Two questions: why do I travel and why on earth would I blog? Some of my cynical mates would say “Who cares?” to both questions. Most of them probably but that’s who I am….reflective in the few free hours that life affords me. Deconstructionism to the point of …….
Travel is not rest – except on lay days like today. It is a race to make sure you don’t miss anything important… a piece of history, an image, a sense of the present, a good meal. It is to wonder at what went before and to try to learn those lessons; it is to have your senses sharpened by the unfamiliar; to be in awe of the great.
Travel is to stand outside the window looking in with time to absorb what you see. A step off the path of the familiar that makes you think about where you are in all aspects.
Travel starts, for me, a process of brain weaving and questioning. Sometimes a search for lost knowledge that occurs in the greying years. Thank you Mr Google. Sometimes a lateral leap in my Weltanschauung, like, are these kids demonstrating in Madrid right? Are they signalling a new paradigm…is it time for politics as we know them to fade?
So one can travel but why blog about it? Well it beats a travel diary. I never had one of those. Am I just a neophyte, entranced by the technology? An egoist? Is it just a way to keep in touch which seems so much more important as I get older?
Am I just a dilettante, a grazer at the smorgasbord of life or a would- be Renaissance woman?
Maybe all of those. Perhaps I am just trying to write again, perhaps it is time for that second novel.