People often ask me what I want to do when I’m done with college and my response is

simply: “I want to travel.” I want to travel not only to embrace the unimaginable beauty of
different cities that are hidden all over the world, but I also want to use this fascination to learn. I
want exposure to different cultures and lifestyles. I want to be accepted by those who have
completely different backstories from me. I want to fall in love with those people and their ways
of living. That’s what traveling, to me, is for. It’s not only about going on some luxurious
vacation to the tropics, but it’s also about accepting all that the world has to offer. To me, it’s all
just one big adventure. From the minute I start packing a backpack for a twenty-four-hour trip to
California, three hours before I actually have to wake up, to reading a menu in German at a café
overlooking the city of Vienna, I can’t help but think of how unbelievably lucky I am to have
such a strong desire to travel.
From as far back as I can remember, every time my family has had a few extra days in
our schedules, whether it’s from one day off at school or a break from work, we have
unexpectedly packed up our bags and headed to a different state for a few days. We have always
taken advantage of every second we’ve been given to travel. And because of it, now that my
sister and I are in college and more on our own than ever, we strongly live by the idea of
reaching out and grasping every moment we can get to go on an adventure to somewhere
unknown. A few weeks before returning to school for the fall semester, we went out to Portland
for a sisters’ weekend. Unlike most last-minute trips that we go on, this trip had been planned for
a while, but that didn’t eliminate any of the feelings behind spontaneous traveling. It didn’t
eliminate that first day tiredness on a trip, similar to jetlag, since I chose not to pack until the
night before. It didn’t remove that feeling of adrenaline from me when I first stepped onto the
plane, wondering where the trip would take me. And lastly, it didn’t take away the feeling I got
when I finally returned home, knowing that I had changed in some shape or form from when I
had first stepped foot onto the plane that took me away from Minnesota.
Yes, traveling is for fun, and yes, it is to relax, but traveling to me is so much more than
that. It’s the crazy urge deep down in my soul that makes me want to put myself in situations that
I wouldn’t otherwise be in if I hadn’t left home. It’s the ability to remove myself from a stressful
situation that I can’t seem to escape from. It’s the three plus hours in which I sit on a plane and
think over life, wondering if there’s things I need to change about myself. It’s the inexplicable
memories and life lessons I grow from and return home with, knowing no one will ever be able
to relate to them. Traveling allows those who are wanderers to go out and make use of their love
and desire for change. I’ve always struggled to keep people close to me because of this desire. I
have a strong urge constantly flying through me that tells me to branch out, meet new people,
and learn about their life stories. And maybe that urge is ever-growing inside of me because I’m
at that time in my life when I meet new people at University, but I think it’s growing stronger
because traveling has taught me that there is so much more to this world that I haven’t yet been
exposed to. Therefore, everyone should take up any opportunity that is presented to them to go
explore, learn new things, and live a life full of risks and uncertainty.