Why I travel

Wanderlust consumed her; foreign hearts and exotic minds compelled her. She had a gypsy soul and a vibrant hope for the unknown.

D. Marie

I have an “embrace change” tattoo on my upper arm (ironic, I know, since tattoos are rather permanent). I love change. I am addicted to change. It isn’t about bigger, better, or more to me. I am not searching for a mansion, complete with a big yacht and a rich man (although that would certainly help fund the travel). I am not unhappy with my life, nor am I content with life. It’s about what is new, and different, and exciting. It’s about what the next adventure is. If I could change homes, and countries, and languages, and careers, and most everything about my life every 30 days, I probably would. That isn’t a realistic option however, so in order to feed my change addiction, I travel. 

Some interpretation of “no regrets” may be one of my next tattoos, because I don’t want to live with the regret of not having done something. I want to see all of the places, try all of the foods, and experience all of the things. I want to absorb a bit of every culture I encounter, and then share it with everyone. I want to take lots of pictures and write about all of my travels, so that I can go back and read the stories and laugh about them. I want my kids and my future grandkids to have a record of the things their crazy mother/grandmother has done, so they can laugh at them later too. I want to inspire others to go out and explore the world.

I don’t travel to check things off a bucket list. I travel to immerse myself in a world other than my own. I like to go to the places the tourists don’t go. I want to leave a bit of myself behind in every place I visit, and come back home a changed person every time. I constantly crave the way traveling ignites my mind and feeds my soul.

My travel addiction includes every part of the journey. I love the time and effort spent on researching each trip I take. I work best under pressure, and while it can be stressful, I actually enjoy the last minute panic packing. I almost always leave late to get to the airport, skid in on two wheels, sweat about making it through security fast enough, and sprint to my gate to make my flight. I stress friends and family out with my last minute style (not many like to travel with me because of it), but it is part of the thrill of the trip to me. 

I love the pressure of booking places to stay at the last minute, hoping that I can find something available in the price range and location I want. I love the “oh shit” feeling when what you thought was booked falls through, and you have to start all over again. When I am in a new place, I enjoy getting lost and making mistakes. I love the good roads, but more memories are made on the shitty roads. I love most of the food I try, and at least enjoy the experience of trying new things when I don’t love the dish. “One bite is polite,” is a rule I live by when I travel, and I have instilled this into my kids as well. 

I love the sites, the cities, the villages, the countrysides, and the people I encounter. Almost everywhere I go, I fall in love with a little village along the way that makes me never want to leave…at least until I need to travel again.