Thoughts and ideas to inspire, uplift and affirm the childless and childfree, by circumstance and by choice
H (my partner) and I love travelling together but I also have a very soft spot for travelling alone. I’m not a particularly rich woman and when I talk about travel, it’s not the first-class-flight-to-a-glamorous-resort kind. If I’m with H we’re generally in Asia gathering something for one of his projects and if I’m by myself its likely to be in Europe, meandering towards someone I’m visiting or else doing some kind of research for my own work.
One of my favourite parts of any journey will always be the part that can be made by train. I love the sounds and rhythms of train travel, I like watching towns and fields flash by, I like hearing announcements of unfamiliar-sounding stations and I like the way my mind seems to want to match the train’s motion, with thoughts flowing easily and in an orderly way. I’m pretty sure I’ve done some of my best writing on trains.
Another favourite part of travelling for me is the moment when you open the door of a hotel room for the first time. On my budget, there might be a high ceiling, a four-poster bed and a bath with feet, or there might just as easily be cobwebs, broken tiles and a flickering neon light. I honestly don’t much mind which it is, as long as there is a kettle and enough blankets. Whatever it’s like, I love knowing that the room will be ‘home’ for the next few days, where I will drink my first cup of tea each morning and curl up and read in bed in each evening.
If one of the perks of your own non-motherhood is the opportunity to travel, you might like to read a post about the wisdom of taking the odd risk or a post about the importance of marking milestones.
But in the meantime, if you’re a traveller too, what is your own favourite part of the journey?
[The beautiful image above has been borrowed with permission from Harry Bloom.]