I just got my third passport. At this point, I feel like the U.S. State Department should at least send me a Christmas card.

Each previous passport reminds me of stories that make me smile – something I was actually allowed to reservedly do in my first passport photo. I don’t think I ever set out with a goal of collecting passports, but that’s what happens when you start traveling, and keep traveling, and keep traveling. Eventually, your passport starts looking less like an official government document and more like a travel scrapbook that somebody forgot to put pictures in.

A passport has a sneaky way of encouraging bad behavior. You get one, and suddenly the world feels smaller. You start thinking things like: “Well, if we’re already going that far, we might as well add a few days.” Or: “It’s only another train ride.” Or the particularly dangerous: “I’ve always wanted to go there.” That last one has cost me a lot of money, but it has also given me some pretty spectacular memories.

My first international trips were a long time ago; back when traveling to much of Europe didn’t require an American passport. Yep, I’m old enough to remember international travel before passports were part of the packing checklist and luggage without wheels (WHY did that take SO LONG to be a thing?).

Please don’t do the math. #beggingyouplease

While this is only passport number three, my travel history goes back considerably farther. Looking at this new passport got me thinking about how much travel has changed since those early trips; before passports were part of the routine.

Today, getting ready for an international trip usually includes: Passport? Check. Passport expiration date? Check. Visa requirements? Check. Mobile phone plan? Check. Travel insurance? Check. Electronic travel authorization? Check.

Then…. Download the airline app. Download the cruise line app. Download the hotel app. Download my new amazing Trip Plans app! Download the app for the app.

Back then you just went. There were plenty of things to worry about, but the modern travel ritual of checking your passport six times before leaving for the airport wasn’t one of them, and somehow we survived (the Gen X official motto).

A lot has changed since those first trips. The destinations haven’t changed nearly as much as the way we get there. Air travel has changed. Airports have changed. Border procedures have changed. Travel technology has changed, and let’s not even get started on luggage.

We used to travel with paper tickets. Now we have boarding passes on our phones. We used to unfold enormous paper maps. Now our phones tell us exactly where we are and occasionally insist that a perfectly reasonable road doesn’t exist. We used to be AAA members so we could get their incredible guidebooks (I still am a member, but the guidebooks have sadly gone digital). We used to call hotels in the AAA guidebooks to make reservations. Now we can book a room from our couch in about 30 seconds.

And yet, the best part of travel hasn’t changed at all. You still get on a plane, train, ship or bus and eventually find yourself somewhere different, and that’s still pretty amazing.

Which brings me to passport number three. This one crinkles when I open it. It smells fresh. Its pages are barren. Which is both exciting and a little presumptuous on the passport’s part, because it seems to be assuming I’m done, which obviously, I’m not. It has no idea the work that I have in store for it.

There are still places I want to see, places I want to revisit, people I want to meet and see again, rivers I want to cruise, trails I want to hike, food I want to eat, bears I want to pet (JUST KIDDING!), sea lions I want to swim with (NOT kidding!), and probably a few places I haven’t even thought about yet. That’s one of the things I love most about travel: you don’t have to know what’s next; you just have to be open to it.

So, here’s to passport number three. It may only be my third passport, but it’s carrying a pretty long travel history, and it has a whole lot of blank pages waiting for new stories. I plan to fill them with beautiful places, interesting people, great food, questionable navigation decisions and at least a few adventures that don’t go according to plan.

Because after all these years, I’ve learned that the point isn’t how many passports you have; it’s how many stories you collect along the way (“It’s not a bathing suit if it fits in your mouth”), and I’m hoping this little blue book gets a lot more stories.

Passport number three: you’re on the clock.