People who travel a lot talk about getting the itch in their feet to leave on another grand adventure soon after they arrive back from their last one. Never did I imagine one could get the itch before they'd even returned.
I left Budapest Monday morning. It's Wednesday evening. In the last three days I've spent a night in Portsmouth with Alex, gone down to Bristol to see Sofia (and take pictures of some fantastic street art), and travelled with Sofia to Cardiff for the day. That means in three days I've been in three countries (if you include waking up in Hungary).
Budapest was the most incredible place I'd ever been. It was the first country thus far on this trip that felt like a different country, the first place I did/saw something I never in a million years thought I'd do (touched the Danube River), the first place that lit my imagination on fire, the first place I was depressed to leave, and apparently the first place to truly ignite my wanderlust.
As I find myself leaving my third country in three days (Wales), I can't help but feel unfulfilled by the idea of three weeks in the UK followed by months in the states (with 4 days in Barcelona, but still). Budapest gave me the itch - the itch to explore places absolutely nothing like my own country; places people suggest against or don't even think of to start with; places like Bali, Thailand, India, Turkey, Ecuador, Costa Rica...
Before I left for München and Budapest, Mike (Alex's dad) turned to me and said, "We'll miss you, you know. It won't be the same without you." To which I replied, "Yea, but I'll be back in like a week!" His response was more accurate than I could ever have imagined. "True. But you won't be the same, will you?"
No, I won't be the same. Not ever.
