Where it all began
There I am. Just a little nugget. Not a clue about this huge, complex, beautiful world. Just Dad and Mom and my first flight.
In many ways, I was destined to be a traveler. My dad spent over 30 years working as a corporate pilot, and my mom spent over 35 years as a flight attendant for United. Air travel was in my blood from the start.
My parents divorced when I was five, and when my mom remarried we moved to California. From the time I was six until I turned 16, I spent every school break traveling back and forth between LA and Central Pennsylvania. This was often difficult (emotionally and physically), but it was made excessively better by the fact that I flew stand-by for free on my mom's employee benefits...and back then there was usually an open seat in first class. By the time I was a teenager, I had clocked a lot more flight time than most people, but I didn't have too much opportunity to vary my route.
Most of the exploring I did as a kid was done mostly by car. I got to see a good portion of California and the western U.S. with my mom and stepdad, and my summer vacations with my dad took us from Virginia, up the Eastern Seaboard, and into Canada. Naturally, a good amount of the excitement was wasted on me at that age (I still have the mental scars from having to bike through Gettysburg in the summer humidity), but I think the imprint was lasting. It's better to be out there seeing things (even when it's a little uncomfortable) when you have the opportunity--TV and air conditioning will be waiting for you when you get back.
The real travel bug bit me when I was sixteen. My best friend, who had lived up the street from me since we were eight years old, moved to Australia with her family. I thought it would be the end of the world but, ironically, it was the beginning. As luck would have it, I got to fly anywhere in the world for free...so the summer after she moved, I flew to Brisbane for my first big international trip.
Going through immigration for the first time in Sydney, I waited behind a young Australian man in his mid-twenties with floppy curly hair and a well-worn backpack. Either out of boredom, or because he could see the apprehension on my face, he struck up a conversation and asked if I had ever been to Australia before. When I answered that I hadn't he simply said, "Well, you're going to love it." And he was right.
I spent a month in Brisbane that summer, and another the following year. Of course, it could have been anywhere--all I really cared about was seeing my best friend--but it was such a blessing to be able to visit her in a place that was seemingly so much different from my own home. From that point on, I seized every travel opportunity that presented itself to me and when those ran out, I started making my own.
It's hard to say when exploring the world became such a priority for me, but it feels like it was inevitable. Even long after the airline benefits ran dry, and it was no longer acceptable to spend a week sleeping on the floor of a friend's studio apartment, I figured out ways to keep the adventures going.
I am now in my 40s, and I've been to over 30 countries and 31 of the 50 states (my goal is to hit all 50 by age 50). I've seen more places than most, but sometimes I feel like I'm behind. There is simply so much more I want to experience. I don't think I need to go everywhere...but I'd like to see how far I can get before I feel like I'm satisfied.
These experiences change you, and whether you are just starting to push the boundaries of your comfort zone, or you have long-since blown up those boundaries, I hope you join me in relishing some of the magic.
