I went this morning to the Container Store in order to get some stuff for my father-in-law for Father’s Day. He’ll be taking a 1-week vacation to Santo Domingo for the July 4 week, and we figured we’d get him his own set of Eagle Creek packing cubes. Lucky for us, the store is having their annual Travel Sale, and the cubes came out a lot cheaper than I had anticipated.
While I was in the travel aisle, picking out which cubes to get him, it hit me, like a meteor hurling towards Earth: I want to travel again. I was filled by an overwhelming feeling of running out the store, speeding up to the airport (stopping by my wife’s job to pick her up first), and getting on the first plane to Europe I could find. Knowing that I can’t do that, my eyes watered for a moment, and I felt so chained.
My wife and I were talking yesterday that we were both filled with a strange and sudden desire to travel to Israel. It’s not something we can do at the drop of a pin, but we spent all the afternoon IM-ing back and forth about it. The travel bug’s in the air, and there’s nothing we can do about it.
Right now I gotta go home and get ready for Shabbat, but I am already counting the days until we can start planning our (possible and hopefully) next trip to Benelux next year. Until then, our photo albums from the Transfiguration Tour and the Rick Steves DVDs will have to do.