going away

A friend I'm hanging out with from time to time, spending afternoons on excursion through town, taking pictures, chatting and enjoying the coffee of good life, is going away. He's bought a round-the-world ticket with unlimited stops and stitched together an itinerary containing India, China, Australia, New Zealand, Samoa, French Polynesia and Los Angeles – from where he'll fly back to London. This is only the first half of his sabbatical. He also has a ticket to Bolivia with a return flight from Brazil three months later.

I'm an avid traveler, but I'm in doubt whether I would take half a year on the road lightly, especially on a road that covers the world. Living oblivious of the time zone you're in is fine, but you should at least know which continent you're on. The way he travels, I couldn't do it. The never-ending flood of sounds and sight, of impressions and reactions, of memories in the making would probably confuse me completely and drive me nuts. Feebleness of mind would make me give up a few days after surviving the inevitable first stormy stomach of the transcontinental epic.

I'm sure of my response, but sometimes I dream of my own sabbatical anyway. It would be a bit less comprehensive, a bit more focused. I'd love to decamp to South America for a few months, either riding the backpackers' trail on rusty overland buses and connecting with new friends in shady hostels or buying a busted motorcycle and letting the road be my guide. I would keep a diary and might dream of writing a book, though I'd shy away from lighting the fireballs of revolution.

My friend will be gone by the end of the month, but I won't be following any time soon. Long travels require planning, a financial underpinning and, most importantly, a sufficiently strong stimulus to trigger departure. As long as no one kicks me out of my job, I'll stay here. In the meantime, I'm contemplating options for shorter trips, for next year's vacations if things go well. Here is what excites me at the moment.

• Lost in translation in Japan: Everything works and everything moves with unequivocal precision and a sense of natural force, and everything is absolutely incomprehensible and mind-boggling to the average Westerner. I'd like to be awed to complete silence.
  
• Crossing all borders between Andalucía and Morocco: This was a trip I had planned for earlier this year but it fell through. The history of the region, especially the Muslim heritage in Spain, makes it unmissable. For now, all I have is Radio Tarifa.
• Leaving Europe in Napoli: This city, distant from the central government and the commonly accepted rules of Europe, has long enthralled me. They also bake the world's best pizza.
• Feeling history in Palermo: I've come as close as the stunning sea-view airport when I attended a conference in south-western Sicily, but I didn't see this town that's apparently like a diorama of history, with crumbling baroque palaces next to buildings damaged in World War 2 and left to decay ever since.

Anything to add to this?