I once consider myself a "sheltered" Southern Californian, sheltered in the sense that up until two years ago my idea of travel was a 32 hour drive down to Mexico every year to see my grandparents (Ixtlan del Rio, Nayarit & Villa Hidalgo, San Luis Potosi; respectively). Granted anyone else see's that trip as notable, it really loses it spark when you do it once or twice a year, every year since you where born. Lately the more and more I reflect upon my time there, the more my opinion has began to change. A sentiment I'll save for later.
What else was there, Vegas? That was only a stones throw down the highway. Phoenix? I spent my most of my 3 days indoors because it was so friggin hot, I hardly remembered outside. I pretty much was in my own little box.
But, it was two years ago where my friend and I simply said "screw it" and bought a pair of tickets to Chicago. Since, the urge to see out what else was out there led me across the country, until finally, a catalyst was lit that would send me across the Pacific for the first time!
After a year saving, a ton of hype and anticipation, my butt finally boarded on to what was one of the most brutal 18 hour treks of my life, but hey, at least there was plenty of leg space. Southwest/Delta fliers you feel me??? Although, not exactly enjoyable by any stretch of the word, it got me to point B. Soon enough though, I arrived. Finally.
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