At times, all I can think of is holiday, going away, breaking out of the routine and seeing something completely different (okay, actually the places I'm going to then look fairly similar to my home town: middle sized towns with pittoresque houses, surrounded by green middle high hills, often crossed by a river). So much I longed for time away from everything. After three days into the trip, however, what I longed for most was home. Not because the holiday was so terrible. I didn't get bedbugs or a sunstroke and I wasn't robbed (all of which have happened recently, to me or people around me). I just didn't have any drive for activities anymore.
 |
| Impressive, but not for a mind that is already full |
What I probably really needed was not an exciting trip with lots of new impressions and little adventures, but a bed somewhere by a lake and a week of rain. To simply do nothing. Not the kind of doing nothing where you're stuck behind a screen, paralysed and restless.
But the kind where the only non-natural sound is the occasional turning of a book page or your own snoring. I wanted to refresh my mind and gather new experiences. Yet, I was constantly spinning the same mental wheel that had kept my mind busy already at home. I wouldn't have needed a 60-euro train journey with many other exhausted and sweaty travellers to an expensive country for that.
You can't escape yourself after all. Not even in search of adventure elsewhere.
So I can actually straight away take the next holiday. This time I don't even have to pre-book anything: Balcony & Bed might be the only B&B necessary right now, and that's nowhere better than at home.
Kommentare
Kommentar veröffentlichen