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My college English professor once said that when you are traveling, it is not actually the destination that matters but what occurs along the way.
I’ve always had the travel bug in me – I’ve boarded trains, planes, ships and traveled in automobiles to destinations throughout the world and I’ve concluded that my professor was right.
My favorite part of any trip is that stretch of time spent getting to a particular place.
Aboard a cruise ship, I loved looking out at the huge expanse of ocean and observing the rhythmic, swaying waves. Sitting on a train, I was delighted to look out of the window and watch the landscape speed by.
Even sitting in those gigantic tour buses that scream for miles that a gaggle of tourists are approaching never bothered me.
I am addicted to the anticipation of whatever lies ahead and the open path in front of me with its unlimited possibilities.
Recently I once again indulged in my love for travel on a mini-trip to Salida, Colo., to meet up with a few friends. I’ve driven up that route several times in the past and it is by far my favorite stretch of paved road to meander on.
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