Fernweh is what the Germans call that longing for faraway places, the poetic certainty that things are better elsewhere. For me, there is a superlative degree of geographic desire, a Fernweh even more sublime for those places on the map marked "Here be dragons".
When the American writer Jack Kerouac tried in 1951 to find the words to convey his wayward journey through the United States and Mexico, he commanded a typewriter and a massive stash of Benzedrine. After a few weeks, the first draft of On the Road was completed. I'm not Jack Kerouac and my poison is Diet Coke and coffee rather than Benzedrine, but here is where I've been and where I hope to go.