03 Nov 2020

 

I miss when airplanes would go where you want them to go. 

I miss having jet lag and sleeping on the dirty airport floor. 

I miss booking a trip on a whim. To escape a breakup. To gain independence. Or just to get away.

I miss attractions being open and darting my way through tourists, touts and cluttered markets.

I miss the dodgy motorbikes, the rickety trains and the god-awful traffic.

I miss the big, crowded cities. The overrated, the overpriced and the hidden gems.

I miss people-watching and making sure they get a photo perfect for the gram.

I miss flying all the way across the world only to eat maccas for my first meal. I even miss the Bali belly, the Dehli belly and all the unpleasant experiences that come with eating dodgy street food.

I miss the cheap hostels and being too affectionate with strangers. I miss mingling with other like-minded and weird people, and of course the drunken travellers in the backpacker bar. I possibly even miss the two people having sex in my dorm room, maybe even the snorer or the guy with stinky feet. 

I miss wearing my thongs in the shower and holding my nose in some questionable bathrooms.

I miss being able to walk around freely. I even miss the gypsies and the pick-pocketers who stole a $20 from my purse. 

I miss getting lost and whipping out google translate.

I miss the sunrises and sunsets in every new desintation.

I miss forcing my friends to do crazy sh*t. I even miss the fights we'd have after spending way too much time together. 

I miss all the experiences who shape me as a person. 

I'd take a delayed plane over no plane at all. 

But maybe this is the point? Now we can be more grateful and astounded by the world.