It’s this time of year that I really start to think about traveling again. I think about the time we hiked up the side of a mountain on a sketchy trail in sandals and ripped up vans—totally against the advice of the man in the Barcelona train station. Who cares? We did it anyway. I think about how we almost missed the train back down the mountain after everyone else had left the little tourist town, and how we were running around the empty streets taking bad pictures and smiling a lot and acting like goofy happy people. I felt completely carefree in that moment, and it’s this time of year when I want to chase that feeling again, although I don’t think it’s something that be entirely sought out. It’s something that happens to you when you let go without even realizing it.