The other day, in between nursing the financial and emotional hangover from my holiday trip to New Orleans and planning my upcoming birthday trip to Belgium, I somewhat spontaneously booked a flight to Ireland. I say “somewhat” because I’ve had flight fare watchers to Dublin set up for months and have been dreaming of Ireland long before that. So clearly I was planning it.
It was ridiculous to book the flight, even by my standards. But I did it anyway. I was — and am — extremely excited to explore Ireland and am currently debating if I can squeeze in a side trip to Islay or a detour to Belfast. (Update: I went to Glasgow!) Except underneath that excitement is a heavy layer of guilt.
There’s the financial side, of course. (Although my flight was practically a steal, I swear!) As my couch slowly deteriorates in my apartment, begging to be replaced, here I am booking flights to the other side of the world again. Then there’s the responsibility side. Maybe I should be a responsible adult and not travel so much. But then — my wanderlust-infected brain argues — what’s the point?
Soon my thoughts were tumbling down a rabbit hole and I found myself wondering why I travel so much. And, like most things I contemplate, I had to write it out to make sense of it in my own confusing brain. So, here we are.
Why I Travel
I Travel for Excitement.
Why does anyone travel, ever? To experience the unknown, to explore; to feel that heart-pumping, wide-eyed feeling of doing something for the first time. From eating something possibly squeal-worthy like haggis in Scotland to tasting a bite of something unidentifiable in Switzerland, I never know when I’ll discover a new favorite food (like blood sausage in Spain).
And even when I’m not stuffing my face, the thrill of discovery is an adrenaline rush I can’t beat. I may not be an adventurous adventurer (I much prefer opera to the outdoors) and things might not always go as expected (like realizing I’m petrified of the ocean while swimming with whale sharks in Mexico), but at least I lived to tell the tale.
I Travel to Learn.
Lessons I learned while traveling: I can spend two weeks in a foreign country by myself without getting bored or lonely. In fact, traveling alone is addictingly fun. And knowing I can handle those hiccups that arise (albeit with some frantic phone calls back home) is an incredible confidence boost. Even solo Christmas dinners, New Year’s Eve outings alone, and Valentine’s Day tasting menus for one got nothing on me!
And there are little lessons. For example, I now know the two wine regions of Champagne, France, are not driving distance apart, despite what the cab driver said. I know there is a church decorated with 40,000 human bones outside of Prague — and it’s not half as creepy as it sounds. I know traveling with a broken heart is the best way to heal it. And that it’s ok to follow my heart where it wants to go, like Scotland… even three times in five months.
I learn a million little lessons on every trip I take. I learn about other cultures and my culture and little phrases in foreign languages and how to deal with setbacks and side tracks. The list of lessons is endless but the bottom line is that the world is a big place. And one of the reasons why I travel so much is coming home with new knowledge and a new sense of wonder, and the way that makes me look at my entire world differently.
I Travel to Escape.
Before I moved to Chicago, I used traveling as a way to avoid where I lived and my issues with it. At the time, it felt like I was suffocating from my life and boarding a plane was like a breath of fresh air. (Well, after it landed and I stepped out of that stale plane smell!) I thought I needed to travel. But what I really needed was to move to a city I loved. (Ta-da!)
When I realized I’ve spent the last few years doing the same thing again, even in a city I love, I got concerned. (Hence this article!) Maybe traveling is an excuse to avoid staying around long enough to actually go on a date in Chicago or to prevent myself from realizing that I spend majority of my life by myself. (Somehow traveling alone doesn’t feel as alone as cooking dinner by myself…) Or maybe wanderlust really is a thing and traveling really is addicting and I just can’t help it.
Either way, two things are certain: I love taking the risk that the next place I visit might be magical. There’s a point while exploring every place I adore when my heart swells as I fall head over heels with where I am. (I’m looking at you Zurich, Edinburgh, and Kyoto!) Of course, there are times I never get close to that feeling (ahem, Geneva). And I also love coming home to my adorable apartment in my loud, crowded, crazy city of Chicago. Swoon.
I Travel Because it’s Priceless. (Well, not exactly…)
A few years ago I realized spending money on experiences made me feel better than buying stuff. Since then my motto has been collect moments, not things, and slowly I shifted to spending money on dinners with friends, experiences, and travel. Now some of my most prized possessions are pictures and memories.
As much as I love shopping for new shoes, and at the risk of sounding like a Mastercard commercial, there’s something priceless about a memorable experience, especially while traveling. Like sitting on the second row at one of the best opera companies in the world or drinking giant steins of beer at Oktoberfest.
I travel because gouda cheese really does taste better in Gouda, Netherlands. And the beer really is better in Germany, just like the snails in Paris, the ramen in Japan (although Frankfurt’s was close!), and tapas in Barcelona (and maybe in Toronto, too).
I Travel Because I Love it.
I travel because the world is so big and there are so many cultures I haven’t experienced, languages I haven’t heard, and adorable alleys I haven’t wandered down. And I just can’t fathom living a life only being surrounded by my own city limits — no matter how great Chicago is. There’s so much to see and taste, and I’ll never do it all by staying on my couch. Especially if it’s a brand new, fancy, expensive couch that costs the same as a trip somewhere far, far away.
Maybe one day I’ll stop traveling so much. Or, even better, maybe not.
Besides, I haven’t been everywhere yet, but it’s on my list.
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Related :: 9 Things Traveling Taught Me About Life, The Similarities Between Love & Travel, and Traveling is Life in a Nutshell
