I am getting itchy feet. After finishing uni a while ago, I took off through Africa, Europe and India for a year or so and upon returning home, swore that I would prioritise travel more. But then I stayed in one place and put down roots. I built a house and got two cats. And got knocked up. All of which have firmly cemented me to this little patch for a while longer, at least.
Heaps of friends have packed it all in and taken off for an extended trip overseas. One is in Vanuatu, another is in Kenya. One of my best friends has moved to London indefinitely. I miss her already.
I want to go to Cuba before it collapses, and Japan before the bubble bursts. I want to go to New York before I get old and New Orleans for the music. I want to ride along the Rhine from Basel to Amsterdam and along the Baja peninsula in Mexico.
For now, I’ll have to be content with planning adventures in my head until the baby comes. And once it is more of a person and less of a blob, we will pack up and hit the road again.