A woman is different from a girl in so many ways.  This post is an attempt to portray the difference between a Girl Traveler, who is described in this post and a Woman Traveler, who is described below.

The Woman Traveler

She is wise without being arrogant. She has seen Easter in more than one time zone and has been moved by the olive branches—real and metaphorical—passed between people and cultures.  She can be still.  She sees you because she has seen so much else.  She is patient with you: she knows what it is you are saying because you do not need words to say it.  She speaks without language, she refuses to give up her sense of humor, she is often misunderstood.

She lives to enrich her mind, and often travels not because she wishes to make a name for herself, but because the land and the home in which she was born were so generous as to give her a bigger heart and a broader mind than she could ever have expected, ever hoped for.  Her wish is not for fame or notoriety.  Her globe-trekking may take her only across the state or just across the border, but it isn’t distance she seeks—it isn’t to run, to escape or flee that she travels.  Travel seeks her out and she follows its call.    Nearly everything she does feeds her steady, passionate curiosity.  She undertakes adventure the way many women undertake a new handbag: with pride and perhaps a bit of expense.  She will not drag you to a club or a seedy bar or an overpriced restaurant.  She does not try to prove anything by being on the move.  You can rely on her passion for life to lead you both into the most rewarding adventures and acquaintances.  Not everything she does is amazing.  She is human and seeks companionship.  A woman who travels is often lonely, looking for friendships but understanding the reality of maintaining them, really nurturing them, is far beyond her, and a true like-minded man such as yourself is what she is really in need of.

A woman who travels is ready to board a plane or a train or a shuttle bus without being hindered by the laundry list of supplies she doesn’t have with her.  She may not be able to sleep on the plane or the train or the shuttle bus, but she knows that that is part of the experience, part of the journey.  Everywhere she is is exciting and that is because she is with you.  She comments without being asked, and often perceives the world so differently, so entirely differently from you that you catch your breath—and find yourself wondering how you could have seen the world so plainly before you met her.  She is the color and the texture of your travels.

She wants your point of view.  She needs your eyes to help her discern what it is she is doing, and why she is doing it.   She is sometimes afraid, despite what she says, or how she acts, or what she has done in the past, and your presence helps ease that fear.  She is not trying to outdo you.  She wants to share.  She is longing to put the foundations of her experiences into form, to build something with the bricks of her journeys, the collected windows of her travels around the world.  Her hair and her skin and her wardrobe are afterthoughts, but come to think of it, everything about her fits together.  She is comfortable in her own skin, her unbrushed hair, her simple wardrobe.