traveling - not at home

We have safely returned from our holidays in the mountains. Both weather, snow and skiing was terrific, thanks for asking!

On the last day, while gliding up towards the ski slopes, I solved a particular puzzling aspect of my life. I don’t really like to travel. I have nothing against sitting in a train (actually I love that), a plane and going some place, but I don’t like to travel through a country without a base where I can stay.

I really need a place that I can call “home”, even if it’s just temporary. The thing I dislike most, when away, is the hours spent in an unknown place, when the hotel room is already given to someone else and the train/plane boarding is hours away. The sense of not belonging, of not having a place to retreat to, is a feeling that almost nauseates me. I can bear it, knowing that there is some place to go to in the end, and that the suffering will be (relatively speaking) short.

But traveling longer? No thanks. I’d rather stay at home.

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