My plan has always been to travel until I’m not physically able to anymore. I never expected to be sidelined by a lack of motivation. Surprise, I’m only 66 and I’ve lost the travel bug!
I get tired just thinking about the hassle of connecting flights, delays and cancellations, dwindling numbers of air traffic controllers, rude fellow travelers and overcrowded destinations, the sad state of the world, the threat of violence everywhere and being unwelcome in certain places.
I’m astounded by the cost of travel and irritated that as a single traveler I’m often double-charged for rooms and tours. And I’m concerned about getting sick while away (on my last big trip I contracted a bad case of COVID-19).
I spent much of my 30s through 50s traveling for business, often staying in luxury hotels. I’ve tried fast travel (worldwind tours of Europe) and slow travel (month-long stays in the South during the winter), going with groups, with friends or alone. I’ve followed tour guides and freestyled itineraries on my own.
I’ve gone on cruises, biking trips and helicopter tours. I’ve seen all 50 states, many more than once or twice, and I’ve been to Australia, New Zealand, Bali, the Caribbean, Canada, Mexico, South America and much of Western Europe.
I have other places on my bucket list. Occasionally, my interest is piqued at the prospect of going on a cruise to Canada or seeing the spring tulips in Holland. Ultimately, though, these trips aren’t compelling enough to move me past contemplation.
I ended up cancelling the one trip I planned recently. I love the artist Georgia O’Keefe and was looking forward to seeing her museum and home, Ghost Ranch, near Santa Fe. But I booked the trip more because I felt I should travel (and use some credit points before they expired) than that I really wanted to travel.