Tuesday, September 14, 2010

Why I Love To Travel


Travel.

When I hear that word, I smile. I imagine myself having fun, seeing new things, meeting different people, experiencing exciting adventures.

I picture untainted beaches, blue water, burning hot deserts, snow-covered mountain peaks, cities that never slow. I see palm trees, the highest waterfalls, rivers, buildings disappearing into a smoggy skyline.

I feel the sunshine warming me through to my core, white sand between my toes, jumping into the clear blue water. The cold of the snow as I roll it between my palms, and the way it falls to pieces like powder as I throw it.

When I think of travelling, reality never comes to mind. I never associate travel with day-to-day minutiae – paying bills, work, financial worries, housework, dealing with the needs of a child.

Travel is synonymous with escapism.

Funny, because it also involves lots of detail: saving money, planning around children, fitting in with the requirements of work, family and other commitments.

From as early as I can remember, I have dreamt of travelling. I don’t know where this dream came from. Mine is not a travelling family. The furthest we ventured when I was growing up was the next state. No other members of my family dream of travelling or spend their days planning the next trip in their imagination, listing out all the places they want to see in their lifetime and hoping to find a way to continually escape from the real world.

Like me.

I want to have crazy adventures, looking back wondering how I managed to do something but secretly knowing the adrenaline had spurred me on. I love the feeling of having done something I would never have dared think I could. Scrambling across rocks, hiking up the steepest slopes to reach the mountaintop, revealing the most amazing vistas. A secret treasure, a view over the rest of the world, when they don’t even know you’re watching. Seeing something you feel that no one else knows exists.

Taking a photograph to keep on your wall for the rest of your days, a reminder of the wonderful times. Something to give you that feeling inside each time you see it.

Time to just be me, without the pressures of work or other demands. To just have fun.

Travel. The word makes me itch to jump in a car or an aeroplane. It makes me smile.


Megan

1 comment:

  1. God, I love how you write. You've made me all itchy with the travel bug again.

    I've never travelled properly but am DYING to go somewhere soon.

    Great post xx

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