What does travel really mean to me?

“I like travel.”

When someone ask me about what I like to do, one of the answers will be this. But to tell the truth, I seldom go travel. So why? Why I like travel?
Recently I have been asked about the reason why I like travel, but I can’t answer it quite well, and this force me to face the question seriously. WHY?

I feel a lot of happiness when traveling out. Especially one time in Kenting, I lied on the lying bench, feeling the soft breeze blew over my face, appreciating the clear blue water, and enjoyed the tranquility in my small space. I felt a great satisfaction at that time. And I think maybe it is that leisure time that makes me want to travel to other places more, and enjoy the fulfilling satisfaction again and again.

Besides, I really enjoy reading travel books. Through the writer’s words, I experience the atmosphere in certain places, and feel the fine of humans, appreciated the beauty of their architecture and landscapes. But I still want to have a visit to the place in person! Therefore, I want to travel.

So, to sum up, I think my original intention about going travel is to feel the happiness of travel, and wanting to experience the different atmosphere of distinct places. But I am challenged again. My teacher questions if the two reasons would be too superficial, and would it be too selfish that we bring a lot of damage and waste to the place I visit? I am totally confused again now. What does travel really mean to me? Maybe it takes time for me to really go on a travel, and finds out the answer by myself.