An Attack of Wanderlust

Have you ever had one those: a wanderlust attack? I don't have them often, but at least once a year my packing urges grow intense, and I find myself perusing travel bargains.

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I've been struck by such an attack.

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Now the trouble starts.

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Do we drive to the California coast and join the multitudes at the beach? Or might we head north to the Grand Canyon for some rim-viewing reverie? Could it be we'd be happier jumping on a plane and flying the friendly skies to ... where? New York? San Francisco? Seattle?

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There are no clear answers just yet, no anecdote for what ails me. I wish there were, something like Niquil or Aspirin. But alas I am not hopeful. These attacks either have to run their course, or set one.

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Funny thing: all this fuss isn't always followed by an actual trip. Sometimes it remains in vision mode on the back burner of my life until next week, or next month, or next year, when once again I begin staring at my suitcase with longing.

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We ARE planning a Europe junket this Fall, taking in Dusseldorf, Germany (where a trade event for hubby's business will take place), followed by a jaunt to Stockholm, Sweden (where's hubby's company is located). Either coming or going we hope to extend a week and make our way through Wales and/or Ireland. It's not a firm plan as yet, but it's coming together with a small measure of certainty.

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That just might cure the wanderlust for awhile. .
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