One of the first volunteers I shared my room with and with whom I spent nights at the front of our hostel talking with beers and cigarettes. One night she told me, as she was explaining to me all the different places she went to and still wanted to go to how sometimes, her mind was going places faster than her feet allowed her too. She said this as she tapped her feet to the floor and let out a sigh of frustration that I think the wanderlust crowd knows all too well.
ps : sorry Chiara if i misspelled your name in the book ! Hope you won't take it wrong :-)