Having travelled

Having come back from holiday recently, I've been able to mull over my thoughts on holidays. I've never really enjoyed the prospect of a holiday, the further it is from home the worse, though I usually end up being pleasantly surprised by how it turned out once I've packed my bag and am on the flight home - occasionally with the odd wistfulness and disappointment that I'm back home. 

It's this dichotomy of holidays that irks me somewhat - I don't resent the idea of travel, but I'm also not as keen on it as I could be. Maybe it's the possibility of the unknown, the fact that I'll have to uproot my life for a week just to spend it unproductively elsewhere. I like doing things, after all, and lounging around is the complete opposite of that; sightseeing also doesn't feel too productive to me, as I'm not doing any work. Maybe it's the absense of work that I miss, even if come the end of the holiday, I long for the work to disappear once more.

Maybe it's the travel aspect that irks me the most. I usually start a holiday by taking a plane, and I hate flying - it doesn't help that when I board a plane, I'm dreading the takeoff and agitate over the worst possible outcome; obviously I've been fine so far. Luckily, I've not had to contend with many annoying passengers yet - there have been the odd few here and there, but I can listen to music and drown out their jollies, so no issue there. Usually the destination is a reward for enduring the flight, though, so I don't mind the experience that much.

Sometimes, when you go abroad, it can be humbling to see how other people live, and their conditions which differ significantly to yours. It's easy to forget just how wealthy you might be when pitted against the whole world; you could have sturdier houses, easier accessibility to services, better technology than many people who you'll see abroad. You likely won't have sunny beaches, though, unless you happen to live by one - so you do miss out on that aspect. Not that it's as major as the power going out, and the hotel relied on a few candles propped up on tables, as occurred once on my holiday. And regarding the power, the girl that went around blowing out the candles did it so cheerfully that I realised how fortunate I am to not have powercuts often.

Where I went, it was 30℃ or more every day - I happened to return to London in the midst of a freezing January. The contrast couldn't be greater, and I'm writing this post under a blanket remembering how unbearable those temperatures abroad felt, whilst now living at the opposite extreme of the scale. 

Obviously I saw many great things, structures constructed by people from thousands of years ago, the sheer size and intricacy of them is often stunning. And yet I didn't feel particularly moved at the time - there was no sudden realisation that my life had changed for the better, that I had grown as a person and things were only going to brighten. Standing in the centre of the large room, I didn't feel any more positive energy - I felt the same. Perversely, I find more joy stumbling across a sight without expecting it, than if I were to plan it. And you would never go into a holiday blind, deciding to effectively flip a coin when opting to go somewhere - no, you would research it thoroughly, consult all the travelogues and websites over what attractions are the best, and you'd set out at the earliest times possible to experience what you ought to. 

I hate planning. I'm spontaneous at heart. So that aspect of holidays - the idea of a precise schedule which you must stick to, with every location marked out precisely - doesn't appeal to me.

However, what I've written doesn't mean I don't appreciate the world. I've been to various different countries across many continents, indeed I've blogged about a few, and they've all often ended with the wistful feeling that life is better elsewhere. Yet I reckon that life is best where I feel most content, and currently that place is home. 

Holidays aren't necessarily for me, that is until I'm halfway through one and I realise they're not all bad. However, I'm not as enthralled by them as some are.

The sun slowly rising out of an airplane window, as I flew back to London...

...and here's the moon, also shining through the same window.