Getting soft?

 

Our neighbours came back from their Xmas vacation overseas.  And they practically dropped to their knees to kiss the ground they were on when they returned to the island.  They really missed being here.  It is a feeling I know well.

I used to love traveling.  I no longer do.  Not as much, anyway.  I am losing my wanderlust.  I am even losing my ‘Indiana Jones’ gene.   Real adventure is not as attractive to me anymore.  I prefer to be here.

Mind you, my island life seems to be adequately satisfying my waning need for any adventure albeit usually with more painful outcomes, I must admit.  This is enough for me – sometimes a smidge too much.  I have to be careful but I am content.  I guess it is just age.  But I think it is partly about having found a place I truly feel is home.

(I guess anyplace with a large, fully equipped first-aid kit would do for me but I prefer this one).

My neighbour said, “I just looked at my cabin and marveled at the beauty and, surprisingly, the size of it.  It seemed huge!  I think it was the stunning view rather than the cabin itself but it felt vast and open after a few weeks of smallish hotels and planes. I just love the feeling of freedom and space.  Ya don’t get that in cities and certainly not in the Asian ones we went to.  Ohmygawd!  This is great!” 

“Would you go back?”

They both looked stunned.  The question just hung in the air.  They answered slowly….. “Well, yeah.  It was good.  Interesting.  I’d go back.  I think.  But, I dunno……..”  

I know that feeling, too.  Even tho the trip was good, it was NOT as good as the feeling of returning to the cabin.  At least not at the time of the question.  Maybe later…………..

We all, of course, still feel a bit of the travel-bug and the lure of greener grass on the other side of the planet.  Marketers are good at what they do.  We succumb.  And it is hard to admit a simple preference for home.  Feels dopey.  But I can feel it coming.  So could they.

We are very close to quitting the hostel, the chicken bus and the cheap air-fare searches.  I never really liked backpacks, anyway.  And I doubt that we’d last very long at the resorts and the luxury insults to the local communities that are the next most logical travel choice.  Or cruises.  Nor can we afford the experiment to find out.  I don’t think I could do that for more than a week anyway and, even at that, only once.  Maybe twice.  Mint juleps served at the infinity pool was never my thing.

Sal, of course, is keeping an open mind.

This is all coming from the fact that we are into January and the dead of winter.  If it was as bleak and cold and dreary as it can be, I wouldn’t be talkin’ so big.  I’d be scanning the ads for a way out.  I know that, too.  Easy to talk big when the weather is mild and we can still play (or hurt ourselves) outside.  But, that is the point, really.  Right now, we can still be outside.

Partly it is because the weather is relatively mild but it is equally because we have acclimated somewhat.  We are accustomed and set up for winter.  We have adjusted.  Part of living out here is adjusting and winter is the last obstacle to overcome and we are getting there.

Don’t get me wrong.  I haven’t gone all Jack London on you.  I can’t play in sub-zero, arctic conditions unless there is a ski chalet nearby with hot chocolate and a flight home on the schedule.  Blizzards are not us.   But we are not facing blizzards.  We are not cold.  We are comfortable.  Maybe it is global warming?  Maybe it is just getting our systems in order?  I dunno.  All I do know is that winter is easier to handle this year.  And I like it more.

So do my neighbours.

 

 

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