Dear Travel, I Miss You

I think some people are born with a thirst for travel – a wanderlust, if you will – and I am one of those people. The small town I grew up in never felt big enough to me – from a young age I dreamt of being able to explore the word. The first flight I ever took was my junior year of college, to Cancun for Spring Break. I don’t think I was ever the same – I loved every second of it. The flying, the white sandy beaches, the too-sweet drinks and spicy food, and observing the scenery different than I’d seen. While the trip sparked a desire for more adventures in me, waiting tables to get through college didn’t exactly fund them. Over the next few years my travels consisted of more road trips than flights, but then I began my career and had an opportunity to travel for work. Even if I worked 15-hour conference days, wherever I
was and no matter how tired, I would force myself out to see the sights and explore.

The last trip I took before COVID-19 hit was in January, to London. I have always felt a wonderful balance, having the opportunity to live in Erie close to family but to be able to travel regularly enough to feed my need for new sights. Since transitioning to a work-from-home role in October of 2018, my travels are often also my only face-to-face interactions with the outside professional world. Some people have loved the quarantine life; I am not one of them. I miss travel so much. I miss listening to podcasts on my way to the airport, people watching while waiting to board my flight, having the time to focus on a book while flying, and packing each minute full of exploration wherever my destination.

I miss the thrill of navigating the New York City subway system, the feeling of being so alive in the heart of it all, and of course the brunch at Bubby’s.

I miss listening to live music in Austin and hearing everyone cheer out loud any time a Steve Ray Vaughan song comes on.

I miss walking the beautiful canals of Amsterdam, warm stroopwafel in hand.

I miss standing on stage at the Ryman Auditorium in Nashville and thinking about all the amazing moments that have taken place on that stage.

I miss riding underneath the Golden Gate Bridge in a misty fog and thinking about how San Francisco feels like any East Coast-er’s home on the West Coast.

I miss scalping tickets and watching the Red Sox play at Fenway Park in Boston.

I miss riding horses along the beach in Aruba.

I miss all the foods of Italy – the pizza and sesame gelato in Florence, dinner at Pierluigi in Rome, and the best caprese I’ve ever had in Positano.

I miss taking the kids to the aquarium in Sarasota and swimming at the Beach Club.

I miss the majestic views of Zion National Park in Utah.

I miss the feeling of being so uncomfortable in Paris, knowing I need to try my best with French out of respect and failing miserably.

I miss the awe of exploring Stockholm’s beautifully clean streets and the panic of reading through each menu wondering what I could eat since I strongly dislike fish.

I miss the funkiness of Portland and the cool vibes of Seattle.

I miss riding the tube to buy teddy bears at Paddington Station and walking around the charming streets of London.

I miss Vegas hangovers and helicopter tours over the Grand Canyon.

I miss how in some way, with each trip, my views or tastes or knowledge or network or awareness expands.

I miss it all. I know I am so incredibly fortunate to have had all these experiences, and more. And I never once thought while having these adventures that there may come a time – due to a global pandemic, or one nation’s absolute failure in managing it – that they may cease. I hope that one day soon we’re all safe. That I’ll be able to feel safe flying again and get to add to this list. In the meantime, because the sense of adventure is strong, we are heading off on a little road trip this coming week to the mountains of West Virginia. No matter how close or far from home, or what the itinerary consists of, I think that a change of scenery and immersion in experiences different than your day-to-day is so very important. Not only in fulfilling my inner need, but in showing my boys there’s a whole big world beyond their own.