I usually spend Septembers sorting through pictures, picking which ones to frame, admiring the new Lonely Planets on my travel bookshelf and sated from a summer spent exploring.
Today...not so much.
Mozambique was hardly the adventure of a lifetime and after the year I had in 2011, it's amazing that I feel like I have anything left to experience in the world. But I do, and I want it, badly.
A travel addiction is a serious problem with me. The monotony of daily
life in Edmonton is simple and mindless and I like it. But every 8
months, on the dot, I get itchy feet and need, absolutely need,
to leave and get thrown into the most uncomfortable, unique, new,
mind-blowing experience that I can possibly find wherever I am in the
The adventures of the previous summer usually tide me over until the deep dark winters of Alberta when, in February, I find myself weeping in the travel section of a bookstore and knee-jerk book a trip to some crazy destination I know nothing about. But what is going to hold me over this year?
I still want to write a book about our trip to Mongolia, so maybe I can relive that adventure long enough to find myself weeping in the travel section of a bookstore in December, instead of tomorrow....which is what I feel like doing.
My ideas for next summer depend on the universal two factors - time and money. Although I'm currently hypnotized about the idea of the Silk Road and doing the 'Stans. I should go to India just so I can say I've been there to people who always ask. Or maybe Cameroon. Who knows? I certainly don't.