Most things we write come out of a moment of enthusiasm
I have been thinking a lot today about why I intend to travel so much, and have nutted out a few reasons that I want to share.
Firstly, because I haven’t talked much about it before, my travel plans. In July this year I will go to America for approximately a month for both travel fun times with le boyfriend and also university study in Indiana about TV Journalism. In September I will go to Singapore and experience the exhilaration of the Formula 1 Grand Prix, as well as the wonders of a small piece of Asia. With some luck and ingenuity I will travel to either Thailand or South Africa for 4 weeks in the summer holidays to come, on a volun-tourism trip (2 weeks volunteering, 2 weeks touring). In July 2013 I will travel for 2-4 weeks around New Zealand, again with le boyfriend, couchsurfing, exploring, looking, seeing, experiencing and admiring Australia’s neighbour. And finally, the master plan, I will save $10,000 per year for the next three years (including this one) and travel full time from 2015 to whenever. I will work as a freelance journalist, blogger, model, photographer, whatever takes my fancy or comes my way. I will travel from the very south of America all the way to the very north. I will traverse Europe. I will take a train to Russia and then migrate through Asia. I want to admire the world, I want to grab at it like a greedy child and look not with my eyes but with my hands. I want to know the people of the world, to examine our differences and celebrate them, along with our similarities. I want to experience the pain and pleasures of living out of a backpack. And all of these outbursts demand why.
All the world is book, and those who do not travel read only the first page.
We, as individuals, are tiny blips of life on this giant planet. There is so much to see, to do, to learn; so many things that there is no possible way to sit in one city and be content to know only those highways. I must know more about the world I live in, and I must know more about the people who live in it.
I’m a little bit scared of normality.
My boyfriend, the wonderful man that he is, gets up every morning Monday through to Friday and goes to work for eight hours (or usually a bit longer) as an IT professional. He configures networks and fixes things that break, and make computers in Perth talk to computers in Melbourne. I don’t really get it, but that’s what he does, and for the most part he seems to enjoy it. He recently acquired a mortgage, he pays his bills every quarter and he can go out for dinner on the odd occaison. He is normal and I haven’t the foggiest clue how he does it, and I am terrified about finding out. I enjoy being a student because, while I have lots of things to occupy my days, I have broken timetable, and free time that isn’t just reserved for weekends. I am terrified of having to get a full time job, to have to pay a mortgage, to be so dependent on the money flow. So, in a way, travel (refer to master plan) is a good way of postponing this learning curve that I will probably eventually have to face.
I have always been on the go, so why stop now?
I have moved house a lot. I have lost count how many times I have moved house, but i know it is more than 10, probably more than 15. I don’t have roots. I don’t have a specific place to call home that I would be sad to leave, though the boyfriend is working very hard at changing that, sweet thing. I suppose this kind of relates to my last point, but I don’t want to stay in one place for a long time. It would be too stifling, too simplistic, too normal to live in, and stay in, one place for a long time.
While some people don’t travel because they are scared of the unknown, I (will) travel for the same reason. And one day I will bite the bullet and put on my brave girl face and get a full time job, and have children and be content. For now though, for now I will travel and live and experience, because (for want of a better reason) I can.