Frequent Travel Wears Me Out.

Any idiot can face a crisis – it’s day to day living that wears you out. — Anton Chekhov.

Despite my scepticism, let’s see where this goes.

I have never started a blog before largely because I have never felt it important to share. That I am also likely fearful of this sharing process probably features in equal prominence to the first reason. Nevertheless, and with the idea that I am possibly simply writing into an internet void, I have decided to begin in earnest in the days preceding my boyfriend’s solo trip to India.

Later I will get into all the reasons why I too am not preparing to go to India. I was invited. I was involved in some of the planning and until last week I was invested in the prospect. In many respects the Chekhov quote is how I not only feel about the once-planned adventure to India and travel in general, at this point in my life.

Where once the idea of a trip was in itself an adventure, it has somewhat ceased to be. At twenty-eight what I want is to be able to call a place home. It is no-ones’ fault but my own that this is not the case currently. I have made the decisions I have made. I have moved and travelled out of economic necessity and for the sensation of being kicked off kilter in the way that only travel can sustain.

The constant stream of moving and moving and moving again has, to use Chekhov, become my ‘day to day living’. Airport goodbyes and savvy luggage packing have stopped being the milestones they are when the travel is occasional, is purposeful. I have the feeling that I travel now because I cannot afford to settle in any one place. Perhaps I am scared and that would be quite like me.

Travelling constitutes a kind of Chekhovian ‘crisis’. Waking up in a foreign place, realising that you cannot communicate, constantly fumbling to find your voice, and your feet, in another country sends alarm signals to the body to seek out that which is familiar. And yet, if we can stand those alarming few days or weeks where the axis of our world is titled and we are not at the centre of how things operate then slowly, and with confidence, we learn to handle it. A crisis can tell you a lot about yourself.

I can handle the crisis of being abroad. I have done it so many times now it has become the deadening day to day. I maybe sound spoilt – a friend of mine calls me ‘overly travelled’ – to have reached a point where the invitation of the world no longer fills me with the same excitement.

The first reason why my boyfriend is going to India and I am not is because I want travel to feel like that crisis again.

If this is confusing then I apologise. It is, after all, the first time I am writing a blog with any real intent.



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