Skip to main content

If no one ever left home

Think of a world where no one ever travelled. One where we knew all our neighbours, our landscapes, and we shared the same philosophy on life. In this world we would know nothing of what lay over a hillside, behind a mountain or across the sea. Some people in this world, they are perfectly happy here.  
Personally, I feel smothered even writing that description. Travel is as much about considering new ideas as it is about taking a photo or buying a t-shirt. My first trip overseas was magical although perhaps not in some people's eyes. I travelled from Scotland to Greece by bus - four days of looking out of the window onto a foreign world, my very own vista. It was dawn when we reached the Greek border, the hillsides were golden and, as I looked around, I would not have been surprised to see a shepherd and his nymphs frolicking downhill toward me. No matter the long bus journey, I had arrived into a magical land. The children of The Lion, the Witch and the Wardrobe could not have been more surprised when they went through the back of the wardrobe.
That trip took great financial sacrifice. I was an unbelievably poor student and I was alone, none of my friends wanted to go with me. But, no regrets. I came home a new person with a hunger for new people and places. Foreigners, when you don't know any, are like strangers.
So why do some of us want to go beyond borders? Are we escaping from our own worlds? Or are we moving forward toward new ideas, customs, language, foods? (Is it a little like those who travel by train facing where they are going, as opposed to those who like to see where they have been?)
I'm posing many questions but this is not a bad thing. Questions shouldn't hurt. 






 

Comments

Popular posts from this blog

We're all foreigners somewhere

  Most of us don’t think of ourselves as foreigners, even when we’re overseas. We believe that we are one with the wider group. After all, foreigners are something else, they are the people who don’t belong. I remember the first time I realised I was be an outsider. My British Caledonian flight to Zambia had landed in Lusaka and, when I looked out onto the tarmac, none of the ground staff looked like me. It gave me a thrill but also a sense of vulnerability. These people were not my people and I wondered if I would be safe among them. That thought prompted another – this is how visitors to my own country must feel. They are outnumbered, and their dress, skin colour, hair, any number of things, mark them out and perhaps leave them open to hostility. I have to say that I met no hostility in Zambia. Instead, my social skills grew as I learned to reach out to the people I lived among. Perhaps I did it to fit in, to ensure that I was less of a foreigner. I didn’t anticipate feeling ...

To guide or not to guide

  The mobile phone has made travel easier. Not only can we contact our loved ones more easily, tell them we’re in trouble, ask for help, or simply tell them that we miss them, but the mobile phone gives us access to maps, a compass, and guides on where to eat and places to stay. When I began travelling, which was in the dark ages before the internet, I would write to a country’s tourist board and tell them what part of their country I wanted to visit. They would send me a stack of brochures, and I would pour over the photos and the text for months ahead of our trip. My friends were not so engaged. All they wanted was sun and they left the planning to me. Looking back, there wasn’t a lot of planning. We’d take the bus from the old airport in Athens to Piraeus, step into any of the ferry offices and buy a ticket to an island. We didn’t ask where to find the ferry but would walk along the port side yelling at anyone on board each boat: “Paros”, “Crete” or wherever. Most times we w...