Reluctant Travelers?

There are two sides to me (ok, maybe more but let’s not focus on my issues). The one who loves to be traveling, seeing new places, meeting new people and experiencing new things. This me writes these pages.

Then there’s the homebody. The one who loves routine. The one who would rather sit and read a book than go out. The one who loves our routine of a plate of raw vegetables while watching the nightly news before dinner. The one who likes to fix things around the house or go to the same restaurant every Sunday for lunch.

After more than six months back in Colorado, homebody David was reluctant (yet simultaneously excited) to hit the road. Much like after nine months in Europe (albeit five of them spent traveling), reluctant David couldn’t imagine why we were leaving Portugal. Near the seacoast, inexpensive and uncrowded golf courses, delicious food, lovely people; why leave?

And yet, here we are, almost two weeks on the road and I’m feeling just as good about being out there, taking in the sights and sounds as I am sitting in my favorite chair at home. We’ve just come across the plains of the Midwest. The first time I drove across Kansas I remember thinking how beautiful I thought it was. People told me they thought it boring, mind numbingly so. But I’ve always disagreed. I’m captivated by rolling hills, corn fields in all seasons, rolled up hay bales in the fall, springs blooms just appearing in bright green new growth or blossoming trees. Even in the bleak midwinter, I’m enthralled by the endless expanse of white. And every time we hit the road I think, “oh yeah, this is why we leave”.