A few weeks late, but the first month of this summer I flew over 16,000 miles on two trips that took me to five countries and six states of the United States.
I had the opportunity to start traveling the world and in it-in a word-left me speechless. When we were staying in Berlin I was online and came across this:
“Traveling – it leaves you speechless, then turns you into a storyteller.” ~ Ibn Battuta
I had written it down and forgot about it until we were staying in a convent in France and I was flipping back through that notebook. The whole time we were on this trip I had the feeling that somehow I finally had something to say and there was an urgency in being able to put words to paper. Staying in that convent was almost unreal, like time stopped and somehow being disconnected from everything else made other parts of life make sense. The bells from the church tower would ring out every hour but it never felt like time was passing. Instead, the bells were just reminding us that we are alive and with that, reminded us that we needed to act like it. Like a heartbeat, like a predictable reminder. In a way I think all of us on the trip needed the reminder.
Before I ramble more about being alive, I should get back to the experience of actually traveling for the first time. Something tells me that this blog is probably going to turn into a place for me to share stories from those three weeks until I feel that there are no more words to use to bring them to life.
From the beginning:
When we boarded that first plane-the one that would take us across the Atlantic ocean-I was terrified. It was only the second flight I had ever been and knowing that air travel is more safe than road travel was only a tiny consolation. When we finally landed in Dusseldorf, it was difficult to not be the anxiety-ridden, ground kisser as I stepped off the plane. We had a (very warm) layover before our flight to Berlin and it was amazing to know as we sat on the floor of the airport that that was the farthest away from home I had ever been. After flying through the air for basically nine hours and using a plane bathroom for the first time, I was relieved, excited, and so ready to be in Berlin and officially start this crazy new part of my life.
“He who travels has stories to tell.” Gaelic proverb
There are many more stories to be told about these weeks of my life. I know that there was more to be said in this post, but sometimes good things come to those who wait. And you, you stranger on the internet, have some stories to be told if you hang around a little while longer. I have traveled. I have come a long way to be here. I am a work in progress and I have stories to be told.