A famous saying (by Saint Augustine) is: The world is a book and those who do not travel read only one page. I live by this quote and especially during the summer holidays I’m on the road all the time. Traveling fills my heart with joy and I’m addicted to this special sweet and spicy taste of a new culture but the more I travel the more I enjoy coming home again.
I grew up spinning the globe pointing my finger at it and making it stop with closed eyes – curious what destination it was I opened my eyes instantly wrote down the name of the country or city. It didn’t really matter if it was Jakarta, Toronto, Island, Namibia, Ecuador or Tokyo … every destination has a space on my travel list. The wanderlust for foreign places, exotic regions and cultures – those that are so different from my own that understanding it seems nearly impossible at first sight – already hit my during kindergarden and elementary school. And now, at 21, I’m chasing all these places I once discovered on the globe only. But the more countries I explore the stronger grows the connection with my home. It doesn’t mean that my wanderlust slowly loses it’s power – I doubt that this will ever happen – it’s more that I start appreciating home differently than as a kid. And this is where I finally understood my parents words – who always support me and my (travel)dreams – because they say “you have to travel to come home”. And these words are trues than true.
I love being at home as much as I love exploring the world out there, but even though the travel bug makes me craving for more I always had a smile on my face when I arrived at home after another adventure. So despite the fact that wanderlust runs in my veins – “towards home” is my favorite route.
*pictures by Christoph