But, before I could leave, I couldn't. Which meant that before I could take a single step anywhere, I only had my daydreams to keep me company. I know that there are people all over the world who feel the same way I do, who want nothing more than to see beyond the same old roads of their everyday lives. Knowing what it felt like to have to wait, I've decided that maybe, possibly, I can help in the meantime for those that cannot travel just yet. Maybe I can give you a taste of what is yet to come, story by story.
It won't be the same as going yourself, but maybe it will help fan your travel flame a little longer until you can go on your own. But first, of course, before anyone ends up going anywhere, there's the desire to do so, and I remember that desire very clearly. I stumbled upon some of my old writing from before I went on my long awaited trip and how I felt after I had returned. These are just pieces of the beginning, of how it all started.
And there is no way I'm going to ever let it end.
All I had thought of for the last two years was leaving Arizona. There was one place in particular that I had been dreaming of lately, a place I had never been. Somewhere cold and windy, where tea was a daily tradition and the voices of the men there could make my swirling, thought filled mind cease and shift to their words. This place, my dream place, was London.
Cue the Mission Impossible music...
It was only ten in the morning. I would type up an email to my boss, leave work, go get my passport from my safe deposit box, and drive home and write a short but detailed note to my family explaining my unexplainable need to leave. I’d grab the few warm clothes I owned and head off to the airport. I could be on a flight that afternoon and in the place of my dreams the next day, just in time for tea.
No car, a small apartment where my bed would convert into my sofa during the day, a job as the produce girl in a local market during the morning and nights filled school and occasional yoga jobs. And on every Tuesday, my imagined day off, I would take a trip to my favorite cafe for afternoon tea and time for writing. This was all I wanted.
As strange and impossible as it sounds, I was bored with my life. Nothing was new anymore. Even the new things were only new and exciting for so long. I worked, went to school, came home, cleaned the house, went to bed. Every single day. I was in no way making a difference in the world. I wasn't changing anyone's life for the better, not even mine. I was stressed out, exhausted, over worked and under rested. I hated every minute of life, because every minute was my own personal hell.
And that is how this trip came to be. Now that it's over, I see the difference that one single journey can make. I see the world through new eyes.I long to step foot on every inch of the earth, meet people of every culture, discover the traveler inside of me.
Other things have changed, too.
I crave the cold. I finger through the scarfs in my closet wondering which one I would wear if it wasn't 104 degrees outside(in October, mind you.) I close my eyes and pretend I’m wandering the streets of London, the wind whisking my scarf in the air. A pleasant shiver runs down my spine.
Now it’s just suffocating me.
Now it’s just hell.
This I did not miss. The aches and pains of this life.
It takes everything in me not to hop in my car and head back to the airport, on to a new adventure...
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