The Messed Up Thing About Traveling.
Everyone that spends any real amount of time traveling (well, anyone I’ve run across) comes to an inescapable realization. Traveling makes you want to travel.
I can’t explain why this is. I just know that it’s true. You can travel till you’ve had enough, and yet not long after your return you’ll be thinking about what’s next. Where to go that you’ve never been? What to see? What to do? For the next trip.
In my case, I hadn’t completely decided to cut this trip off officially when the initial idea of the next trip stirred in my subconscious. Exhausted from moving day in and day out, produced two equally strong ideas. First, it was time to head back to the USA. This was enough. I’m tired and broke. Second, where am I going next? What’s the next adventure going to look like?
To answer this question for the curious, it will either be across Africa or across the pacific, from island to island. I’ll figure it out for sure later.
Why such a restless soul? Who can say? I just know that as soon as I’m back in Texas, and sufficiently intoxicated, honest plans will no doubt be afoot.
So, when this happens to you, don’t fight it. When you find yourself traveling; exhausted, poor, and kinda sunburnt, your bag overstuffed with T-shirt’s that just had to be purchased, and your last snatched bottle of hotel body wash all but empty, you start to think about new adventures. This is a turning point. This means you’re no longer a tourist. You’re officially a traveler.
You’re a traveler. Now, go travel.