Wanderlove

To travel is to live said H. C. Anderson.  His eternal words caught my eye and captured my heart in the Nobel Museum in Stockholm, Sweden.  After spending four engrossing hours in the small three room museum these words described my then current thoughts exactly.   I feel confident that H. C. Anderson and I would have been friends on facebook and I certainty would have followed his blog and perhaps his tweets as well.

I've alway appreciated quotations, particularly concise quips that read like a poetic mantra by which to live.  The 42 country stamps in my passport attest to the comings and goings of a self-proclaimed global citizen. But a victim of wanderlust?  Hardly.  This oft-diagnosed condition may cast an inaccurate reflection of the intentions of a well-seasoned traveller.  I'm not dealing with high school crushes anymore--I'm in wanderlove.  Love makes the world go round and so does an overnight bus to Oslo, Norway.  Perhaps, travel is like summer camp for adults: an opportunity to make new friends, learn new skills, and be in love with languid humid days.  This isn't my first trip and won't be my last as a traveling bon vivant.