Today, I’m all about Europe.
Yep, it’s approaching the fourth anniversary of my trip to England and every year this strange phenomena happens: I get the crazies about the U.K.
I cannot truly explain the longing that I feel for that place. It’s an ache. If I had been there longer, I would almost call it homesickness. Never in my life have I ever felt as though I truly BELONGED (even though I was totally a stranger in a strange land). The few hours I spent at Avebury have affected me more than I can rationalize. They felt like a dream and a lifetime all wrapped into one. Everything vibrated there. The stones felt hot. The air hummed. And the wind whispered… Weetabix. Ok, I got carried away there. My apologies to Jimmi Hendrix.
But seriously, it was a strange time. The day that we went to Avebury, I had gone to Stonehedge, Avebury, the Long Barrow, and I believe also Canterbury. It was a cold day, and I think we had walked over 6 miles that day, totaled up. That night, I was completely wired. I felt no pain. We went to a bar and an Oriental restaurant. I stayed up way past my bed time. I was walking faster than the fast people. I was glowing. Truly, truly glowing. People, I realize how sappy I sound, but I can’t help it.
And now, with the appearance of lilacs on my tree in the front yard, comes the intense longing for lilting accents and rounded landscapes. There are no straight lines in England. Flying over the US, you see for miles, straight straight lines dissecting the countryside. Coming down into England, everything was rounded, natural and flowing. Very organic. I can see why UFO’s like to make crop circles there!
It doesn’t help that I’ve been chatting with a chap in Ireland, who’s got the most heavenly voice and accent. I wonder if they realize how hot they are when they speak? It reminds me of how harsh my own accent is. It reminds me of my last week in England when my interior mind-voice began to think in a soft Anglic accent. Vowels began to loose their edge and words began forming in a round, natural way. Everything slowed down. I miss that English Weetabix-brain voice.
The Key West trip simply has opened things up for me. I had shut the door to travel for so long. Do you realize that I was on the plane to England and I still did not totally believe I was going there. I did not believe it until I woke up the next morning, after spending the previous day in London, and I was still in England. When I went to Key West, I was back in the carefree mindset which I had embodied back in 1997 on the Isle. It’s addicting. Landing in a plane is addicting. The pseudo-tiredness of travel is exciting.
And what kills me is that I COULD GO if I chose to. There are fare deals all over. $718 dollars round trip from Green Bay to Dublin or London. Even cheaper to Rome, if I so chose. I could pack up and take off. It’s so easy since I’ve already got a passport (but I’d have to find it of course!).
Instead, I’m feeling trapped by the fact that Esteban would most likely object and also I’d have to finagle some vacation out of nowhere.Plus, I’d want to buy the new camera lens before I went so I could take 200 rolls of pictures. So now it’s over $1000 and I haven’t even packed or gotten off the ground! Then there’s a place to stay and food and actually doing fun things! Yikes.
Guess I’ll just wait until the “Anglo-sickness” passes!
