I have some friends who left Seattle the same month I did,
with plans to travel. But they are
following a very different path. They
rid themselves of almost everything in terms of household goods and stuffs, in
order to avoid the trap of self storage.
They also are on a true retirement path – I have no idea if they will
ever come back to America or Seattle. In
addition to all that, they began their journey with intensive language
lessons.
I really admire their willingness to step off the treadmill. Learning Spanish while confining your travels
(at least initially) to Central and South America is very wise. But my journey has already taken me through Spanish,
French, Flemish, German, Austrian German (really different), Czech, Greek, and
Turkish. Plus some Swedish. Do I count Scottish? And today – Italian. I expect to encounter at least five more
languages in the next two months, likely more.
So that would never have worked for me.
Plus, I always saw this as an out-of-time adventure, not a lifestyle. Now, I am certainly enjoying myself and I
could easily see extending my time, but I also miss many things about
home. I always planned to return,
although I don’t know precise details of what that will entail. I would continue this peripatetic lifestyle
if I could think of a way, but needs must.
I need to earn a living! I do
have a storage unit and someday I will set up a new nest and enjoy having some
(if not all) of that stuff in it. While
most of you know me as being anti-stuff, I do have a sentimental streak. There are some things in there I enjoy
having, that are gifts and reminders and comforts I don’t wish to eschew.
My Turkish hosts have taken me on several shopping
expeditions – the Grand Bazaar, etc, etc.
I have bought nothing. The
realities of carrying everything with me are such that I can’t imagine adding
to my burden. In hindsight I should have
packed leaving a little more free space in my bag. But mostly I packed wisely. I have shed a bit as I’ve gone on – books,
gloves (oops), used up toiletries. I
expect some of the clothing to be worn out and used up pretty soon, so that
will be tossed. While I planned this
trip I stopped buying much because I thought I would just wind up storing it
and that was wasteful. Now that I am on
the trip I’m not buying because I don’t want to carry it. All told, I think I am saving a lot of money
by traveling light. I hope to continue
the habit for a long time. It’s
interesting to walk through a mall and realize just how little the goods
attract me. It’s a similar process for
my waistline. I am spending so much time
walking, and meals are necessarily smaller (where would I put leftovers?), that
I am sure I am keeping healthy. I
haven’t been on a scale, but I think I’m doing well. Avoiding the ‘flu that seems to have hit you
all is another bonus.
It’s been said by so many but it is true: travel makes you
appreciate home more. If for no other
reason than cigarette smoking is banned in most of the US. The further east I go, the more I find myself
reeking of smoke and covered in ash. I
even feel like I am aging rapidly. I
think my skin is taking a beating from exposure to all the smoke. Gross.
For many reasons, I am glad to have seen Istanbul, but I am
looking forward to moving on. While
Turkey has not felt the way the UAE did (the only other majority-Islamic
country I have visited), it nevertheless is a bit uncomfortable. I want to be able to look everyone in the
eye, smile at passersby, and enjoy those freedoms. Istanbul isn’t overtly harassing, but as a
woman it isn’t friendly. I mostly went
about with Frida and Yassif who protected me from much of it. The one day I traveled alone on the bus and
tram, a man followed me three blocks from the tram, into the Archaeology Museum
(he must have had to pay the entrance fee, so this was beyond a whim), through
seven galleries, and then tried to speak with me. I rebuffed him and moved on to another
floor. He found me once again, but was
turned down again. I wasn’t scared –
there are guards in every room of the museum.
But his persistence with no encouragement was a bit alarming.
I hadn’t planned to go to Italy until February, after seeing
Hilary in Hungary and Croatia, since that would be the most logical movement
from East to West. But it’s a bit like
saving my dessert and filling up on everything else. I want to see Italy: I’m flying to Rome. I can always see some of it, meet Hilary in
Budapest, and come back after she departs.
This trip is a bit of dessert first anyway – I didn’t want to wait until
retirement to do all this. So I might as
well live up to that standard.