It's an itch that won't go away. A craving that isn't satisfied. A dream not fulfilled. To experience living away from the city and suburbs of Philadelphia has been something I always knew I would do. As someone who explores all options before making an informed decision, choosing to take a year off from "life as I know it" to travel has been an evolving process. I am lucky enough to have a best friend and significant other who, from day 1, dealt with my ramblings of the experiences to be had away from home, and I suppose it grew on him too. Kent decided this was a way we could see the world, grow individually as well as together, and have stories to tell future generations. In his words, he's "ready for an adventure" so count him in!
Initially, we were not attracted to the idea of "backpacking," the word conjuring up images of college kids lugging packs big enough to hide another human, partying all night in European clubs, and passing out too drunk to care that the hostel bed has no linens. We definitely enjoyed our time in college, but having "real" jobs and the necessary funds, we became acquainted with the joys of sharing a bottle of wine while enjoying a three-course dinner at a four-star restaurant, or sleeping in one's own bed surrounded by down pillows and 600 thread count sheets. How could we ever survive without a whole closet of clothes to choose from and the rest of our worldly possessions? I guess you can conclude that after months of hearing stories from traveling friends and researching possibilities to no end, the idea grew on us. Here begin our adventures searching for that missing ingredient.
