Well not that it…which I’m pretty sure I never had in any case. But the “travel it” is damn near intact. I haven’t been on a substantial overseas trip by myself for a few years and, probably, I’m older now with perhaps some slight derangements previously unnoticed…but I appear to be with it!
I am excited not to have lost all my travel chops…yeah yeah yeah. Creeping timidity, creaks and aches, nap-obsession…actually substantial fear-of-travel has accompanied the planning for this trip. Which has made me sadder than I can begin to tell you.
Ah yes—journeying-while-old. Nostalgia the constant companion: this will likely be the last time I’ll go here, see that, do this. Fear-of-awakening with a new sharp or dull or sneaky pain or unplanned bad feeling anywhere (including in my brain). Being unseen—and that, my younger friends—is a bona fide condition. Being pitied when you ask a dumb question (when previously you just didn’t give a fuck). Looking ever-so-wrinkled in restroom mirrors throughout the world. Enough. Here and now is kind of okay.
I’ll close, before trying out for one more Thursday sleep, with a joyful (by my fairly low standards) note. Unlike son Steve, daughter-in-law Sandra, or pal Celia, I do not make four new friends every time I pause for a breath absolutely anywhere on a trip. But now and then conversation rears its uninvited head. Like on the long plane ride over with a lovely young woman from Denver, studying design in Italy. Or on the long cab ride from the Oslo airport with a nice guy from Somalia, long time resident of Norway. Our topic: US politics. And, both people so articulately added to what we are all feeling about the abject ridiculousness and eminent danger of the creepy weirdo (thank you, Tim), Trump. Gladdens one’s heart to know the world feels our fear. Misery loves……..
Hopefully future posts from this maybe-last-bumming-around-the-world-sort-of-by-myself journey (nostalgia in full swing) will add a descriptive sight/site or two. And food besides bread. But no guarantees.