The last time I left North America was seven years ago. It was a travel term for my undergrad degree, and my class & professors camped and travelled by bus (we called it the Taeter Bus) through 10 different European countries.
Living in a very small town in a very small province, with a comparatively low income, travelling is a pretty big deal, so that trip was definitely one of the highlights of my life so far. There was so much experience crammed into those ten weeks. Just learning how to travel was a daunting task: from navigating different languages, cultures, and street maps, to absorbing and appreciating as many moments as possible, to repacking my suitcase and tent nearly everyday.
On top of that, I needed to engage in class lectures, do on-the-spot research, and complete syllabus requirements...and my cooking team had to prepare a meal every other day. Not having been in school for several years now, I don't think I could do it all anymore, but I was in my element at the time. I was exhausted and depressed, but in my element nonetheless.
One of my top five favourite memories from the trip was our free afternoon in Bruges, Belgium. It was the beginning of our 9th week of travel, and I'd succumbed to a certain lethargy born of over-stimulation. I had boarded the Taeter bus that morning with no idea where we were going; I didnt really care enough to ask. When we pulled up in the middle of Bruges, a TA handed us all a photcopy of a street map and told us if we went beyond the map's edges, we probably wouldn't get back in time to meet the bus. Then we all got off. Everyone else, it seemed, had prepared for this trip and knew just where they wanted to go. I was tired of people. We had breifly stopped in Bratislava a couple weeks before, where I wandered off alone and got lost, missed the Taeter bus pickup, and freaked out all my classmates. It had been difficult to go off alone after that. I took advantage of the opportunity provided by my own listlessness, and just started walking.
It was probably almost an hour of walking before the watery sunlight, the peacefulness of the afternoon, and the charming surroundings finally revived me. I checked the map, figured out where I had come from, realized I'd shaken off all my classmates, and decided to follow every whim that struck me for the next several hours.
I found a tea room and went in. I sipped leisurely at the tea from a spoon because I couldn't figure out how to get rid of the tea leaves. (New to tea drinking, I was.) A man across the room was quite amused.
I wandered further, soaking in the sun, and found tables set up by the street, like a yard sale from home. It looked too informal to be a market so I don't know what you would call it. Perusing the tables, my heart leapt; I crossed an item off my bucket list and bought a 12 piece Babushka doll, made even more charming by its mysterious history.
I bought a Belgian waffle, because who wouldn't, when in Belgium? And I sat on the edge of a canal to eat it. There was a soft breeze. For some reason, a breeze in my hair never fails to make me feel pretty, even when it blows powdered sugar from a waffle into my face. Other tourists waved to me as they floated down the canal.
A little sticky, I headed into what I know now was Markt Square. I watched a marionette serve tea and do handstands.
I wandered aimlessly, and just soaked in the activity that I didn't have to participate in. It was so lovely.
Remembering that blissful afternoon, tears prick my eyes; there was so much of what I want from life in that afternoon stroll--romance, freedom/independence; easy comraderie with perfect strangers; laughter and happy chatter surroundung me; warm sunshine, cool breezes, the sound of rippling water; the simple pleasure of existing without expectation. It's now my favourite way to travel. Just to go and be in that new place, and take what comes as part of the experience. It's a challenge, given that I'm a bit of a control-freak, and more naturally try to plan for every contingency, but I know now from experience that it is completely worth it to give up the control when I travel. I plan, and research the heck out of a place before I leave, but when I get there, the planning stops.
So, for all you lovely Steemians who travel lots, let this be a reminder to stop and smell the sunshine! :) In the meantime, I'm keeping the dream alive to get back across the ocean someday.