Click, click, click. Within a span of minutes I opened up 15 tabs of a multitude of events, attractions, and destinations in cities I have never been to. London. New York. Sydney.
I vicariously went to these cities through online browsing. I wandered through dry cobblestoned streets with imaginative boots clacking at every step. I peered into a high tea cafe, faintly hearing a small bell chime at the prop of the door. I ordered the top customers’ favorite and thought to myself.
Is it possible to love something we have never experienced?
For materialistic items, yes. Most of us have probably yearned for and envisioned how a latest gadget would make our lives better. For cities, the answers are a bit more complicated. Cities are subject to change due to the things around them such as people, weather, and our own experiences. What we see of a person’s experience in a city on a pixelated screen may not reflect our own experience in the same city.
The fact that I have never loved a city that I have been to intimidates me. It prompts for more questions. Will I no longer care about these cities once I experience them? Is it simply a sense of adventure and curiosity that drives me to spend hours staring at screen, wishing I did not have to rely on lenses of the internet? Is it simply a case of wanderlust?
The origin of wanderlust treks back to German Romanticism and commonly meant an enjoyment of wandering. Though word Fernweh ("farsickness") replaced wanderlust in modern German, the latter is still frequently used today in English to describe a strong desire to travel. The feeling that I am trying to convey bears more sentiment than a craving for adventure.
I believe that this indescribable feeling lies somewhere between wanderlust and love. The first term cradles a sense of awe mixed with curiosity. The latter term stands more closely with acknowledgement and acceptance. The two both result in experience.
In a few months' time I will be standing in an airport terminal with a pale white ticket in one hand and a pitch black backpack in the other. The ticket will read in capital letters "SYDNEY, AUSTRALIA".
I do not know what the outcome of the trip will be. I might come back bearing stereotypical touristy memorabilia and carrying a feeling of hashtag blessed and satisfaction. I might come back feeling as if I left a part of myself behind in the foreign city. What I will have, most likely physically depicted in the form of pictures, are newly found experiences. I cannot speak for the content of the experiences, but I do hope that they may answer some of the questions I have.
