Why do I like travelling so much and still love home so much all at the same time? So many of my friends that I have met in the US are total travelling addicts, something which we all have in common. But most of them also have one other thing in common, and that’s that there not a huge fan of their homeland. I guess it makes me wonder if they’re travelling to find something better than the place they call home?
Its different for me. I really really love where I am from, I kind of feel lucky. I realise that a lot of people from East Yorkshire probably don’t agree with that, but I think home is what you make it and I try and make the best of everything. Home is the place you look forward going back to, home is that place you long for when your sad, home is where your loved ones are, home is where hundreds of memories were built, I guess home is that place that makes you happier than anywhere else. So really home is different for everyone, but home for me is in sleepy East Yorkshire and I love telling everyone my stories and memories from growing up and living there.
All this talking of home, made me wonder why I do love travelling so much? The thing is, is that there really is no place like home. But there is a huge massive world out there that is just waiting to be explored. For me travelling is one massive adventure; it makes me feel alive, I love meeting new people and making a friend forever, its experiencing crazy things, the excitement of making new plans, it’s the anticipation, it’s the memories, its those moments that you hate every second of but look back on with such joy…
I reckon by the time I have finished this little adventure, I’ll have been so far, met so many people, created so many fantastic memories, done too many crazy things to remember with people I have grown to love so much that it’ll be hard for me to call somewhere specific home at all.
It Figures.
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