Travel as a Goal in Itself

There are a couple of people in my life who, although they retain a nominal home address, more often than not seem to be on the road, traveling to other destinations. One has a calling to the Christian mission field while the other has nuclear and extended family members strewn out all over the country, putting out much time, effort, and expense visiting these and in turn, traveling with some of them to other places.  Both have definite purposes and reasons for their travel, to be sure.  But I can't help but think that there is something intrinsic to the process of travel itself that draws them to it, not just their stated goals. 

I am not by nature a traveler, although destinations are another matter entirely.  For example, I rather dig visiting theme parks and enjoy roller coasters and other thrill rides.  But there aren't any theme parks within 97 miles of my house, although between 97 and 135 miles there are nine (Valdosta's Wild Adventures, Tampa's Busch Gardens, and Orlando's four Walt Disney World parks, Universal's two and Sea World).  But the thought of driving to any of these and back, even to Wild Adventures (the nearest one) is definitely a negative drag on the experience, something that subtracts from my ultimate enjoying and which wears me down.  If I could just step through some interdimensional door and come out the other side into one of these places (similar to how Stephen King's Roland character in the Dark Tower series stepped through such a door on an isolated beach into our world to recruit Eddie for his cause), that would be all right with me.  For I generally disdain the process of travel.  But for those who seem addicted to it, they like it all: the preparation, the packing, the unpacking, driving, flying, going through airports and stations, renting cars, making reservations, driving, riding,... you name it.  No, I don't like to go places, generally speaking.  But there are a lot of places that I would like to BE at, without the hassle of travel...