It’s been at least 24 hours since I’ve been back to the states and I already want to go back. This is a statement that I’ve been saying to myself and to others since I’ve landed in SFO.
It’s weird coming back. For some reason I never thought how much five weeks of travel would change me. I guess I assumed that once I came back everything would all be the same. I would feel the same way as I did before I left. I would just adapt and adjust to my new/old surroundings as usual. But living in the actual moment of being back, lying in my room on my bed typing this, things are different. This travel bug has bitten me and the venom from the bite will not leave my veins. I’m already thinking of ways of how I can go back to the continent that has given me so much in the past several weeks. Europe has given me loads of memories and experiences that I never thought I would have. To be able to say, “When I was in…(Paris, London, Spain, GREECE (oh how I miss that beautiful country),” still boggles my mind. Like, I can be one of those people who has experiences and stories to tell. My life doesn’t seem as dull anymore. Granted, I did miss my friends, family, and my pug, but being back even just for this little amount of time makes me want to once again, pack up my things and leave. Being able to live my life day by day and explore a place that I know nothing about brought back this feeling of amazement and wonder to me that I didn’t really think I had before. As foreign as I was to the places I went I never felt like I was alone or a tourist or out of place. I traveled with people who felt the same way as me and was around people who didn’t care who I was. I was a person in their country and as long as I didn’t disrespect them, which I never had the intention of doing, I felt welcome. I felt as if I belonged in a country and really saw myself staying there for awhile. I loved being in these countries that were so full of life at every hour of the day. It made me feel like there was more to life, that life didn’t just stop and that there is always something going on out there. And it wasn’t only the nightlife, just the fact that there were people just hanging out talking on steps, families catching a late dinner, or strangers from different countries meeting in a public square and becoming friends. It was amazing to be able to see and be a part of this, to be one of those people who met strangers, and not necessarily becoming friends, but they did add to the memories and experiences that I had.
Going from where my life was waking up, have a tour of the city, learn about the history, explore and wander and then go out at night was a dream. To live a life of 35 days with no responsibility was amazing! I think that’s why I’m so taken with the idea of travel. I’ve lived my life for such a long time filled with worry and stress that being selfish for this one time in my life made it so incredible. I did what I want and was free to do what I want. No one was there judging what I did there were no repercussions to my decisions I was just free. I lived in the moment without having to worry about the future and I think this is what the travel bug is to most people. When people travel they just live in the moment. They experience life for what it is. Each experience is a new and exciting one and a decision in the moment is just that, a decision in a moment. There is no thought as to what will happen after and that’s perfectly fine. You live for that moment and that moment alone. And this is what I miss. I miss all of it, the selfishness of it all. That’s why I make it a vow that I must go back. Whether it’s to a new place I’ve never been or back to these places I only had a taste of. I want to go back and feel that wonder and amazement again. To be selfish and experience things I haven’t before. I’m in love with this feeling and I’m counting down the days until I can relive it once again.