I used to love to travel. And then there was this period of about ten years where I just lost all hope of ever being able to travel again because I was made to feel like a bore. I am not the best of travelers. Ask any of my close friends or cousins (well, the only two who will travel with me without much complaint). They’ll laugh and tell you that my antics are hysterical, but I usually grumble about the heat or mumble about how I miss my bathroom back home.
I am the sort that will book a ticket two months in advance, make an itinerary, pre-check, check, recheck, turn up at the airport nearly three hours early even for a domestic flight, lest I encounter a long line during security check and finally, and finally, I never forget my trusty tissues and alcohol-y hand sanitisers.
But it was different this time around. I traveled with a friend who made me look at things differently. My grumbling wasn’t ignored, in fact, this friend took my grumbling and turned it into a piece for a stand-up show. I couldn’t help but giggle myself. It made me happy, I realised, to travel, and I didn’t miss my loo back home even once.
There was a road trip and tiny hotel rooms and lots of scenic mountains. I still managed to get in a grumble here and there, but overall, I was a happy camper. I came to realise that I’m not such a bad person to travel with and that it probably wasn’t my fault completely when I traveled with my ex. (As someone who was more used to being left up to my own devices and antics on vacation, this was pure relief when I felt included throughout the entire trip!)
I guess when you don’t feel left out, you enjoy yourself more. And I had only felt that the few times I’d traveled with my cousin, who basically used to shut me down and tell me to suck it up and enjoy the place instead or when she would simply have to calm me down for being much too hyperactive. And also, let’s not forget the one time I traveled with my friends for my birthday. Now THAT was a good vacation, even though I barely did anything.
But I must say, I am in love with the mountains, where the sun rises at 5 AM and it gets dark and chilly by 6 PM. The early morning tea and the yummy eggs made me want to get up and get out. (Trust me, this wasn’t me even a year ago.) I felt like I just wanted to do every single thing. Even though it was difficult for me to climb uphill and I had to stop to pee every two hours. (I think that got on my friend’s nerves, but there was no complaint.)
Yes, I think the travel bug has bitten me once again. And I sure am re-learning how to enjoy myself when I travel. A few things could change, such as me wanting to follow a plan down to the T, because that doesn’t always happen. But all in all, I think that I am getting back to my days of when I used to love to travel.
Flurries 