebrate Mother’s Day overseas. It will be my first Mother’s Day without my mother, and though that reality carries a quiet weight, I’ll honor my wife and all that she has done for our family. Even far from home, gratitude finds its way in, and celebrations of love and family carry an even deeper meaning.
Through all these celebrations, I’ve been leading RSJ Yonderlust Tours, and it’s worth saying how much I love this part of my work. This particular tour, weaving through Holland and Belgium, includes 23 wonderful people who, between them, have traveled with me a combined total of 114 times. That kind of loyalty humbles me. They trust me with their time, their travel dreams, and their vacation dollars, and that’s not something I ever take for granted. These travelers aren’t just guests—they’ve become dear friends. Being part of their adventures, and witnessing their own celebrations along the way, is one of the most rewarding things I get to do.
This has also been one of the longest periods I’ve been away. By the time I get back, I will have been on the road for over two months. England and Scotland are still ahead for one last group this spring, and I look forward to seeing old friends, making new memories, and wrapping up this remarkable season. I also look forward to getting home—to my family and restaurants, where one new project is under construction and others are on the drawing board.
Even from across the ocean, good news keeps finding its way to me. Our latest documentary at the Institute for Southern Storytelling—on Eudora Welty—was just nominated for five Southeast Regional Emmy Awards. Hopefully there will be more celebrating to do in June. I also received word about a few other upcoming honors that I’ll be able to share soon. 2025 has been a year of celebrations already, and the calendar still has more to give.
But in all these celebrations—Mardi Gras beads flying, fireworks over Valencia, Easter lunches in Tuscany, orange-clad boat parades in Amsterdam—one moment stands above them all.
The greatest celebration of this season, and truly one of the greatest of my life, happened just before I left in March. In my mind’s eye, I can still see my daughter and her new husband on stage at the end of their wedding night. The band had called them up for the final song, and they stood there together, smiling, dancing, and shining with a kind of pure joy that I will never forget. My daughter has always been full of light—joyful, kind, loving—but in that frozen moment, she wasn’t just happy; she was radiant. She was the very picture of hope, love, and happiness, wrapped up in a single, perfect frame. Watching her that night, it struck me how quickly the years had passed, how all the little moments that made her who she is had led to this beautiful, unforgettable celebration. That memory, burned bright in my mind, will live with me forever. No celebration this spring—or any spring—could ever come close to matching that.
Onward.
