Originally written, Sept. 27, 2009
On July 28, 2009, I left the only city I've ever lived in. I left everything behind - to travel around the world, to live life and to find my spirit again (maybe even a bit of romance and love, heck, why not?).
It wasn't until I went to Namibia, South Africa in the summer of '08 did I discover what traveling was truly about. All those years, I never realized I had a dormant travel bug within me. Slowly buying its time, simmering and brewing away, waiting for all life's ingredients to meld and come together at last. Camping in the Namib Desert, skydiving in Swakopmund, hiking up Sossusvle in the early morning, soaking up the views at Fish River Canyon and later that night, to look up into the skies, completely unobstructed by any city lights and seeing the Milky Way for the first time in my life... things would never be the same again. I'd return home after that trip, regretting I didn't stay longer and feeling incomplete.
Not even six months after returning home, off I went again, to South America this time. My travel bug's spirit was intensifying. My mind was consumed by thoughts of what else is there to experience? What else could I find to distract me from life's obligations back home? After returning home from a grueling trek through South America (lost over 10lbs) I soon came to the realization that I wasn't meant to do what I had spend the last 6 and half years doing. It no longer held any meaning for me. I could no longer deny it, nor cheat myself any longer. Traveling is my life now.