We've all been there.
Hunched up in the early hours of the morning, on what could only be described as the most uncomfortable seats ever created by man. Sometimes laid out if we win the lottery of finding three or four empty seats together. Sleep crusted half closed eyes, dry remnants of drool around our mouths. Fighting to stay half awake as to ensure we do not miss our call. Whether it is an airport, a train or bus terminal vanity does not win here. Even those who would cake on the makeup at any regular time no longer care. Outside we look like death, inside our bodies are aching for just a glimpse of sleep. But in our hearts and heads we are bursting with excitement and anticipation about the journey ahead.
This is why we do it. We put our bodies through utter hell to get to the other side of the world. But we simply do not care. At the end of the day when our journey has come to its natural conclusion the wonderful memories warm our souls. Forgotten are the countless hours of waiting, trudging the streets in search for a bed for the night. No longer do we feel the weight of our most loved belongings on our shoulders or the aching of our feet. Sure we look back and have a laugh about some of the mishaps and unfortunate parts of our journey but the memories we cherish most are the happy ones.
Nobody ever can accurately describe to you their own personal experience of arriving in a new and foreign city. Such a bizarre sensation is impossible to replicate. Strange as it sounds, the sleepless journey almost seems to serve by enhancing the experience. We would never wish that sort of pain and anguish on our worst enemy yet we embrace it unlike anything before.
Our senses become heightened upon our arrival. Whether it is the smell, the sight or the sound of this new and exciting place that first hits us it will be imprinted in our memory bank forever. We will always fondly recall that smell when first stepping out of the aircraft or off the train. Somehow the familiar sound of a car horn becomes twenty times as loud as the ones back home. Lights are always brighter, people always seem to be moving faster. It is a beautiful reminder that we are in a foreign place.
We travel the world to view grand cathedrals, glistening new highrise buildings and pristine white sandy beaches but in actual fact our best kept memories stem from our journey.
This is why we do it and this is why I am the Obsessed Traveller.
Hunched up in the early hours of the morning, on what could only be described as the most uncomfortable seats ever created by man. Sometimes laid out if we win the lottery of finding three or four empty seats together. Sleep crusted half closed eyes, dry remnants of drool around our mouths. Fighting to stay half awake as to ensure we do not miss our call. Whether it is an airport, a train or bus terminal vanity does not win here. Even those who would cake on the makeup at any regular time no longer care. Outside we look like death, inside our bodies are aching for just a glimpse of sleep. But in our hearts and heads we are bursting with excitement and anticipation about the journey ahead.
This is why we do it. We put our bodies through utter hell to get to the other side of the world. But we simply do not care. At the end of the day when our journey has come to its natural conclusion the wonderful memories warm our souls. Forgotten are the countless hours of waiting, trudging the streets in search for a bed for the night. No longer do we feel the weight of our most loved belongings on our shoulders or the aching of our feet. Sure we look back and have a laugh about some of the mishaps and unfortunate parts of our journey but the memories we cherish most are the happy ones.
Nobody ever can accurately describe to you their own personal experience of arriving in a new and foreign city. Such a bizarre sensation is impossible to replicate. Strange as it sounds, the sleepless journey almost seems to serve by enhancing the experience. We would never wish that sort of pain and anguish on our worst enemy yet we embrace it unlike anything before.
Our senses become heightened upon our arrival. Whether it is the smell, the sight or the sound of this new and exciting place that first hits us it will be imprinted in our memory bank forever. We will always fondly recall that smell when first stepping out of the aircraft or off the train. Somehow the familiar sound of a car horn becomes twenty times as loud as the ones back home. Lights are always brighter, people always seem to be moving faster. It is a beautiful reminder that we are in a foreign place.
We travel the world to view grand cathedrals, glistening new highrise buildings and pristine white sandy beaches but in actual fact our best kept memories stem from our journey.
This is why we do it and this is why I am the Obsessed Traveller.