The more I travel, the more I realize there is no perfect place in this world. Maybe that sounds obvious, but what I’ve noticed that happens is that the more places I visit and find new things I like, the more I notice the lack of those things in other places.
It’s this never-ending game of comparing, never being fully satisfied.
This beach symbolizes that for me- the water is perfect but there’s no sand, so you’re struck with an unsolicited hot stone massage.
Melbourne had it all but was so far from everyone I love. Life in Seoul is so efficient, but quite lonely at times. Toronto is multicultural, familiar but so damn cold in winter. Casablanca has perfect weather, and I lived a privileged 18 hour work week, but I didn’t feel as free walking down the streets there as I have everywhere else I’ve lived. The quality of life in Copenhagen is high and I had amazing friends there but the rain and wind don’t quit. Barcelona is a Mediterranean dream that is being killed by tourism, and low wages don’t help the living situation either.