Traveling is the saddest of pleasures

My new found Italian friend quoted this to me today and I thought it very poetic. Yes, it is a little melancholy but I'm bit of a melancholy person. I feel a raw mix of emotions when traveling: thrilled, excited, tired, exhausted, happy, and yes, sad. I am in Norway and am humbled every time I see the sun rise or set over the sea, when discussing cultural differences with new friends, or when walking down the quite streets of this Scandinavian town. I feel pleasure when I think of the fact that I am in Norway, and I feel lucky that I could be working on an organic farm here. I feel pleasure when I think of all that I am learning and I am satisfied. Even so, sadness starts creeping in when I think of leaving and moving on from this place and I also feel sad when I think of the place that I have left. A jumbled mix of pleasure and sadness. But I wouldn't trade this for the world. I love traveling, I can't imagine not traveling, and I would probably shrivel up and die if I stopped traveling. So I willingly take these emotions of sadness to feel all these emotions of pleasure.