I think we can all
agree that holidays are awesome, right? I knew that, even though I
hadn't actually travelled anywhere significant in many years, but I
had forgotten just how amazing travel can be. There's something about
being far from home that makes everything so much more wondrous. I
love the adventure of it all. Now I know three weeks in England with
a brief side trip to Paris is not exactly “adventurous.” Sure,
they speak the same language as me. And yes, culturally there really
isn't much of a difference. And okay, most British people probably
don't even blink at an Australian accent any more, but for someone
who spent the best part of her thirties practising to be a hermit, it
was a huge leap. My anxiety can go into overdrive thinking about all
the things that could go wrong just leaving the house, so getting on
a plane and travelling to the other side of the world was
simultaneously terrifying and exhilarating.
The planning stages
were fine. I read every review and travel guide I could find, I
planned and organised and saved and booked to my heart's content. But
then sometime around January reality set in and anxiety took hold - I
became convinced that everything that could go wrong, would. I
imagined lost luggage and delayed flights, missed hotel bookings and
below-freezing temperatures. Not that any of that would matter, since
I'd be laid up with the life-threatening DVT I was going to acquire
on the plane, anyway. It got ridiculous, even for me. I seriously
wondered if I should get professional help. And then something
amazing happened: I just stopped. Worrying, that is. I realised I was
wasting precious anticipation time worrying about things I had no
control over, and I needed to stop. So I did. After years of letting
fear and anxiety make decisions for me, I finally discovered the key
to overcoming them was just to do it, despite the fear and anxiety.
Yes, after a lifetime of ridiculing self-help books I have finally learned
the value of “feel the fear and do it anyway.” Although I haven't
completely let go of my previous motto of “feel the fear and hide
until it passes.”
I had been to London 20
years ago, but it still felt like the first time. I love London, more
than I thought it would be possible to love a city. I feel so
comfortable there, in some ways even more than I do in Sydney. It's
such a user friendly city. Within minutes of arriving, having to kill
several hours before I could get into my hotel room, I had wandered into the
nearest tube station, bought an Oyster card and boarded a train. Me,
with my deep aversion to public transport, already gallivanting
around a strange city like a local. I had surprised myself! But it was on day two that my
love for London, and travelling, was cemented. As I made my way out
of Westminster station, busy thinking about what I was going to do
that day, I wasn't prepared for the sudden appearance of Big Ben,
magnificent in the glorious sunshine, right in front of me. I'm
pretty sure I stopped dead in my tracks, and there may have been a tear or
two. I was in London! The last time I remember feeling something
similar was 15 years ago in New York. At that moment, and for much of
the trip, I was completely and utterly happy. And that, more than
anything, makes me want to do it again and again. For three weeks I
didn't worry about everyone and everything, I wasn't anxious or
fearful. Sure, there were moments here and there that weren't so
awesome (I won't be rushing back on to the Paris Metro any time soon,
for example), but they were very few. At that moment, and for most of
the next three weeks, I was just happy.
I love that everything
seems exciting on holiday, no matter how small. Every day is full of
wonder and new discoveries, even a trip to the supermarket feels like
an adventure. (Okay, that one might just be me.) I miss so many
things about being holiday. I miss London, with its beautiful
museums, spectacular buildings, gorgeous shops and lovely people. I miss getting on the tube and going somewhere
different every day. I miss stopping at Marks and Spencer on the way
back to the hotel and stocking up on British treats. I miss
Southampton (no, really) and my lovely friends, who were so kind and
generous and welcoming. I miss their adorable pet bunny and her adorable bunny ways. I miss Tunnock's Tea Cakes and my nightly
dose of Come Dine With Me. But more than anything, I just miss the person I was on
holiday. She was awesome.
