There’s just something about travel. It’s like medicine, like a band-aid for my soul.
I know this about myself, but sometimes I forget. Like yesterday, when I was waiting nervously for my flights, worrying about getting the dog through, and wading through doubts about the whole nomadic lifestyle thing. It’s been a while since I did any serious moving around. And I’d be dishonest if I said that I wasn’t feeling panic-attacky the day before I left.
But then I got on the first plane and relief washed over me. And we boarded the second plane (in first class, no less) and the stress started to really lift. Finally, we flew in low for our landing and I watched the old, imposing architecture and tiny, gas-efficient cars far below. And I felt exhilarated. Something about new places invigorates me. I love change and newness and diving into the unknown.
So, now I’m HERE. Sitting on a comfy bed in the cheeriest, sunniest room you can imagine. It’s rainy and gray outside and somehow the room STILL manages to be warm and bright and cozy. Plus, there’s the rest of the guest house: a clean, little kitchen that I share with one other room (which currently is housing a cute young couple that I think is Russian or at least Eastern European); tall, twisting staircases; a gorgeous brownstone exterior on the cutest street ever; and one of those wonderful, wonderful pitchers that heats up water in an instant in my room (plus mugs and all the tea trappings a girl could want). And, bonus, it’s affordable, because the downstairs floors are undergoing renovations at the moment.
I got here just a couple hours ago, made a quick grocery store trip, took an even quicker shower (due to the fact that someone used up a good portion of the hot water before I got to it), and then settled into my sunny attic room to unpack, drink several cups of tea, and send messages into the interwebs to let everyone know that I am safe and sound and happy.
I’m a little too exhausted to do much more than that. But I’m also happy. Transcendently happy. And exquisitely exhausted.
[…] And all the little worries I had beforehand—about making mistakes on my dog paperwork, losing clients, missing opportunities—just melted away. […]