Travel changed me. It dug its way into my mind and set harbour in my soul. I was no longer who I was before I took the leap. Before I shoved my possessions into a backpack and swung it over my shoulder. Travelling grew my vision. It developed my heart and soul, expended it towards a greater understanding of life. The world was no longer a place that preached caution. A place of do’s and don’ts. It became a place that cradled me and that nursed me, not to conform, but to a new form. It was a vast space of endless opportunities. 

 

Travelling changed my definition of home. But I didn’t know that until I was back among the regularities and comforts of it, mum’s cooking flirting with my nostrils. And don't get me wrong: it was good - it was great - to sleep in my own bed once again. The silence in my room so familiar that it made a sound of its own somehow. But soon enough it came: the itching, the twitching, the need for fresh air, for the sound of waves crashing against the shore. I missed who I’d been on the road. The stillness that came with waking up on a shoreline, mystified by the beauty of what lay before me. I missed enjoying a beer with a stranger that had suddenly become a friend. To find an over-used map in my bag that I felt obliged to keep for some reason. It was strange missing this person, because in the end, that person was me. It was then that I realised: travelling changes home. Not for better or worse, but because with each little village discovered and uncovered, you also discovered and uncovered a part of yourself. You were born anew, and before you left, you took a little piece with you. 

 

Travel changed my vision. It flipped the coin, gave me the other side. What I’d taken for norm was suddenly just one more way of doing things. I understood what was previously misunderstood. I grew, my vision sharper than ever before. 

 

Travelling changed the way I love. Love was no longer an end goal. It was souls arriving, meeting, departing. It was seeing myself in someone else. Hearts beating as one for a while, or perhaps forever. But it was no longer the need to be loved. To have someone fill a space in my world that I didn't even know was empty. Meaningless encounters. Flesh against flesh. Through travelling I realised that love comes in many shapes, all of them beautiful in their own way. 

 

And finally, travelling changed my appreciation for things, big and small. For coming home, for leaving, for a warm shower, my mum’s smile. For friendships that remain unchanged. For kind strangers. And for everything else in between.