Time to time I have a weird feeling in me. It’s rather a series of feeling that come one after another. At the beginning I feel a nice bliss. Everything’s new. I take my time to discover places, find a way to meet new people, to create my new reality. Very often it includes new climate, new tastes, new language. I feel afraid of what is in front of me. On the other hand, there is an excitement. It’s like an adrenaline rush while bungee jumping.
Then everything around me starts to be familiar. Same faces, same people, same tasks. Everything seems to be easy, comfortable. I have a place to put my books and I am not thinking about how I will carry them all in my luggage.
It’s ok for some time but then I feel too comfortable. Routine starts to bother me and I do not really know why. I should be happy. People love being comfortable. I am one of the weirdos who doesn’t know how to do it. Or comfortable for me is something totally different. So I decide to change something. It takes me some time to figure it out but then, one moment and everything’s clear.
This is me now. I know what I want to do, I’ve started doing it (or rather going towards it) but then panic comes. I left my comfort zone and I am wondering if it was a wise decision. Maybe I don’t need this extra job, I can manage with what I have now? Fear usually comes before I start doing things. Then it just feels natural. I think I am just overthinking it all. Adventure is somewhere out there and I know that if I decide to stay here I won’t be happy.
I guess I can call it a short introduction to myself. I love to travel; I do but I love to do it in a slow way. Stay for a few weeks, a few months in one place and just build my life around that environment. Only then you can notice small nuances like this young guy with too short trousers, passing you on your way to work every day at the same time (more or less). Or suddenly realize that the lady you’ve been buying coffee from knows your name and sees when you look tired.
I lived for some time in Bulgaria, Varna. There was a small shop next to the bus stop, near the place I used to live. There were a few people working but there was one women I remember especially. I am not sure she knew my name or really put much attention into my person. After 10 months I came back to Poland and returned to visit Bulgaria in a year. I stayed at the same place so inevitably I went to that shop. The lady was behind the counter. She smiled when she saw me.
“it’s been a long time since I saw you here. Where have you been?”
I was really surprised; and really happy at the same time. Someone remembered me.
When you travel you leave some impression behind you. In people’s memories or stories that happened and are told now at parties. I am not the only one that takes this impressions, not when you stay for a longer time in one place. You influence people. It’s nice to think that maybe this lady still, time to time, reminds herself about me.
I feel also sad that I never asked her name. I never really asked her anything and I had an advantage of knowing the language.
So here I am, December 2015, tomorrow starting my 2nd job, night shift, just to save as much as possible for my next trip (I still have 9-5 permanent job). South America. I’ve been in England long enough to feel that I am not traveling anymore. I am just living in here and I think that is not enough for me. Not at the moment. Not after almost 2 years.
This is my story. What’s yours?