We travel, initially, to lose ourselves; and we travel, next, to find ourselves… And we travel, in essence, to become young fools again — to slow time down and get taken in, and fall in love once more… to escape into open solitudes, into aimlessness, into the moral holiday of running some pure hazard, in order to sharpen the edge of life, to taste hardship, and to be compelled to work desperately for a moment no matter what…