The great affair is to move

Thinking about travel from the confines ( literally) of my home.

Photo by Sacha Verheij on Unsplash

This past week I have been housebound…due to the hideous vanquishing of the pre-cancerous cells. I have literally been hunkered down inside my house! Like a vampire. No sunlight on my face. That has probably been the hardest part of this whole health adventure. The time out from  sunlight, and fresh breezes and of trees and oceans and observing new things has been quite the sensory deprivation.  Plus, I won’t lie, a bit of Melbourne 2020 lockdown PTSD has snuck in…Though, Blue and I have been out walking at night , which has been quite lonely. I have not done any nit walking here on the Peninsula, an after dark walk was quite common in my inner city days with clearly lit paths and others out doing the post work dog walk, but here it’s not been necessary for me. The bush smells different at night and walking in the damp moonlight has softened the edges of my feelings of missing out. 

This time of isolation and staying put has coincided with a rush of travel memories popping up in social media. You know the ones: this time 7 years ago, this time a year ago etc. Turns out this time of year I am very often the opposite of staying put. I am very often elsewhere. 

Travel is such a catch all word for some many different activities. Some people love nothing more than  a resort near a pool with endless cocktails and sun. Others like the routines and comfort of  a cruise. There are those who love wilderness camping adventures and those who like guided tours where they learn a lot. I do think there's a difference between travel and holidays ( though of course the venn diagram has a lot of overlap). Travel seems more active. For me, I like the kind of travel that involves that little stretch out of my comfort zone , a chance to see how other people live and a look at what can be incorporated into my own life. Of course, I also love the architecture and the art and the  history and the sea and all the great new food!!

I love train travel and ferries and airports … and walking. So much walking!

In 1990 I first went on a big OS trip. I started out with my then husband, the father of my children, who had been a couple of years prior on his own big european adventure with a friend. We travelled together experiencing so much wonder and adventure and people and food. I had studied French for about 7 years and satisfied a long held itch to actually speak French in France and see the places I had learned about. I felt a strong affinity. I was not wrong. I loved everything about it. Even, or maybe especially, getting lost in Rouen and having the local police escort us to our lodgings. To the absolute mortification of my husband. We laughed about it later!

After he went home I spent a week or so with the brother of one of my oldest friends travelling around Portugal, we had a lot of fun and then I was on my own. For the first time ever. My first ( very long) day alone I spent on a train from Tavira in Portugal to Paris. I arrived about 9:30 pm with no hotel booked. During the French Open. Rookie error. I managed to sweet talk my way into getting a person at the station helping me find and book what was probably the last free room in Paris. A hideously expensive triple room in an arrondissement I was not familiar with after visiting Paris earlier in the trip. I found my way there and headed out for a meal. I sat alone in a restaurant. The only woman in the place. Every move I made was watched attentively. Then I set out to finally sleep in my spacious room. This is pre-google. Pre-internet. My hotel room key only had my room number attached!! I could not remember the name of my hotel, I could not recall the street address. In tears I called home weeping. The money for my call ran out. So I tried to retrace my steps. I eventually found my hotel and sank into bed. Solo travel wasn’t going well.

The great affair is to move.

Robert Louis Stevenson

Travel seems to be in our DNA, for much of our existence as a species we have been nomadic. There is something inherently hopeful and optimistic about travel. We board trains, and planes hoping for a taste of something magical or unknown or illuminating. We hope for something we can’t quite put words to. I never know exactly what will happen when I travel, and that’s the thing that I revel in. It’s a great leap into uncertainty. It’s deliberately planning to get a fresh perspective on the world. And the best trips and the best stories about those trips are when things don’t go to plan. The best trips for me involve exchange of some type. Sharing stories, cooking techniques, photos, beliefs and customs or weaving together on the one hand can demonstrate difference but on the other cement our common humanity in such tangible and beautiful ways.

Travel isn’t always pretty. It isn’t always comfortable. Sometimes it hurts, it even breaks your heart. But that’s okay. The journey changes you; it should change you. It leaves marks on your memory, on your consciousness, on your heart, and on your body. You take something with you. Hopefully, you leave something good behind.

Anthony Bourdain

Following lock down restrictions and closed borders and despite cost of living pressures we are travelling more than ever. In a phenomenon dubbed “revenge travel” Australian OS travel is up 32% on pre pandemic levels. Its a hunger we have.

Me and my sunnies at Pompei

I am happy to report that some 35 years later things have looked up. I am much better at solo travel. I travel with others a lot but I always include some solo time. For me it unlocks so much. I like who I am when I travel solo. I am more curious, I am brave and pay more attention to what is around me. I don’t take things for granted and I am open to new experiences . I also love that feeling of reflection about what I actually achieved on my own! The problems I have managed to solve all on my own in foreign lands, in foreign languages always remind me that I have the resources to do what I need to. The times I did not fold under pressure but used ingenuity  or gracefully surrendered or took a new direction have stood me in good stead in my home life. Older me is proud of younger me! 

Pino and me ( and my sunnies!) on the ferry from Sicila to the mainland.

Travelling with another is lovely because you can share experiences and compare responses. But strangers don’t talk to you as much when they see you have a companion. And it turns out talking with strangers is one of my all time favourite things to do when travelling. 

After a trip last year I wrote this:

But when I think back on this trip , some of the memories that are most compelling are those that involved other people. They all began as strangers. Some of them remained so. I didn’t even speak to some of them.

For instance , the woman saying goodbye to her son at the railway station in Strasbourg broke my heart. I couldn’t understand why all those around me were not weeping as well.. I don’t know where he was going or for how long, but watching that mother clutch her son, and hold her hand over his heart while they both cried will stay with me forever. It was simultaneously so particular and so universal

Or 75 year old Pino who befriended me on my train ride from Sicily back to the Italian mainland. He spoke not a word of English, my Italian is rubbish and my Sicilian non-existent. Somehow, we managed to have quite authentic communication for our train trip sharing stories about family and food. Lots of photos were looked at. We argued about who would pay for coffee, he said “brava” every time I understood him or said something he understood and he showed me all the sights along our journey.

And of course I made new friends out of strangers at Path of Love in Italy. German and Italians who will be lifelong friends now. And my lovely new Canadian friends who helped me get into my apartment in Ortigia and are visiting me in December. 

I only have a few more days of being housebound during daylight hours so will look for new ways to get that fresh perspective. Night walks here we come. And I will take pleasure in looking at all my travel photos as they pop up. Not long now until my next travel adventure. Off to Japan with my kids in a few weeks.

Hope this week brings new perspectives or some little bravery and tones of delight.