I want to get away. Preferably somewhere far away and for a relatively long time. Perhaps Oceania, New Zealand, Patagonia or Chile. Somewhere I have never been and definitely different from anything I have seen before.

I see all these people behind the accounts on Instagram. They never stop exploring places unknown. They eat exotic foods and fruits. They take pictures of waterfalls, temples or interesting nature forms. They sit on top a mountain or dive into the sea to swim with the fish and turtles.

They are living the life, one might say. And I am sure they are in many ways. At least the one I long for. But it looks far away. Very far away.

Perhaps, this is the reason that someone who is not so necessarily stuck into one place feels that it is not enough. All the travels within Europe are not enough. If anything, they make me even want more. Every trip is different. Every city, even within the same country is a new wonder.

Travel springs out of necessity or curiosity. There could be other reasons, too. But these two proved to me to be the primal ones. But whatever the reason travelling brings way more than people invest in it.

Every time my trip ends, I catch myself thinking of the next one. Every time I return home, I start longing for the time I’ll leave again. It is a never-ending loop. And it hurts when you have nothing planned ahead, just as it hurts a bird prevented from flying.

For the first time in many years, there is no next trip planned. Everything that comes will be simply on a whim, a sort of spontaneity. And I don’t like it. Not even a bit. But like everything in life, it all comes in good times. I want to get away, but until then, I have Instagram and my memories.

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