There’s a feeling that hits me every time I travel that reminds me why I travel.
It happens early in the trip, usually within a few hours of landing at the airport.
You see, I love the jolt I receive when I first click “BOOK” on a flight to an uncharted destination. I swell with anticipation and wish I could pack my bags and depart that minute. But then I return to real life, focus on my many responsibilities at home, and struggle to regenerate that jolt of excitement. During the days leading up to a vacation, I rarely get the chance to think about it because I must complete a bunch of last-minute errands. Even when I get on the plane and land in a new city, I feel eager but also sluggish from the long flight.
Then I escape the airport and head to wherever I’m going, and soon I arrive upon some spot — a vista, building, monument, or special site – that freezes me with its power and beauty. I stop mid-conversation or mid-thought to savor the moment, and I instantly think (sometimes out loud): “Wow … this is cool. This is why I wanted to come here.”
It happened again Sunday, roughly two hours into my current travel experience: a three-week trip to cover the Olympics in Rio de Janeiro, Brazil.