Tuesday, 13 May 2014


So I have this thing and it's called wanderlust. You might have heard of it.

I want to travel everywhere and see everything. I have a list of places that I want to go to and I hope that one day I will have seen them all. I'm starting this summer with the City of Light or Love (however you choose to describe it), Paris.

I want to drink up other cultures. I want to fall asleep to the sound of the sea and the sound of taxi cabs and wake up in the morning to sun streaming through the blinds and wake up in the middle of the night to see fragmented street lights through the blinds. I want to spend so long with my feet on sand that they feel strange in shoes and I want to see so much snow that it becomes the view outside of my window.
I'm going to travel and maybe I'll stay somewhere and never leave, or maybe I'll stay for a few days or months or years. I want to live abroad, that I know, but part of the excitement is not knowing where or for how long. There must be something really liberating about just packing your bags and going somewhere. I mean, that's one of the wonders of this world - that you can buy a plane ticket in an instant and go ANYWHERE.

There literally is a world of possibility out there and I don't want to miss any part of it.

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