Travelling can be a drag. Don’t get me wrong: I love travelling, and I love the continuously-travelling-lifestyle. I wouldn’t trade it for anything else. But after a while it gets to you. You get tired. You start craving some comforts from home. Some would call this home sickness. I simply call it time for a break.
A few days ago I realised that I had reached that point again. I’d been on the move for the last two months plus, and the most time I spent in one place was five nights (in Luang Prabang, Laos). While researching my next destination I felt weary, and didn’t look forward to visiting yet another place at all. Also, work had been piling up lately, and it was nagging at me in the back of my mind. It wasn’t a good state of mind to be in. And certainly not a good spirit to dive into yet another travel adventure.
So I decided to take a break from travelling for a week. I returned to Chiang Mai yesterday, which is a well-developed and connected city, and spent most of the day walking around and scouting for a decent hotel or apartment. (Spoiler: I found one, which is another story.) For the next seven days I will spend most of my time working, exploring the local coffee shops, markets, and street eats.
A little secret: I actually enjoy exploring such mundane aspects of a city. Most people prefer to see impressive monuments, eat at the best-rated gourmet restaurants, and spend their nights in the most popular bars. I like finding a store that sells excellent cheese or wine; a street food stall that makes my favourite dish perfectly; a park where I can read without being bothered by vendors or traffic noise; a place where I can play board games. They are the things that I would look for in my home town, and I relish finding them abroad.
That’s it for now. In seven days I hope to have worked away my back log, be a bit more relaxed, and be ready for travel again.