All too often it happens to Ankita and me. We come back after long trips to the comfort our own beds, familiar food, wardrobes instead of rucksacks and a place we can call home.
But just a week goes by and we long to travel again. Like whales that come up briefly just to take a breath and dive again.
In cultures like ours, people around us… family members, friends and colleagues seem to find this improbable. To the extent that at times, we feel guilty of the feeling to wander again.
I may have found some explanation to this.
People think that travelers would stop after they’ve seen enough. But the folly exists right there. It’s only after you travel that you realize how big the world is and how little of it you’ve actually experienced. So you’d never stop, you can’t.
And you’ll never know the scale of the world sitting at home listening to stories.
The world is not in your books or maps. It’s out there.
- Gandalf
So… go out there. Fill your heart with the mountains, drink up the sea, dance with the deer and smile with new people. It’ll wear your body, but it’ll nourish your soul.