Travel Bug.

"The sea that calls all things unto her calls me, and I must embark." - Kahlil Gibran.

"Bless not only the road but the bumps on the road. They are all part of the higher journey." - Julia Cameron.

"He who never leaves his country is full of prejudices." - Carlo Goldoni.

"The use of traveling is to regulate imagination by reality, and instead of thinking how things may be, to see them as they are." - Samuel Johnson.


It was this time last year that I was back in my hometown, Sunderland, for the first time in seven years. My "seven year itch" trip back to the Motherland and exploration of Europe was a trip that I'd been planning for over a year, and provided two months of fun, exploration and inspiration that only traveling can give you.

Myself and my friend Ashleigh planned a trip around Europe and Morocco together although we hadn't seen each other since I'd moved to Australia, and remained in contact via online chat, emails and phone calls. I suppose that in itself is impressive, and when I did get back to England it wasn't weird to see her.

I stumbled upon a notebook I'd taken with me on our "Suitcasing and Cultural Absorbing" trip of 2010, where Ashleigh had written down the funny situations and characters we met over our four week trip. From nearly giving away her brand new car to an elderly couple in Manchester (she posted the keys through the wrong letterbox), to being followed down a creepy Moroccan alleyway, to being serenaded by American teenagers on Independence Day in a Santorini restaurant that Green Day and Jennifer Aniston have dined in, we had an amazing time.

I loved Paris. I love its attitude, its cosmopolitan chic and Bourgeoisie culture clinging to the city's very walls and statues. I love the arrogance of the French, the prominent sex appeal and the romance; from couples literally drinking wine and eating bread beneath the Tour D'Eiffel to being pressed against a bistro wall on tiny two seat tables watching the world go by, while you inhale the smoke from the next table that seems sexy in France. I love the idea of eating croissant and writing poetry and being truly arty, wanky and deep - but it being entirely acceptable in Paris. Love fills the air in Paris in every way, from the padlocks on the gates overlooking the Seine to the couples canoodling everywhere. I love the optimism of Paris.

I also adored Rome, and being in a city built around its ruins and histories. The Italians have such a charming passion for food: nothing is more important than lunch (though maybe your Mama), and I could happily live on pasta every single day. I love how laid back yet chaotic Rome is. An afternoon can be devoured by a meal, as the Italians work their way through three or four dishes, but in the blink of a second the roads are crazy, the train stations are hectic and the espresso bars are full. Italians know they are sexy and proclaim it in every "Ciao Bella" they scream to every woman as she walks along the street.

Santorini is one of my most favourite places in the world. The most Southern Cyclade island of Greece, it's views of the sunset in Oia are phenomenal and compete with those of Fiji. The caldera is astonishing and every inch of the island is picturesque. The laid back island lifestyle accompanied with friendly Greeks and the always delicious meals doused in feta and olive oil is one I could happily spend more time in. We rested here as our last stop and spent five glorious days reading by the pool, walking along the calm streets of Oia and Thira and drinking Sangria as the sun set over this tiny island. I can imagine Santorini becomes a ghost town in winter, as the tourists go away for the season and the shops close down - the clusters of white buildings and empty pebbled streets would be haunting and old world like.

I loved being home, and returning to friends and family that hadn't changed. We've grown up, but we still get along and it was amazing that 12,000 miles, 7 years and little contact had carried our friendships regardless. I felt accepted and had an amazing time catching up with friends I'd known since I was in nursery school. We'd lived in Portugal for a few years when I was 9, and when I came back at 12 I was once again nestled back into the group of friends without any distance.

It was eerie walking through the neighbourhood's of my childhood and bar a minor detail here and there, not much had really changed. It was all how I'd had it pictured in my mind from when I'd left, when I'd cried for months wishing we hadn't moved away again. The first few months in Melbourne were our family's hardest; I was at an awkward age and moving to Australia was forever, while we always knew Portugal had an expiry date.

I suppose while I walked the streets of my hometown and caught the same buses I had when I was 13, I wondered if I'd have turned out different if I'd never moved away from home. Despite a few differences in interests and hobbies and the change in my accent I think I'd be the same girl regardless, and getting along with my friends so easily was the proof of that.

I finished my two month trip with a few days in London. I hadn't been to London since I was 13 and I was instantly hooked. I love every aspect of England's capital: the anonymity, the rush, the nonshalance. No one cares about you there - no one has time to. I find that oddly accepting. There is no judgment there; every unusual outfit, hairstyle or character becomes a brickwork in the appeal of London. I read an opinion on the city that went along the lines of: "you could be stark naked with fluro pink hair in the middle of a street and no one would bat an eyelid in the city that's seen it all already." I love the shops, the tube, the weather, the Britishness mixed with city cool, the hours I could happily spend wandering through the boroughs will all their different flavours, the shows, gigs and bars that are endlessly available. I want to move there, even if it's not forever. I want to be at least a temporary fixture of London, just another face amongst the ever evolving crowds. I want to lose myself in the big city to find out who I really am.

Simply put, I want to travel.