I just returned from a week long road trip and exploration of the great state of Tennessee. It was a phenomenal journey jam packed with adventure and the best barbecue I’ve ever eaten. I seriously never thought I would rave about a vacation as much as I have been for the past few days since my return. Actually that last statement might not necessarily be true. I do regularly rave about my vacations, come to think of it. I always find it hard to confine myself to a short summary of the things I saw and did, even if it was just hanging out at a resort and sitting poolside. And as soon as I return I am once again trolling the web for deals and steals and discovering new places I can jet off too.
Travel, to me, feels as essential as eating, sleeping and breathing. There is nothing like the feeling of discovery as you figure out a place and all the amazing things it has to offer you. Though people might laugh, I love paper maps, the kind you pick up for free at the welcome center of whatever state you cruise through. I read them like a good book, looking for a route that might not be as simple but provides a lot more roadside attractions. Weeks before any trip I read every guide book I can get my hand on, writing down tips and marking pages as though I am writing a research paper. It builds up the anticipation and once I arrive I feel like an expert, an expert who has never actually seen or experienced any of it.
This last trip renewed my travel bug. My insane itch to go everywhere and see everything is nipping at my heels once again. That’s the problem really: once you go somewhere and get back, it kicks up that longing to go somewhere again, only it’s twice as bad this time. You’ve discovered something new and you’re ready to discover more. I’m a full advocate for indulging in the travel bug, as much as your budget will allow (which can go surprisingly far sometimes). So while I’m stuck here at my job and doing too much school work, I’ll be dreaming of life on the open road.