“I want to travel. For the rest of my life, I want to travel”.
I came across what I can only sum up as a fantastic blog post written by Ben Groundwater from Traveller.com.au and I thought I’d share it with all of you.
I don’t think I’ve ever read anything that explains how I really feel about travel…and the dream to do it. Permanently. It may not happen today, tomorrow or five years from now, but it is something that I hope I would be doing someday.
Someday, the world will be my permanent postcode.
It’s difficult to maintain a blog dedicated to traveling, wanderlust and what not when the other half of me is also trying to maintain another lifestyle. This arrangement is only temporary.
Every week, I make a point to look back at some of my travel photos, read the travel journals I’ve written along the way, go through ticket stubs and city maps from my travel box of memories. I close my eyes and all of a sudden, I’m back.
Every year, I try to go somewhere new, whether locally or in a different timezone. You don’t need to go overseas to feel or experience travel – more often than not, your next travel experience is right in front of you.
Anyway, here’s an excerpt from Groundwater’s blog post:
I’d made some big decisions to get to that place on that day, taken some gambles and made some changes. I’d quit a full-time job a few months before in order to see more of the world. I’d sold up my furniture and bought a one-way ticket heading west, through south-east Asia, through the sub-continent, and then I’d planned to go on to Africa and eventually Europe.
I’d been wondering if it was the right call. No one leaves a perfectly good job in media without another perfectly good job to go to. No one takes a gap year for a third time. But on that day, as I asked a British tourist to take a photo of me on the train, everything seemed like it had fallen into place.
A birthday is the sort of milestone that makes you weigh up your place in the world. Your 25th is a significant one, a quarter of a really good life, a point when you should have started to figure a few things out. And that day I felt like I had.
I was loving the travellers’ lifestyle of being constantly on the move, of seeing amazing new things and meeting amazing new people every day. Why not try, I thought, to keep on doing this?
I had the bug. And it would never go away.
I sometimes wonder whether other travellers have a similarly defined moment of knowledge like that, or if it’s usually more of a creeping thing. For some people it must be a slow burn, something that just happens over time, when you realise after many years that you’ve been obsessed with travel all along.
For others, like me, it would be a sudden jolt, a conscious thing. It might be just one experience that triggers it, or one amazing trip that forever changes things. You have the bug.