It's only September...

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 world. 

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.