The Traveler

When I pick up my backpack, I feel free, with the confidence that comes with solo travel. Realizing I’m in a foreign land, alone, thousands of miles from home. I don’t know anyone; no one knows me. I’m not afraid; I’m free. You begin to live nomadically, seeking an ever-changing horizon, an immersion in the world and the self. You meet people from distant lands. You eat great food. You live passionately and grow. After a while, you fall in love, and this place that was once foreign begins to feel like home. But you must go. Such is the curse of a traveler.