My foreign exploits have always been among my most valued treasures. Some people hang their hat on their career, others a flash car and pimped out address, but for me it’s always been my experiences traveling the globe that I’ve been most proud of. A motorcycle trip across Cambodia, a trek through the Andes to Machu Picchu, sunrise in the Sahara…priceless.
Although I’m in the midst of planning my next adventure – a trip around northern India in the spring – I found myself telling a friend recently that I was tired of travel and intended to slow down. Was it the prosecco speaking, or did I really mean it? Could the travel bug I’ve been infected by so deeply for so long finally be exiting my system?
The simple answer would be no. But I do find myself pining for the days where I would fill a bag, hop a plane and get lost for 3 or 4 months…or longer. One-way tickets seem to be a thing of the past. So much planning is involved now, to make the most of any trip I take, which I suppose is where the fatigue comes from. But is it ever possible for people like me to be satisfied by a quickie week away somewhere warm to satiate my desire for the unknown?
As I run my finger across the little globe on my nightstand, dreaming of all the places I’ve been and where I’m off to next, it’s clear that my obsession with travel is ever-present. And I’ll continue to use those blessed 4 weeks of paid vacay most corporate types like me are allotted each year. Once a wanderlust sufferer, always a wanderlust sufferer I suppose. Maybe someday my career and gypsy tendencies will collide, but for now I’ll keep dreaming of this…and this.