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The Pursuit of Happiness is to Travel

By on Jul 20, 2011 in Travel Coloumn | 0 comments

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Vietnam Paiting, Ho Chi Minh City

I travel…

Why is my life consumed by the next destination, like heroin pumping through my veins? My drug of choice that is so addictive, pushing me to extreme highs before excruciatingly bringing me to extreme lows. I am lured, NO; I am a slave to the open road. I seek to explore the personal unknown. I seek knowledge. I seek understanding. I seek isolation. I seek purpose. I seek existence.


Why do I measure my happiness by the experiences I have and the next passport stamp I receive? These are surely not important in the bigger picture? Travel is hard; travel is not relaxing as it constantly pushes the boundaries of the basic precautionary existence of humans; normality and the known. Travel is tiring. Travel is costly. Travel is all consuming. Yet I am perplexed that my life is travelling, every waking moment I dream. I dream of a foreign destination. I dream of being re-accepted within the travelling circle. I dream of pushing the limits of my boundaries. My senses eagerly anticipate the kaleidoscope of colours, tastes, smells, experiences, opportunities and the unknown. I am devoted to the notion of travel as much as to the act, no mater the consequences.

So I pursue…

I pursue happiness through travelling. To feel alive, to discover, to live and to love. I travel and thus my drug of choice, the open road, takes me away from the mundane life of normality. Of responsibility. Of becoming old. Of boredom… I’m running, No!; I am breaking free.

I live to constantly practice something new, something different. I am both traveller and tourist.

So why do I travel…because it is my pursuit for purpose.