We hope Vagabond, the travel theme launched yesterday, inspires the nomad in you. To fuel the wanderlust even more, get blissfully lost in the words and images on the blogs below.
It is; “WanderLust” is an illness, to me. Of course, it can be regulated, tamed; No, it can’t. If WanderLust can be tamed, tell me how so that I might keep it on file. Granted, it might go right into the circular file; where many of my things wind up as I head out to my next adventure. But, travel is an obsession for me. Some breathe air, I breathe travel and culture. What is next? Where is next? Who is next? When and when and when and why not now? I know that my thirst will never be quenched, hunger never satiated. Frankly, I don’t know how friends and family have been able to put up with me. I have lived more than half a century and finally have come to terms with the fact that sometimes I have to wait for some things not to be so impatient. It isn’t nearly over yet; my need for wandering has pretty much just begun. I hope to share it with others. I suppose I have been reluctant to delve into the Travel Blog Biz is that I know that it would be nothing more than shooting up, and releasing for the high. Up and down; dangerously down again, just to…Travel Euphoria is Wanderlust. At all times, it must sound silly in this day and age, but I must have, a good backpack and a relatively small wallet with a few hundred bucks, some Japanese Yen, because it helps me sleep, and I have an extra passport (shhhhh), and some other ID. Frankly, it more of a security blanket than anything else. The WanderLust theme and fueling of it? My computer must feel the heft of music, advertisements, as it searches for the best travel deals to anywhere at any time. A hot Cuban babe speaks from my computer telling me in Spanish about all about Cuba’s beauties. My Spanish isn’t what it should be, but I could tell that she was talking about the food, the people, history, the music, the beaches and the rum. I sent off for the free disk last week. If I can muster up a few thousand bucks between now and January, well, I have always wanted to see Cuba. However, a few thousand bucks would go a long way in Central America: Diving, horsing around, Belize would certainly. There I go rambling, again. Though I do love tripping and traveling, I like the cultural exploration that almost always goes with it. Yes, I am due for my next fix soon. However, I am such a hardened fiend that I need an accomplice. I need a travel partner and woman who will be able to share my experiences with me. Travel is more than just picking a spot on the map, getting the compass oiled up, but it is an adventure, as is a fine wine. “Would you like a Cabernet or a Rose or perhaps a Reisling,” a good old trip down the Rhine. Actually, the Riesling sounds good to me, but I would probably prefer a beer on a Thai beach. A Gorhka or Nepal beer in Katmandu wouldn’t be half bad and it is always good for a leisurely hike up one of the hills (none of that serious stuff for me, been there done that). So, maybe you can fathom the need to always have that “emergency” backpack. Oh, it always has to have one or two accoutrements, an extra bit of string, knots, handle of sorts. You got to make it yours; not just so it stands out a bit and you can describe and you can easily grasp it, but take it to heart. My pack and I; Or I guess I should say my packs and I. A different occasion, a different pack: five in all. My Realllllllly Serious Pack that has been to many peaks and many valleys (oh, most of them red like me with a few good places that I can reach to in a pinch, whether camping, hiking or grabbing from falling to a deadly fall in to an Indonesian rainforest, rescuing me or me rescuing it). Yes, love and appreciation for your pack can and will be rewarded. Keep a good knife for that two foot bit of rope you have tucked away in your pack. Take care, it is worth it. It will make that Cabernet, Riesling or a beer on the beach that much better. Being stranded is a Bitch with a capital B if it is in Brazil or Burma. I remember rescuing a pack in Nepal so it didn’t fall to its ruin. Instead, I sunk. I sunk into a giant vat of riper than ripe cow dung. My good camera tucked neatly away, I and my other camera took a bath in cow crap. My second hand camera, I heard the gurgle. I heard it yell out, “Good bye and God bless Mr. Mark.” After a shower and a beer I was off for more photos, which adorn my walls today, thirty years later. My favorite pack, which is also red, is made to pack for a couple of weeks, at least. Towards the end of that journey I might be smelling sort of ripe and looking for a nice shower, meal and shave. But, perhaps I could have discovered a discovery…caviar, Shashlik or Kobe beef! That is adventure and discovery; Ups and downs. Ready set, go!