Ten years ago, my wife and I decided to semi-retire and hit the road, living full-time in a large RV and traveling throughout the U.S. and Canada for much of the year. This month we complete that journey and return to the stability of a house in a place.
We recently watched the film Nomadland, a story about people who live in vans and cross the county doing odd jobs and living more or less off the grid. Most of the characters were desperately poor and driven by heartache and ghosts from their past.
We were not so afflicted.
Yet, the film brought home to me how much I will miss our travels. I will miss the beauty of stunning landscapes highlighted by the glint of morning sunlight, the subtle and not so subtle cultural differences this granular form of travel reveals, and the tapestry of wines and cuisines that make the U.S. a vibrant taste culture. Most of all, I will miss the expectation that around the corner there is something I have never seen. This is a remarkably powerful and inspirational expectation that has sustained me through this decade of perpetual motion and the occasional hardships that entails.
To be honest, I’m not sure a life of stability and ease will cover over the wanderlust. I suspect it will remain a gleaming gem-like fire that sits in the heart nagging me with the thought there is still too much unvisited.