Lately I've been pondering about where the adventure-like feeling of travelling disappeared to. When I was a kid and only 7 years old my dad's company took us to visit him Korea where he was working then. I remember school finishing and the holidays starting, and I was told I was going to Korea. I didn't know where it was, only that it was a country far away from our Nordic roots. It was like going to the end of the earth, unexplored waters and I didn't know what to expect. It was the packing for the unknown - who knew if I was ever coming back, 6 weeks is a long time after all. Almost the entire school holiday!
I grew older and the going abroad was not so frequent as my dad only wanted to stay homeground in Norway. He was travelling too much and had no desire whatsoever to spend his precious time in some cheesy holiday resort in Spain. I didn't understand that when I was a kid though. Back then it was utterly incomprehensible NOT wanting to spend a holiday on a crowded beach somewhere down southern Europe. So we went on family holidays in our boat or wood cabin (by the sea) summer and winter.
As a grown up I totally understand what he meant - and now I'm more up for private quite holidays than a package holiday. (But don't get me wrong, if you offer me a holiday now, I'd accept anyplace anytime with whatever company!)
Then when I turned 15 my parents allowed me to go to summer school on Jersey. What a thrill and excitement! Four girls going and we were such innocent ;) teenagers. So many butterflies turning my insides out. Meeting new people. Traveling by bus through Sweeden and France. A stop in Paris and Euro Disney. The ferry crossing from St. Malo. Aaaah, such good times.
So where did this feeling of travelling to the unknown go? The feeling of adventure? The thrill of packing for activities you couldn't possibly foresee?
The last real feeling of adventure of going on holiday, I had when I travelled for three months in Thailand, Malaysia and Australia with a stop in L.A, San Diego, Tijuana and New York. I was 18 going 19 and had worked for a year prior to save money and argued with my mum who didn't want me to leave. Understandably. Though I felt quite grown up at the time. Ahhh, the naivité des jeunes. If anyone shows this to my future children there will be much punishment because I'll NEVER let them travel the way I did! Hypocritical I know, but it was a miracle nothing bad happened to us.
I digress... Arriving in Bangkok without the luggage seemed just part of the fun, not having booked an hotel in advance was just cool because we were free spirits roaming the world. Seeing the then untouched beaches of Thailand was like ending up in paradise. Meeting beautiful and kind Thai people taught us things school hadn't. Working on a coffee farm in Australia was a big but funny mistake. Getting stung by some Australian underwater creature, ending up with balloon-like foot could easily be cured by beer (miracle!) - stay in bed like the doctor said... Nah, had no time for that.
I never knew what I'd see next. A thrill I miss. Maybe it's the age the makes one wiser, more knowledgeable and more prepared. Clearly I wouldn't want to go somewhere now, without having read, researched and planned my stay - out of fear of missing the essential attractions, views or restaurants, or whatever it is that makes me want to go there.
(I've left out the travelling abroad to live because that opens up a whole other spectrum of thoughts - another post another day :)
I still love travelling of course, and I'm really looking forward to every trip but the adventure is not there. Now, the trip and holiday starts when I have reached my final destination and not while packing for the trip. If the airline looses my luggage on the way, I'll be upset. If my hotel booking has been cancelled by mistake I'm not smiling. And I know my way around already because I printed the maps at home...
And maybe I've been spoilt the last ten years always travelling back home for every holiday but airports and airplanes carry no more magic for me. Not the same it did when I at 13 flew with my mum and brother through Heathrow to Spain to see my dad who worked there. The smells of the airport, mum rushing nervously to the other gate and hostesses pointing us in the right direction. Now I'm just relaxed, nonchalantly late and getting more and more afraid of flying.