A glass of wine at the gate

A glass of wine sitting with the sunset

feeling sad despair and alone

looking for comfort and thinking of the trip, the people met, the cities visited, all gone after coming home.

The missing feeling of the new, of the excitement goes away by being back.

Hello routine, good morning cooking, good night to laundry.

The thrill is gone and the adrenaline has disappear from the body.

Looking forward to going away to take the plane to drink a glass of wine at the gate.

All the joy of traveling

the rush of the unknown

the curiosity of the new

the adventurous fear of seeing new things, new places, new faces

To travel is to learn

Travel is life for me

The monotonous setting is death.