We’ve become quite used to the idea that “home” is wherever we are for the night. Be it a hotel room, campground, cruise stateroom, or even a couch surfing host’s home, we regularly begin our sentences to one another with, “When we get home tonight…” And it’s been that way throughout our relationship – not just since our year ‘o travel has begun. We learned a long time ago that home is not defined by the roof over our heads.
People are another story. When we first became homesick traveling through Europe (please take note that I became homesick before Elliott, if it scores me any points), it wasn’t for the home we had lived in, but for the people we love. If we could take friends and family with us everywhere we travel, we would definitely do it, but obviously that’s not super practical. Even if money and time allowed for all involved, you’d probably get really sick of us dragging you everywhere, not to mention how difficult it would be to find couch surfing hosts for us and 50 of our favorite people at one time.
I guess no matter how much we enjoy travel and meeting new people, we constantly find ourselves wishing our loved ones were with us to see each new thing we see. And since that wasn’t quite possible, stopping back “home” for a few days was definitely in order. After a huge group outing to the Renaissance Faire, brunches and lunches and dinners and barbeques with close friends and family members, games of tag and playing at the park with nieces, and TONS of intense small group political debates, we found ourselves feeling quite rejuvenated and ready to take on a huge road-trip across this great country of ours.