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Monday, January 28, 2013


by Mauverneen
Every year about this time wanderlust starts to kick in. I begin to get that familiar longing - that travel itch.

Maybe it’s the cold, maybe it’s cabin fever, maybe it’s knowing spring is coming but won’t be here soon enough. I start to daydream about warm places, sunny places, exotic places. Mexico, Arizona, Costa Rica, Greece, just about anywhere the sun shines. Anywhere that’s warmer than here. Somewhere I don’t have to wear three layers of clothing, boots, gloves and a hat just to go to the mailbox. Somewhere I can point my camera at something new, something awesome, something worth tripping the shutter for. Somewhere I can walk into a restaurant I’ve never been to before and try a new dish that I will ask the chef the recipe for. Somewhere. Anywhere. Anywhere but here it seems.

‘Here’ – at the moment – is cold (even though we haven’t had any snow to speak of this winter, an arctic blast or two did blow through here). ‘Here’ is bleak. ‘Here’ has gray skies and bare trees. ‘Here’ is familiar. And maybe that’s it. Not so much that it’s gray or cold really, but that it’s familiar. I want something unfamiliar. Something new. Something with color. Something else to scratch off the bucket list. Something to look forward to and something to talk about for six months to come. A trip to the mall just doesn’t cut it.

Browsing through brochures and internet sites of faraway places, I strive to pick a destination for my next vacation but that only intensifies the wanderlust, makes the itch even harder to scratch.
I want to grab my camera bag and a toothbrush and head for the train station or the airport, and just go.

A cruise? Safari? A camel ride across Egyptian sands? How about a shopping spree through a Delhi street bazaar? The daydreams help, for a bit. But I won’t be satisfied until I take the plunge – make the commitment. Pick a destination.
Addiction is like that. It teases you, tempts you, seduces you into your next fix.
My name is Maureen – I’m a travel junkie.

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