When people ask me about New Zealand, the usual questions come out, “how did you like it, what was your favorite place, did you go to Hobbiton, are you going back, did you meet any guys?” I typically give the abridged version; a cookie cutter response that indicates how beautiful the country is, how great the experience was, that I learned a lot, met some great people, did not go to Hobbiton, would love to go back, and no, I didn’t return with a boyfriend.
To tell how I really felt would be both too time consuming and emotionally charged for the vast majority of social settings. The truth is, while over there I fell in love with people I’ve never met and places I’ve never seen. The thing about travel is, doing it for a week, a month, a year, isn’t a remedy that will cure some internal disorder that some may label “wanderlust.” I wouldn’t call wanderlust an illness, nor travel an addiction (although it does hold some similar qualities), for the term ‘addiction’ has a negative connotation I wouldn’t ascribe to travel. Instead I see it as preventative medicine, for I believe the act of travel makes you happier, healthier, and more whole as a person.
Even if you’re not out touring some foreign country, there is a lot to be gained by living every day as if you were traveling. In travel there’s a good balance between planning ahead while really observing and appreciating the present. Everything is fresh and new, time is limited, and there are constantly people reminding you how awesome every day is. I think when we get comfortable and complacent, we tend to dwell more on the past and future and sometimes forget how precious each day is. To live each day as if you were traveling through life would mean to acknowledge the present as a fleeting moment that requires avid attention and keen observation.
I’ve returned from NZ a bit better traveled and more open in my worldview. My inventory of crazy stories has expanded and list of friends has grown. My bank account has diminished, while wealth in knowledge has increased. My liver took a few hits and sleep patterns and diet were thrown out the window, but health in terms of happiness won the battle. I walked and rode 100′s of kilometers, found beauty in the boiler room of a steamship, the peaks of Kahurangi, and the souls of so many people met along the way. I found comfort and longing on the road, peace and solitude of the trail, and the bittersweet feeling of saying goodbye with an eager anticipation of the next adventure. I became familiar with the unfamiliar and certain of uncertainty. I’ve realized that generally time will pass and life will happen as it damn well pleases, don’t try to change the past or predict the future, because generally you have little control of either. Finally, at the end of it all, I’ve realized it’s not the end, not really.