Love for travelling

I think I was born with a little piece of my heart permanently packed inside a suitcase.I have always loved travelling—not just because of the places, but because of the person I become when I am somewhere new. There is something magical about leaving behind the same roads, the same walls, the same routine, and waking up to a completely different view.

I love that feeling when the journey begins. The bags are packed, the playlist is ready, snacks are somehow already disappearing, and everyone keeps asking, “How much longer?” even though we just left.For me, travelling has never been about collecting photographs. It is about collecting tiny moments.

The roadside tea that somehow tastes better because it is cold outside. The random shopkeeper who tells you a story about the town. The mountains appearing suddenly between two roads. The smell of rain in a city you have never visited before. The stranger you will probably never meet again but who makes you laugh for five minutes.I love trains for the same reason. There is something beautiful about watching the world change outside the window. Buildings slowly disappear, then fields arrive, then hills, then unfamiliar towns with names you have never heard before. You sit there doing absolutely nothing, yet somehow feel like you are experiencing everything.Travelling also teaches you how little you actually need.

You can spend an entire day with one backpack, a bottle of water, a phone with 12% battery and absolutely no idea where you are going next—and somehow that becomes one of your favourite memories.

And then there are those places that stay with you long after you leave.Sometimes you return home physically, but a part of you remains somewhere on that road, standing under a different sky.

I think that is why I love travelling so much. It gives me stories I could never create by simply staying in the same place.Every journey changes something. Sometimes it makes you appreciate home. Sometimes it makes you want to see more of the world. Sometimes it simply reminds you that life is much bigger than whatever problem seemed enormous before you left.I want to see snowy mountains, quiet villages, crowded streets, ancient temples, beaches at sunrise, forests covered in mist and cities that never seem to sleep.

I want to get lost in places where nobody knows my name.I want to sit somewhere far away and think, “I can’t believe I actually made it here.”Maybe that is what travelling really means to me.

Not escaping life.Just stepping outside of it for a little while, so I can return with new memories, new stories, and a slightly different version of myself.

And honestly, I hope my suitcase never stays unpacked for too long.