I have been thinking a lot about why I like to travel so much. If someone says, “Do you want to go to…?” my answer is generally, “Yes!” before I hear the destination. The act of traveling is enjoyable to me, even if I have not been wanting to visit that particular destination.

At the beginning of the pandemic, I had to cancel four trips that were firmly planned. I was going to go to the Czech Republic for the first time. I was going to finally visit Montreal. I was going to have another awesome trip with NumberOneNiece which would include a stay in Bonn and a plan to take commuter transportation instead of staying right by my meeting location.

Slowly, as days turned into weeks turned into, “How long will this last?” I realized the rhythm of my life was going to be different. I wasn’t going to travel. I didn’t know when I would get to hit the road again.

And I missed it.

At first, I thought I missed it because of the free wine in lounges at airports. (The spread at the Saga Lounge in Keflavik Airport is one of my favorites. I also love exploring other lounges because each one is different.) The truth is, when I want a fine wine, I can get it here. And I haven’t stopped myself from drinking wine just because there have been many days I haven’t left the house since March 13, 2020.

Then, I thought maybe it was about my company paying for my meals and my hotel rooms and occasionally my wine. I mean, there is a side of me that is super cheap. Anything someone else pays for seems like an added bonus. Looking at the numbers, I spend less when I don’t travel because there are all these unexpected expenses like underwear that didn’t make it into the suitcase. I have a credit card, and I am not afraid to use it – when traveling.

I started to think about journeys and the different phases of a trip and what I thought of them.

I do not like the sensation of flying except for about 5 minutes of every flight when I marvel about the fact that people design, build and maintain these miracle machines.

I do like clean sheets every night. I could do that at home, but I don’t like them THAT much. Hotel rooms are cleaner in my mind than they are in reality. 

I do not like being away from Husband. If I could take him with me for every trip, I absolutely would. Unfortunately, the logistics of life — his job, our kids — makes that impossible. In fact, we are just now starting to think that maybe he could come with me on one of my trips in a few years.

I do like the challenge. I never feel quite so competent as when I go to a new place and succeed in having a successful trip. I pick the hotel. I rarely rent a car. Once, on a trip to Alabama, I flew to Pensacola and took a GreyHound bus for the first time in years. This was not as good an idea in reality as it seemed when I made the plan, but challenges and overcoming them are half the fun. I tried something different and realized it wasn’t the best idea ever. As a bonus, my flight home got cancelled and I got to spend an unexpected night on Pensacola Beach dancing on the sand in the 70s in the middle of January.

This question has been niggling at my brain, and nothing I decided was the reason felt right. 

In all phases of life, restrictions apply. Not just on airplanes. Not just in different lands and in different cultures. The restrictions of my daily life are pretty set. The house I have to keep up. The meals I need to serve. The presents I have to send. When I wake up. When I fall asleep. How it looks if I were to drink too much and walk at night singing a bit louder than I should. (Hi there Stornoway!)

I remembered reading an article once about 20 years ago that traveling has always been a time where women can shed the restrictions of their cultures. Even if you aren’t Paris Hilton, when you travel to another place, another culture, another venue, you experience a level of freedom. The expectations of behavior are different. The execution of a day is different. The idea that I had more options and fewer restrictions started to resonate. When I go elsewhere, I can be someone else.

In my mind, I have fewer restrictions while traveling, so I want to travel. 

The next time I visit the Saga Lounge, I am going to pour myself a class of Cava and remind myself that the restrictions that apply when I am not traveling are the ones I chose. I have agency in my life, and even if I chafe at the boundaries, I know I helped to set the boundaries right where they are.

And then, I will pour another glass and raise a toast the restrictions of travel and the freedom of going home.