You are living in a bubble of your own creation. We all are. I live inside a bubble with my flat, my job, my gym membership, my family and friends, my fondness for red velvet cupcakes, and my absolute addiction to Game of Thrones. Everything that makes our world go round we put in our bubbles, from the smallest guilty pleasures to the pillars of our existence.
But there’s a problem with the bubble: it’s invisible. Shut yourself inside for too long and you’ll shut out the beautiful with the terrifying. They’re often one and the same.
Travel is a good way to leave the bubble. But where is the adventure in strict itineraries, predictable hotel rooms, and everything going exactly as planned?
Give me half-baked schemes, spontaneous road trips, and one-way-tickets. Shake my core, shock my system, and make me do the thing I didn’t even know was on my bucket list until I’ve crossed it off. Take me on a trailblazing trip that will make me forget about home before it chews me up and spits me out.
Burst my bubble. Then I’ll never forget it’s there. And coming home will be that much sweeter.