I feel like this a few times a year.
My gypsy soul gets to stirring.
I want the open road, the hum of the tires, and something to listen to.
Sometimes I want to jump on a plane, but mostly it’s the road that calls.
And I typically don’t care much where I am headed, the big city, the mountains, my hometown, maybe even to the coast.
Why?
It is about getting out of your element, your comfort. It is about exploring.
This feeling is hard to get out of your blood, for it teaches you about yourself.
It’s all about the going.
“For my part, I travel not to go anywhere, but to go. I travel for travel’s sake. The great affair is to move; to feel the needs and hitches of our life more nearly; to come down off this feather-bed of civilization, and find the globe granite underfoot and strewn with cutting flints. –ROBERT LOUIS STEVENSON, TRAVELS WITH A DONKEY IN THE CÉVENNES”
–Quoted by Rolf Potts, Vagabonding
