I can hardly believe it
but here I am back in my little house, snuggled under my duvet with
which I have been gratefully reunited, after one month of three
countries, fifteen different places and near on different beds every
night. I wasn't sure how I was going to take to travelling. I was
worried that I was going to feel unsettled, that what usually gives
me peace of mind is the things around me but the reality couldn't
have been further from the truth.
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| The bay in San Sebastian |
Certainly I'm glad to
be reunited with a wardrobe full of clothes that I haven't
painstakingly hand-washed in the hotel sink. Having proper English
tea available 24/7 again has made me slightly giddy with glee but the
experience of having only what I can carry and dragging out the same
old pair of shorts day after day was oddly freeing. There really are
no distractions from what is going on right there, where you are.
Your options are limited in material things but wide open in
experiences.
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| Me and my trusty bag for the month |
And there were plenty
of experiences to be eyes wide open for. The vast range of cultures
as you travel north to south across Europe, the depth of history that
my secondary school 'tudors and a bit about the world wars' education
didn't even touch, the different lives we encountered lived in quiet
rural corners or busy city streets. The whole experience energized me
for my own journey, taking me away from everything I had constructed
in my head, shaking it up and letting it all resettle again.
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| The Alcazar in Seville |
I may have dreamed up a
few new dreams. The best kind of dreams, ones that make you a little
shaky and wonder if you can be that courageous. But being on the road
(or rails!) was the best kind of tonic for that too. Granted,
eighteen year olds the length and breadth of Europe managed to hop on
and off trains with abandon every summer and I'm no stranger to
travel myself. Still, there was something about seeing that line on
the map, winding its way through France, Spain and Italy, and knowing
that I had come to the end of it. My journey, that I painstakingly
planned, with all the little niggling worries about what might or
might not happen and realise that I did it. I got to the end and it
was wonderful.
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| Avignon |
But more than anything
I am so thankful for the wow moments. It felt like the best gift I
have ever given myself. The time, space and experiences to be truly,
deep down thankful to be alive. To see something that makes me think
with conviction 'Wow, I have really lived!' Travelling meant that
those wow moments came thick and fast, barely a day passed without
one. I feel like it has readjusted me somehow, reminded me that the
world is a pretty darn amazing place full of new sounds, smells,
tastes and glorious sights. That life is still wide open, it always
has been really.
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| The Duomo in Florence |
And so here I am, back
to the life I left behind a month ago. Ready to open the books and
embark on this coming academic year which in equal parts thrills and
terrifies me. Bolstered by that gloriously stocked tea cupboard and a
stack of brilliant memories I'm going forward boldly and letting
myself think as vast as I dare for the next adventure.
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| Plotting in Paris! |
Welcome home, Nicola. So glad you had such a wonderfully fulfilling and energising trip. Best wishes for the new term.
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