I’ve always adored words. As a child I was a voracious reader, wholly absorbed in well-crafted writing that took me to different worlds. Then I discovered travel. New terms entered my vocabulary, like ‘travel junkie’, ‘gadabout’ and ‘peripatetic’.
However, these frequently used descriptions for people who love to travel don’t really capture the many different states experienced by those for whom travel is as essential as breathing. What about words that express feelings of contentment, obsession, homesickness or fear of entering somewhere new, brought on by travel? There are words for all of these emotions and more. Now is the time to discover the joy, excitement and uncertainty of exploring yourself and the world through words…
HODOPHILES
People who love to travel are often said to be struck by wanderlust, but they may well just be hodophiles. This ancient Greek word simply means ‘One who loves to travel’ and those who are one, know it.
RESFEBER
There are many different types of traveller, the pack-at-the-last-minute person, the free-wheeling, book-onthe- run type or the list-makers, like me. Weeks before I embark on a new adventure I start to compile a list of things to take, clothes to wear and a book to read before turning in at night. I’m always thrilled to go somewhere new but worried I’ll forget something vital. I’m experiencing what the Swedes call resfeber, being both nervous and excited before going on a journey. It’s not until I board the plane and they cross-check the doors that I completely relax.
CODDIWOMPLE
For some people, after a particularly long and trying day, getting in their car and going for a drive someplace, anywhere, it doesn’t matter, is a reward in itself. A bit like the idea that it’s the journey that’s important, not the destination. This way of travelling is perfectly captured by the word coddiwomple. It’s English slang meaning to travel purposely somewhere, when the destination is unknown and secondary to the pleasure of just being on the move.
SOLIVAGANT
Once upon a time the only people who travelled alone were saints on spiritual pilgrimages, business people or those in search of their own personal holy grail. These days it’s very common to take off on solivagant travels. Derived from Latin, solivagant is an adjective and means travelling on one’s own, usually a lot. What it names is so popular now that books on solo travel have their own shelf in bookshops and online guides and magazines are bursting with listicles and handy tips on getting out there on your own. What they don’t usually cover is how rewarding it is to take on the world by yourself and how easy it is to make friends along the way.
DROMOMANIA
Frequent flyers might be horrified to learn their quest to accumulate as many points as possible by flying as often as they can could be understood as evidence they suffer from dromomania. Historically dromomania was a psychiatric condition causing the sufferer to wander aimlessly, walk without direction or travel unceasingly. The condition was first identified in France in the nineteenth century and was often associated with criminal compulsions. However, as long as you remember where you’ve actually been, you don’t need to worry—it doesn’t affect you. This mania is considered a form of impulse control disorder and forgetting you’ve travelled at all is one of its main symptoms. Maybe limit the number of drinks you have on the plane though, just in case.
ONISM
While many words associated with travel come from early language families, some, like onism, are twenty-first-century additions, coined to describe emotional states we’ve all felt but been unable to name. It comes from The Dictionary of Obscure Sorrows created by John Koenig and acknowledges how little of the world we’ll really experience in our lifetime. No matter how many bucket lists we write or interactive maps of countries and cities we’ve been to we share on social media, the world will always be an enormous, wondrous place full of extraordinary things we’ll never get to see or do. That’s part of the allure of travel, in my book.
NOVATURIENT
Although I didn’t know it at the time, when I began to travel it was because I was feeling novaturient. Latin for desiring to change or alter one’s life in a powerful manner, it’s what motivated my decision to go to Europe for the first time. I believed being exposed to new cultures, tasting strange foods and hearing other languages would markedly reshape my life in some meaningful and portentous way. It did all this and more, teaching me it’s also necessary to travel into oneself to effect difference.
HIRAETH
For some people, the best part of going on a holiday is coming back home. Being away too long makes them yearn for family and friends. They tire of the unfamiliar and want the comfort of the known. However, this assumes it’s possible to return to a particular home or that it even existed in the first place. In the Welsh language, the word hiraeth, defined as homesickness or nostalgia, describes the ache a displaced person might have for a home they will never enter again, or the imaginings of an individual for a past that never really was.
SCHWELLENANGST
Of course, not everyone is imbued with a love of travel. The idea of crossing a threshold, either metaphorical or physical, seems overwhelming and too terrifying to even contemplate, let alone enact. The German word Schwellenangst, literally meaning a fear of doorways, sums this up perfectly.
Given the state of the world now, I wouldn’t be surprised if we all suffer from a bit of angst when we start to travel again. Yet worry is just a form of energy. It’s what we do with the energy that counts. Now you can embrace the frisson with the exact word to sum up how you feel and take the path that’s right for you. Bon voyage!
WORDS: Lisa Morrow
This article was originally published in Issue 19 – Awakening. You can purchase this issue and enjoy more enchanting content here.
