I love everything about traveling – even the inevitable aches that arise from long, uncomfortable bus trips and missing home. I’ll travel until I’m old and gray, but I make a horrible tourist. I don’t use a travel guide, I don’t snap pictures of myself in front of iconic landmarks, and I never buy souvenirs. To put it bluntly, I don’t need neat tick marks on a “Must-Do” list, digitalized memories, or a bag stuffed with knickknacks to prove that I went somewhere, that I did something. In all honesty, I don’t much like to do anything. I’m perfectly happy to just be – to walk down random streets and talk to strangers, to eat street food against the advice of others (and better judgment), to never know what or where the next day will bring
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