I was born with an urge to roam. It’s innate. When someone like myself decides to go gallivanting around the world alone, the idea didn’t come out of nowhere as if I were struck by lightning. It was a decision that culminated from the escapist urge that’s always been brewing, churning and growing inside me. I started slow; tentatively. I dabbled. I felt the rush. And then a longer trip, a farther trip, a riskier trip, and I was hooked.