Friday, May 8, 2015

Wanderlust : travel Diaries


Cruising at 35000 feet, a glass of Moet, some chocolate fudge brownie, an episode of Friends in the background makes for the most perfect white noise; looking out, I can almost make out the geography of the landmass down there, almost tell what part of the world it is. And then, somewhere over the Thai and Vietnamese airspace I am enveloped by the feeling of exalting joy, of absolute happiness. For a glorious fifteen minutes, I experience pure bliss, a happiness so intense, it is almost tangible.

I love travelling, I love every aspect of it - the detailed research and love affair with Lonely Planet, blogs, Tripadvisor, ticketing and travel websites et all. Booking tickets is almost sacred, an affirmation of my intent to set out.

It is a wonderful feeling, setting out. It is amazing how each destination has a story to tell, every town, village and city is an intriguing,large , feisty, quirky living  and breathing organism, wordlessly expressing what it has undergone over the ages, how it has changed, and how, sometimes, it has , like a petulant child, stubbornly, refused to change.

I think I become a slightly better person each time I travel. With each getaway, I fall in love with the new stories, and with myself. The new landscapes, alien cultures and yet something small that makes me belong in every city, the feeling of how things change and yet remain the same is intoxicating.

However, while each holiday is a wonderful experience and a revelation, even if it were not, I would save up, scrimp, plan with care, over and over again, for those fifteen minutes of perfection.

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