Walking into the Dune Park Shoreline train station, a seemingly small and insignificant station in rural Indiana, I immediately noticed something. I noticed a stark difference in the people – Tourists and Travelers.
There were those packed with large, bright-colored suitcases, appearing to be ready for a sunny vacation in Florida or the Caribbean with smiles on their faces, excited with anticipation of their destination. And, there were those few who were ready for anything with everything on their back.
I over heard a nearby traveler’s phone conversation, saying in the last week he had been on four flights, and that he needed to be at Versailles in France in two days. I regret not asking him about his life, but I suppose it may have been a little nosey.
I am not saying that travelers or tourists are better. It is simply two different approaches to see the world. At one point in my life, I would have considered myself a tourist, but of late, something has changed in me. There is an immense, unstoppable motivation for my travel – a thrill of adventure and a thirst for knowledge of different cultures. I travel to interact with locals, to try new foods, and to learn other ways of living.
I feel at home on the road. I am more reflective. I am more confident. I am more relaxed. I feel as if the road is my real home.
and with that, to Puerto Rico I go.