I wish I was going somewhere today…
I love to travel. I love everything about travelling. I love the smell of my suitcase. I love travel sized toiletries, even though I know I’m paying twice as much as I would for the jumbo sized bottles of the same product. I love the fact that I spend countless hours day dreaming about my excursions in the weeks prior to my departure. I even love the things about travelling that others hate. I love crowded airports. I love airplane food. I love jetlag, even though I hate it. I even love that I can’t sleep much on the night before my trip (see earlier blog from Feb ’09). I love all these things simply because they remind me of the fact that I’m going somewhere, and I love going somewhere.
I don’t understand people who don’t love travelling. I know a man who once bragged about how he had no reason to visit another country because everything he needed was ‘right here at home’. At first, I thought he was joking, so I laughed. When I realized he was serious, my laughter turned into weeping and eventually wailing and gnashing of teeth. That’s how much I don’t understand people who don’t love to travel.
I try to structure my life so that I take at least 1 major trip every few months. Last summer I went to Panama City Beach. This past Fall I went to Russia. In February of this year, I went to Colorado. In September, I’m going to Greece and Bulgaria. Christmas of this year, Lord willing, will be spent in Phoenix/Prescott, and I already have my sights on family trip next year (hopefully either Disney World or a road trip to Washington D.C.). Some folks, like the anti-me mentioned above who hates to travel, might call me obsessive compulsive. I, on the other hand, call myself a survivalist. You see, I have to schedule my life in such a way. Otherwise, I’d go mad. Life in a small town is all about getting out. If you don’t plan your momentary escapes from time to time, you become deranged.
Consider the anti-me mentioned above. Can anyone honestly think that everything one needs is truly ‘right here at home’. Surely not. Surely this man is deranged. Imagine if his premise were really true. Where would humanity be today if it were truly the case? The children of Israel would never have entered the promised land. The Pilgrims would never have sailed to the new world. Neil Armstrong would never have walked on the moon. Gilligan would never have been stranded on a deserted island with Ginger and Mary Ann. I shudder to think of a world without a nutty professor who could build a radio out of coconut shells and seaweed, but couldn’t patch a hole in the side of a boat.
We’re creature of curiosity, unless of course our curiosity generator is broken (see anti-me). We long to experience adventure. We love to unravel mysteries. We yearn for the thrill of discovery. That is why we travel. And for me, my next turn can’t come soon enough. I’m day dreaming about Athens… about the ancient cities of Corinth and Philippi. I’m even day dreaming about the Gypsies in Bulgaria.
I wish I was going somewhere today…
I love to travel. I love everything about travelling. I love the smell of my suitcase. I love travel sized toiletries, even though I know I’m paying twice as much as I would for the jumbo sized bottles of the same product. I love the fact that I spend countless hours day dreaming about my excursions in the weeks prior to my departure. I even love the things about travelling that others hate. I love crowded airports. I love airplane food. I love jetlag, even though I hate it. I even love that I can’t sleep much on the night before my trip (see earlier blog from Feb ’09). I love all these things simply because they remind me of the fact that I’m going somewhere, and I love going somewhere.
I don’t understand people who don’t love travelling. I know a man who once bragged about how he had no reason to visit another country because everything he needed was ‘right here at home’. At first, I thought he was joking, so I laughed. When I realized he was serious, my laughter turned into weeping and eventually wailing and gnashing of teeth. That’s how much I don’t understand people who don’t love to travel.
I try to structure my life so that I take at least 1 major trip every few months. Last summer I went to Panama City Beach. This past Fall I went to Russia. In February of this year, I went to Colorado. In September, I’m going to Greece and Bulgaria. Christmas of this year, Lord willing, will be spent in Phoenix/Prescott, and I already have my sights on family trip next year (hopefully either Disney World or a road trip to Washington D.C.). Some folks, like the anti-me mentioned above who hates to travel, might call me obsessive compulsive. I, on the other hand, call myself a survivalist. You see, I have to schedule my life in such a way. Otherwise, I’d go mad. Life in a small town is all about getting out. If you don’t plan your momentary escapes from time to time, you become deranged.
Consider the anti-me mentioned above. Can anyone honestly think that everything one needs is truly ‘right here at home’. Surely not. Surely this man is deranged. Imagine if his premise were really true. Where would humanity be today if it were truly the case? The children of Israel would never have entered the promised land. The Pilgrims would never have sailed to the new world. Neil Armstrong would never have walked on the moon. Gilligan would never have been stranded on a deserted island with Ginger and Mary Ann. I shudder to think of a world without a nutty professor who could build a radio out of coconut shells and seaweed, but couldn’t patch a hole in the side of a boat.
We’re creature of curiosity, unless of course our curiosity generator is broken (see anti-me). We long to experience adventure. We love to unravel mysteries. We yearn for the thrill of discovery. That is why we travel. And for me, my next turn can’t come soon enough. I’m day dreaming about Athens… about the ancient cities of Corinth and Philippi. I’m even day dreaming about the Gypsies in Bulgaria.
I wish I was going somewhere today…
