The Feeling of Wanderlust
I distinctly remember driving around New Jersey with a friend in high school who was the first among us to get their license. I remember driving down to the biggest mall in our area, a real freedom at the time when you first have a friend that can drive, and telling him how much I loved getting lost. This was before everyone had a smart phone and a GPS, so it actually felt like an adventure not knowing where you are and having to figure it out.
This was the first time I felt like there was some semblance of adventure left in the world, even in my own small-town way. The first time I ever truly felt like I was on a real live adventure was walking my way through the Gardens of Versailles. We had a map, but we were walking on our own through the estate that spanned acres. Every time we found a new little palace or another of Marie Antionette’s strange little cottages, it felt like magic.
I like my job, and I even like my little cubicle in a dusty corner of an office, but if I do not travel for an extended period of time, I feel a combination of suffocation and combustion. It feels like the quick sand is going to swallow me whole, while simultaneously I have this carbonated wanderlust inside me that is ready to burst.
That feels like the closest I could possibly come to describing my inner drive to travel, and once I feel the itch begin, I sincerely cannot think of anything else. Once it starts, the engines in my mind start churning, and I am on travel sites multiple times a day, pouring over travel blogs, and thinking of nothing but dream destinations. It is at this point that my wanderlust has completely takes over, my ambition and reality align, and I know that at that point, I would let nothing stop me from traveling. I would empty my bank account.
It sounds extreme, but it makes perfect sense to me, and I love when I get this feeling. Because it is then, or I should say now, that I realize that there is never a perfect time to travel. I will never have just the right extra lump of money that gives me a sense of financial security while I book a trip. There will always be a more ‘sensible’ thing to spend it on, another emergency, another reason to put off the dream until some distant day. At the point of full-blown wanderlust, I am fully aware that there is no point in making money if you aren’t spending it on what is meaningful to you, and also acutely aware that this is my one chance at life, and I am going to grab it.
The wanderlust comes from a lack of discovery. I need to feel like I am on an adventure, even if it is just a few days long to places that people have walked the world over, it still feels new to me. Afterwards, I love coming home and seeing pictures of places like the Eiffel Tower, and knowing what’s beyond the corners of the photograph. I love secretly knowing what is opposite the photographer, what is on the other end of the street, what lies beyond the portrait’s edge.
To say that I am madly in love with travel would be an understatement. I can literally not imagine my life without it. This feeling of wanderlust is all consuming, but I feel so grateful to have it. When people say they envy my travels or don’t know how I do it, I can honestly say it certainly isn’t because I come from a family who loves to travel, nor do I have a trust fund waiting for me somewhere. It comes from this mysterious bottled up wanderlust inside me that is dying to see the world, and sometimes I just have to do what it says or else I will burst.
Because of this wanderlust, I have a very exciting trip to one of my top dream destinations that I will announce very soon! Of course…if you are following the Ferocia Fatale Facebook page you may have already seen a big hint!
What drives YOU to travel?