[image by elle moss photography]
I've got the bug and I've got it bad. Nope, not the kind of bug that leaves you bedridden and feverish and rambling (though I have been a little bit sick lately), the kind of bug that makes you want to pack your bag and see the world!
Now I know I've just been on a road trip in Korea, and a few weeks before that I was in Hong Kong, and before that I was exploring my hometown of Melbourne, yet again. So I'm sure some of you out there are thinking 'get a grip woman! your whole life is travel, how can you of all people have the bug?'. But it's true, I do.
I guess most of the travel we've been doing lately has been intricately planned - everything is researched and booked and measured out. Which doesn't make it any less fun, especially considering a lot of it has been with the step-sons, so I think the planning and the booking and the packing of weet-bix and DVD players actually makes it somewhat more fun. But...I have been hit by that massive urge just to go, somewhere, anywhere. To travel on a whim, to go somewhere new and unknown. I'm hungering for new tastes, new sights, unexpected discoveries, adventure, chaos, chance meetings.
So the husband and I sat up late last night, pouring over the atlas and talking of months off in some hopefully not-too-distant future, when we can buy a cheap second-hand car and drive through Croatia. Or see the sights in southern France. Or train-hop across Spain. Or maybe even head a bit further south and get the ferry to Morocco, or some islands, somewhere. And the dreaming and the scheming help to calm that urge, so that now it's replaced with pleasant thoughts of sunny drives, and free time, and reading maps up-side-down (I have a history...), and all those terribly agonizing decisions - left or right, staying another night or moving on, beer or wine?
Do you ever get bitten by the travel bug? And if so, how do you cope with it?