Cycling The Road Less Travelled

(Before reading this post, I must ask all potential future employers to skip to the next post please. Really, there is nothing for you to see here. Thank you!)

There was a point last night when Diana, Spiros and I were sitting at the waterhole view point, bundled in our sleeping bags, drinking wine out of plastic mugs and watching six rhino (including a baby) drink at the waterhole. Yet another incredible, completely surreal moment to add to a long list of incredible, completely surreal moments.

This brings me to my point: After six months in Africa, I truly think we’ve lost touch with reality and are completely ruined for life. “What do you mean there is zero chance of seeing an elephant on my way to work? How can that be?! What do you mean I have to settle back into a routine, go to meetings, think about mortgages and try to ‘build wealth’? I’d really rather ride my bike in India.” I’m sure hunger and mounting visa bills will help us get over that hurdle somewhat, but I can still foresee us having problems “functioning normally”. I can see us endlessly flipping through photos, through maps, boring our friends with the same old stories and daydreaming…constantly daydreaming. Absolutely ridiculous, I know. I sound like one of those child stars who eventually outgrows their cuteness, has trouble adjusting, resorts to a life of alcohol and ends up telling their story on some talk show, don’t I? I’m sorry. I have no doubt that we are two of the most fortunate people on earth. I’m really not asking for sympathy here; just making a prediction. I am a greedy one though, I’ll admit it. I do wish this could last forever. There hasn’t been a day since our trip in 2000 that I haven’t thought about that experience. It changed the course of our lives, it “ruined us” forever. Traveling is addictive…and I hope maybe even a little contagious too.