Travel

 

A couple of years ago a met up with a couple of friends. One of them I had not seen for over 15 years and the other was the second meeting in about the same time. Talk at some point turned to work. Do you remember I always wanted to do journalism? My friend said that and I nodded. He'd had lots of different jobs before one day in his late twenties or early thirties he went to higher education to follow his dream and today he loves working in media. The other said he was working his notice but that is all. He had another job lined up. The job he was packing in he'd done for decades installing satellite systems. I just assumed he was off to do the same with a different company. I wish I hadn't assumed and instead asked him more. A few months later I found out he'd started his own business working from home doing graphic design. Another big leap. The leap not just of vocation but more importantly from monotony to happiness.

Any way at the time it was all lost on me. My friend kept asking me what I'd really like to do, deep down. I don't know. He kept pressing and I kept giving the same answer. Semi honest. I didn't know but nor did I say that if I come get anxiety free I would do virtually any job happily. He wouldn't have understood. I get the feeling now he wanted to help me find that place, find happiness. I also think now it was maybe he who took my other friend by the hand and guided him from the mundane into the working life he had been craving. 

And that was that gor as long time. Today though all that came back to me. Travel writer. Bang!, there it is. That is what I wanted to do. I prefer my own company or at least did. I have great friends but appreciate them more and enjoy their company more with time in between. I'd happily gave gone off travelling in the back of a can across some far land armed only with a notepad and pen. That was what I wanted. That was my passion. That was completely buried until today. How ironic that my desire to travel was snubbed by agoraphobia. Life couldn't have given me any more of a slap in the face with that one.

What triggered this train of thought was an Indian man on the radio today. He is running a bus from London to Delhi on what for me would be the ultimate trip - were my mental state different. That is actually the return leg as the bus is first coming from Dehli to London. The trip costs £15000 and takes 70 days. It meanders through Europe finally exiting Russia into China via "the Stans" and into India. Each nightly stop is to stay on a hotel and there are days in Moscow and other cities to chill for a bit. The bus itself is all luxury. My perfect trip except I don't have £15 nevermind a thousand fold and I can't get to the next town on a bus never minx London to Dehli. Maybe one day though. Its good to dream if nothing else and that for me is a beautiful dream. Although I will also say I don't think the price includes the return home.