Is it a pride thing? To say look at me, I’ve been here and I have the photo to prove it.
Is it a financial thing? To say, I can afford to fly business class and stay at a 5 star resort, and you my peasant friend, can’t.
Is it a class thing? To say, we are upper middle class and we take our yearly vacation, and you my poor, lower class peasant friend, don’t.
Is it a self hatred thing? To think, if I move my physical location, maybe I can get away from my internal self. New location, new person.
Have we been brainwashed to think that travelling opens our intellectual capacity or our visual capacity to experience beauty?
Can you stay in one spot and experience genuine psychological and physical transformation over your lifetime? Or must you physically move your being in a nomad fashion, to kickstart this natural evolutionary process.
Sometimes, we go somewhere that has been hyped up in our minds by friends, the media and life in general. You know, the big ones. New York. Paris. London.
And you think, is this all? Is this what everyone’s raving on about?
But you still go back. Because you are convinced that living in New York or Los Angeles is more exciting than living in Toronto, or Melbourne, or anywhere that is a smaller scale cosmopolitan city. You are certain that going to a 7/11 convenience store in Manhattan is more exciting than going to one in Lilydale.
And there’s nothing wrong with that.
Travelling is exciting because it puts us under the illusion that we are not being repetitive. We are attending the same stores, the same supermarkets, only they are not the same. Repetition breeds contempt. Or maybe in some cases, repetition breeds content. It’s your choice.
We use different currency around the world, and speak different languages, and look different, but we are all the same.
Travelling just reminds you that things are different, but the same.