Addictive Traveling

Go ahead, take a bite of Korea. Mmm, doesn't that taste good?

Ju Suk, who I met on the weekend, has lived all over the U.S, China, England and is currently studying economics, on a full scholarship, in Scotland. He's trilingual. The only question for him is: what country's next? We discussed the addictive nature of traveling.

I detailed my arrival in Korea. I was on a high. The first few mornings, I jerked awake. My senses were assaulted by the newness of stacked stores, color, noise pollution, wafts of street food, neon signs, go go dancers and multi-lane traffic.

I spent my first day walking around, dazed, curious as the schoolgirls who cornered me in a washroom, demanded to touch my blond hair and know where I was from.

As a kid, I benefited from my Father's impulsiveness. He whisked Mom and I off to France, Holland, The Bahamas, Venezuela, but it's his road trips I recall fondly.

I remember nestling into a foggy 4AM car one morning. Mom, my Nana and I drifted asleep as Dad drove. We were headed to Boston but when I awoke, our car was parked outside The Whitehouse in Washington D.C.! When Dad reached Boston, he decided to keep going.

I grew comfortable in Montreal, as a University student. But the four year old is back: the one who slumped in her seat when we rolled into the driveway, the one who pouted, "but Daddy, why go home so soon?"