But I do like BEING in faraway places. I like it a lot. It’s just that the travel itself to those places that really gets to me. I don’t like the hassle of lining up for a visa, and all the suspicion and the condescension that come with applying for it. I really don’t like riding planes. I really do hate flying. Not just because of the fear of crashing, but the weird way life transforms while on a very long plane ride. While you’re there it’s like a half-life. You feel like you’re half conscious and not fully there. It’s like walking underwater. There is a loud din that seems to press on you from all sides. It’s almost like being in a dream.
When I get home from a trip that involves a plane ride, I almost always get sick. Coming home from Singapore last year I fell sick for two weeks. Thankfully enough, I didn’t get sick from this last trip, but I did feel extraordinarily weird and out of sorts for a long time. In fact, it’s been almost a couple of weeks since I’ve been back and I still feel weird. Only now have my sleeping patterns have seemed to normalize. I still don’t feel completely myself.
But you know what, it’s completely worth it. Being in those faraway places, experiencing something new, meeting new people and making new friends… they’re all worth it. Right at this moment I can’t think of wanting to leave again, but I know for sure not too long from now I’ll get the travel bug again and would want to get packing once more.