Are You a Travel Addict?

The other day, I made a comment that I felt like an addict looking to score his next fix, because I began formulating new road trip ideas in my head before we got back home from Tennessee. This morning, I spotted an old post from Nomadic Matt – Top Signs You Are a Travel Addict. I thought it would be fun to copy and paste his list here and see how many criteria I meet.

Nomadic Matt’s Top Signs You Are a Travel Addict

[x] You start all your stories with “When I was in…” Well, maybe not ALL my stories…

[  ] You only TIVO The Travel Channel. Don’t have cable anymore, and I never intend to have it again. Fuck cable.

[  ] You read guidebooks for fun. Reading taxes my aging eyes too much. I watch YouTube travel guide videos instead.

[  ] You plan trips you will never take. Fuck that. The only trips I’ve planned that I haven’t taken are simply the ones I haven’t gotten around to, yet. Unless you count my planned trip to Neptune.

[  ] You always ask people “Where are you from?” even when you know. Even when I know? That’s just dumb.

[  ] You wear flip flops in the shower. I’m not afraid to be barefoot.

[  ] Out of habit, you take toilet paper everywhere you go.

[  ] You have more than one currency in your wallet, just in case. That’s what plastic cards are for.

[x] You keep a packed suitcase handy. I’m all about the “go bag“.

[  ] Your iPod only has songs related to traveling.

[  ] You run multiple travel websites.

[x] You speak in airport codes, not city names. Yeah, but I worked for the airlines briefly, plus I was a GA pilot. All of that predates my trampin’ days.

[  ] You can tell where people have been by the cheesy logos and sayings on their shirts. (Same Same = Thailand, Yellow Star = Vietnam)

[  ] You have elite flyer status on multiple airlines. Flying is my least-favorite way to travel, especially since 9/11. Too much of a nuisance.

[  ] You attend travel conferences multiple times a year. There are travel conferences? Lord almighty, something else for me to blow money on. Think I better remain ignorant.

[x] You don’t have paintings on the wall — you have maps. God, I fucking love maps. I’ve got 21 custom maps on Google already.


This is how I feel whenever I’m “home”.
“I haven’t been on the road in three days! THREE DAYS!!

[x] If you haven’t been anywhere in a few months, you get the shakes. Months? Try weeks. Sometimes even days.

[  ] You spend two hours each day reading travel blogs and travel websites. Not every day. I’ve got haunt shit to do, too. And porn to watch.

[  ] You subscribe to multiple travel magazines.

[  ] When you think of prices, you value things in terms how many days in your next destination it costs. “That TV is 10 days in Paris! Let’s get this one — it’s only 5 days!”

[x] You pretend you are a travel writer. Guess this one is sort of meta.

[  ] Some people voted for Barack Obama; you voted for Anthony Bourdain.

[x] When people ask you about your hobbies, all your answers contain the word “travel.”

[x] Some people cry when they leave home. You cry when you have to go back. God yes.

[x] When people ask you your profession, you say vagabond. I use other synonyms. Vagabond is one of my least-favorite “nomad” variants.

[  ] You filled your first passport before the first year was over. I’m such a poseur. 🙁

[  ] Boots N All is your homepage. Never heard of this site before.

[x] You have trips planned for next decade. No specific timetable, but yes, my existing plans might fill up the next decade. Neither Africa nor South America will happen for at least 4 or 5 years – minimum.

[x] You have Lonely Planet tattooed on your lower back. No, but I do have several travel tattoos.

[x] You write a travel addict post. Well fuck! This one is definitely meta.


The first step is admitting you have a problem. “Hello. I’m Captain. I’m a travel addict.”

All right, so I got 12 out of 30. That’s sort of pathetic. I’ll just assume this is one of those “if you check even one box, you’re a fucking addict” quizzes. I’m sure Matt just thought of signs of travel addiction his own life when he wrote the quiz. Had I written a quiz, I would have asked different questions and – undoubtedly – scored much higher.

What was your score? Share your result in the comments below!

And for a slightly more serious discussion of travel addiction and the science of wanderlust, check out this other article from Nomadic Matt.

And now, for something completely different…

A massive late-winter storm is slamming us right now in Green Bay. The storm started yesterday morning as rain and will continue through to Monday morning. We are already buried under 8 inches of snow and the winds are absolutely bananas, sustained at 30 mph and gusting to 45 mph. We’re expecting upwards of 10 more inches before the storm is over.

Last night, when the rain turned over to snow, I took a picture, posted it on Facebook, and asked Bones and Morgan where were going and when we were living. Morgan responded and said she wanted to go to Costa Rica and stay there until the wedding. I told her I supported the idea and was as deadly serious as I was last weekend when we went to Tennessee. (To be fair, I was pretty sure she wasn’t serious, so I knew my feet wouldn’t be held to the fire on that one!)

But anyway, Morgan and I started a back-and-forth chat on Facebook that lasted almost 3 hours. I am writing about this here only to memorialize this – to make a record I can refer back to and to keep an account of potential developments. But something potentially pretty amazing came out of that chat. I learned that Bones, Morgan, and I might have a lot more in common than I previously thought.

How did I not know this before?

I take for granted that my friends know what my deal is. I’ve been blogging on this website for about two years or so. I’ve been posting updates about my transition and progress on Facebook. I think most of my friends are sick and tired of reading about this shit.

But Bones and Morgan are different. I didn’t even meet them until after I got back from the North American Road Trip, when Kyle introduced us. They never got to witness everything I was doing that led up to that road trip. We didn’t know each other when I was I preparing to retire my law practice. They weren’t following along as I sold my house and began getting rid of all my personal possessions. They didn’t see my posts from out on the road. And while they’ve gotten to know me a little bit since we met last summer, we never really had an in-depth conversation about any of this stuff. Not even last weekend.

Of course, the fact that they agreed to the spontaneous road trip to Tennessee did get my attention. But it wasn’t until I listened to Morgan rattling off some of their thoughts, dreams, and plans that I really began to realize that the three of us are perhaps not so different.

And of course, that elates me. I don’t want to get my hopes up, but there’s a decent chance that we might be able to cooperate and collaborate, and – in a way – continue this journey together. Maybe, maybe not. We’ve got to sit down and have a good long, conversation. I’ve got to bring them up to speed on my story, so they can finally understand who I am and where I’ve come from. And then I need to get a handle on what they’ve got in mind. I’m just so excited about the possibility – no matter how remote – that this could be a thing.

I always assumed I was destined to make this journey alone, unless I went out and explicitly sought another nomad to partner up with. Never in my wildest dreams did I think I might find kindred nomadic spirits within my existing group of friends. At least, not until now.

Fingers crossed! I’ve proposed that we get together for dinner in the not-too-distant future. And I’m told Bones is an excellent cook, so I’m also pretty curious and eager to give that a try, too.

God, Satan, Zeus, Flying Spaghetti Monster, Joe Peschi – whoever the fuck I have to pray to – please let this be a thing. Please let this be a thing. This is the closest I’ve been to having my cake and eating it, too.

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