It’s been just over a week of being home from the adventure of a lifetime and I haven’t sunk into a post-holiday depression. Hallelujah!
Don’t get me wrong, I’m sure it’s coming. But it is kind of refreshing to know that I’m relatively okay with things at home that I haven’t felt the need to cry, curl up in the fetal position, quit my job, cut my hair off or emotionally eat (although I do this on my good days).
We got drunk on our Hop On Hop Off and visited the Queen.
Travel always puts things into perspective for me. Always.
It resets my whole way of thinking and doing and reminds me that there is so much more outside of myself. It allows me to see the wonders of the world and eat and drink all of the amazing treats other countries have to offer. It makes me realise how good I’ve got it at home, even when I’m in the most beautiful places on the planet. It makes me feel grateful and appreciative of the world and home. I got to meet wonderful people (and I don’t even like people) and had the off run-in with assholes that I managed to laugh about later (gold-star dickhead on my flight to Dubai ahem).
Travel shifts my focus and priorities, I realise what’s really important to me and what’s not. Plus my anxiety is pretty much non-existent the entire time. Bonus! (And makes me wonder wtf it is at home that triggers it, but that’s for another time).
JM: Did you hear that guy offer me coke and weed? Me: Why do you always attract the druglords?
It also always re-ignites my creative spark.
Turns out, while I have so many stories to share (and will in time), my brain is much more interested in working on projects that I’ve had on the shelf for several years. But I’m not complaining. It’s the first time in a long time, I have been so eager to work on something else and it feels so nice.
My point is, if you can:
- Renew your passport
- Save some money
- Do some research
- Book a holiday
- Get out of here for a little while.
If you have zero desire to travel, there is something fundamentally wrong with you. Seriously.
I spent my holiday being present in the moment and feeling carefree.
Yes, I know my partner and I seem to saturate our Instagram stories with updates, but we’re not the type of couple who re-shoot. We’d film what we saw and then save the videos and photos for posting when we were unwinding in our room later that day. I felt happy, I could feel myself smiling all the bloody time. I sat with a beer on the water’s edge in Dubrovnik and thought ‘I am in fucking Dubrovnik right now’. I did that everywhere we went. I felt so grateful for my life (I still do) and it was truly pure magic, every day.
See? Pure magic.
Tune in from tomorrow, when I’ll be bitching and moaning about cold, early mornings, missing eating pasta five times a day and still not fitting into my work pants comfortably because I don’t know how to not drink beer for one bloody weekend.