We arrived and fell in love with the small town. We fell in love with its beaches and food and sun and rhythm and lifestyle. We slowly adapted and settled into a new routine. We thought we had everything we needed. We thought it was everything we were looking for. And when the want for novelty surfaced, we’d pack a bag and explore the area. The ruins. The other beaches. The pyramids. The other towns. New swimming holes. New restaurants. And then happily returning “home”. We slept well. We ate well. We lived well. And then we got greedy.
Why stay here when we have the liberty to go elsewhere, see even more? What if there are even better places? Smaller places? Cheaper places? Should we be experiencing more novelty, or at least try to? If we’re truly free, we should be moving around. If we’re truly traveling, we should see new places, constantly. Is this place culturally rich enough? We’re here, might as well see it all, right? So we gave in to our greed.
We packed up. Too many bags. We weren’t supposed to move around much. But no turning back now, we’ve got bus tickets and endless possibilities. So dragging our belongings along the coast, North and South, and across borders is what we chose. We found better places, smaller places, cheaper places. We experienced novelty and freely made decisions every day. Maybe we didn’t stay put long enough to truly see the cultural richness of most places. But we were caught up in our greed. And we were loving it.