I could so easily become addicted to travel. I have done a fair bit of it in my life. Perhaps what I love best about it is the freedom - the lightness that comes with "no fixed address" and no responsibilities. It's just me and my dog and the open road. Nothing else really matters. There's no job to go to, no house to keep clean, no one to satisfy and no one's expectations to be met except perhaps my own - and when I'm on the road those expectations are very few. Just a meal and a bed at the end of the day.
This is lightness. I began to crave this lightness when I was young. I think I was ten or eleven the first time I packed what I thought I might need ( a sandwich and a change of underwear) and decided to head west - maybe hop a freight train. I wanted to tame a wild stallion and gallop with him over the rolling foothills of Alberta. Grow up a wild woman. I didn't get far - in fact, no one even knew that I'd set out. But the intention was there.
I was 18 when I really did set out - with a friend. We had a small overnight bag each, a couple of bus tickets and a bit of change in our pockets. We lived in Toronto, took the bus to the 401 and stuck out our thumbs: destination: New York City. We never made it - we did, however get to Montreal, Quebec City and Winnipeg. We had adventures.
I've had many more adventures since. I still love taking off.
And so, I've packed most of what I need. I will finish packing tomorrow and leave on the 12.45 ferry.
Happy day!
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