Musings from a reformed reluctant traveler

not like travel

I’ve done a decent bit of travel and have lived outside the U.S. for more than three years. Even so, I have a confession to make: I’ve never really loved traveling.

First, let me say that there’s a difference between vacation and travel. Vacation is the white sandy beach, a drink with an umbrella, and letting your skin take on the color and texture of a grape fruit roll-up. It’s a passive thing. Traveling, on the other hand, is going somewhere to see and do. It’s active. Along with this usually comes $7 hostel beds and lots of adventures that happen while getting lost and figuring things out.

People talk about traveling like it’s the only way to learn about the world and your innermost self. Listen, traveling isn’t when you do your deep soul searching. Although I suppose you have lots of time to think about what’s important when you’re curled in a sweaty ball, praying for an end to your food poisoning. And I agree that travel has big benefits—it does broaden your world view and teach you a lot about yourself. But C’mon, it’s not the only way to do that.

Still, I’m married to a traveler and have always been happy to go away. I’ve just never loved it like he does. Until now.

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Keeping an open heart

keeping an open heart

A couple of weeks ago I watched one of my friend’s daughters on a playground. She bent her knees to her chest and swung across the monkey bars like it was no big deal. It made me wonder when I stopped being able to move around like that.

When you’re little, your bones are still busy fusing together and your ligaments are elastic. But soon, when sedentary moments start to outweigh the active ones, things tighten and settle into place.

Can’t the same be said about our hearts? When we’re young everyone is a potential friend. It’s easy to marvel and fresh starts are effortless. But little by little, we stop flexing those muscles and settle into our established communities and routines and work. And just like that, our malleable hearts become calcified boxes.

Expat life is a crash course in keeping your heart muscles limber. Being outside of your comfort zone, pulling up your roots every couple of years, and popping in and out of multiple lives will make sure of that.

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Does tourism ruin everything? It doesn’t have to.

does tourism ruin everything
Same country, disparate destinations—you couldn’t get two more different beaches if you tried (Top: Baru Island off the coast of Cartagena; Below: Palomino, Colombia)

It’s a strange thing to fall in love with a place—you want to tell everyone, but you’re also aware that popularity may be the harbinger of death for the thing you love. Because, it’s inevitable that the more visitors a place has, the more it will change to accommodate those visitors and chances are, the quirky, charming bits that attracted you in the first place will be among the first to go.

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