Book Your Travels: How Reading Fuels Wanderlust

I have a confession. I was a complete and utter nerd as a kid, always happiest with a stack of books under my arm. Long before my first airplane ride, I was already traveling the world of my imagination: Exotic British India from The Jungle Book and Rikki-Tikki-Tavi; braving the wintry Catskill Mountains with Sam in My Side of the Mountain; traipsing through the misty moors of Victorian England with Sherlock Holmes. When Ancient History class opened up to me the civilizations of the Egyptians, Aztecs, Greeks and Mayans, I dove headfirst into those ancient worlds. Without photographs, my imagination was free to fill in the details. When I was around 13 or 14, we went on a budget holiday to Cancun. I begged my parents to take me to the ancient ruins of Chichen Itza and they happily indulged. I still remember that jalopy of a Volkswagon Beetle we rented for the two hour drive. It was so hot, I wasn’t quite sure whether the wind (courtesy of the manual roll-down windows) was a blessing or a curse. There was no air-conditioning and the anemic radio only got Spanish AM stations. But none of that mattered, for was I about to see a place that I had only read about, one that existed, until then at least, only in my head. Climbing the impossibly narrow stairs of El Castillo, and standing in front of the ball court, the altars and the Sacred Cenote where human sacrifices were made turned all […]