Traveling changes one's life. I'm sure anyone who has done much of it--especially abroad--would agree. There's something about the displacement and discomfort of being in an alien place, coupled with the awesomeness of seeing things you've never seen before and blowing open the doors of any prior conceptions of "what this world is." Travel enlarges one's view of existence.
Traveling is a funny thing. Those who do a lot of it know how addictive and essential it is, and how equally it pulls you with such force away from your mundane, everyday existence but then thrusts you back with sling-like vigor at the end. You always feel like you must “get away” from home when you venture out on some trip, but by the end it is “home” that beckons you, normalcy that grabs you, and a humdrum schedule that enlivens you with its familiar scent of mom’s cookies and newly washed sheets.
