Once I became an adult and started traveling alone or with friends, I realized how much effort went into saving and planning for each adventure, and must admit I've struggled to replicate my parents' traveling routine.

There’s a certain feeling in the atmosphere when you wake up at 2am to catch that 5:00 flight.

The smell of the air, the stillness of the evening as you make your way to the airport and then suddenly, you’re somewhere else entirely.

It is the adventure of getting lost in a foreign land where the language is alien but knowing that the heart and culture of people holds the same warmth and emotions across the globe.

Previously, I thought the more countries I visited, the more fulfilled I would become. However, in recent months I discovered that sometimes, a slower approach to travel is better than rushing through the world.

I am a licensed attorney who, after pushing papers behind a desk for several years, felt that I was not making an impact with my privileged lifestyle or expensive bar license. I left to see the world and give back in any way I could.

I'll be the first to admit there was a season of my life where I was traveling for Instagram. To cross off items on my list. I got caught up in looking for the "top Instagram spots" in a location instead of letting a city reveal its own beauty to me. In a world of perfect travel accounts, it's easy to want to imitate that in hopes of growing your following.

But after awhile, I started to feel empty. I started to feel like there was nothing about my travels that was special and unique to me.

Choosing to travel means you’ve taken a step outside your comfort zone. You left a place where you can identify, immediately understand, and sometimes judge your familiar surroundings.

When I was at University, I didn’t have a huge desire to travel. Friends would head off to Thailand or South America for a summer, and I’d think, “Meh, I’ll just stick with Cornwall”.

Then I had a free year to do anything with before I started work, and I thought I suppose Ireally ought to travel. I booked my one way ticket to Melbourne, Australia, and constantly told family and friends that if I didn’t like it, I’d be back within a couple of weeks. 

I don’t want to bore you with an overused quote, but sometimes it fits the bill. “Once the travel bug bites there is no known antidote, and I know that I shall be happily infected until the end of my life”  – Michael Palin gets it.

My theory is that travel, like all of life, is made up of associations.

I don’t really know anything other than exploring the world bit by bit and I can’t find another explanation for getting the travel bug than via the genes of my parents. Since I was little, my parents took me travelling in a campervan, which allowed me to see a lot of countries at a young age.

One word: diversity. 

The world is a diverse place, culturally and physically. 

My desire to travel first made itself known in school, when learning about countries completely different to my own. Places where people live different lives as a result of their cultural practices, physical surroundings and history.