Farewell Firenze?
This is my second or third last night in Italy. It has been 9 days since I've set off from London on this solo Italian trip. Initially I had been very gung-ho, booking the first flight back in on Tuesday morning, with the intention of going straight in to work (late) from the airport.
But as the days pass, I find myself being more tired than expected, and more travel-weary than I would have imagined given the relative shortness of the trip, and the fact that it is, after all, in a tourist magnet developed country with decent infrastructure, even though people don't generally speak English.
Yet somehow, I long for home. I long for my warm bed, creature comforts, for not feeling terrible about being anti-social. Most people in the hostels seem to travel in groups, or at least in pairs. And everyone seems to be able to meet new people, chat, and get along.
Myself, I find myself feeling knackered at the end of the night. And generally not up for the strain of meeting new people, engaging in social chit chat. Although, when I have been approached and therefore made the effort to actually engage, I find the experiences actually fun and enjoyable.
My shyness and general independence or aloofness is holding me back from fully experiencing the full adventure that is solo travelling.
This trip has been a good learning experience though. I find that I like myself, but not enough to spend 10 days alone in my company. I find that, whereas in the past, whenever I had an extended period of free time, especially when on the 6 hour bus journeys shuttling back and forth between Malaysia and Singapore, I used to think a lot and brood, and 9 times out of 10 would end up crying, until, tired out by the tears, I would fall asleep; this time though, I still think, but I am happier, far more balanced (though still a long way from being in a state of bovine contentment). I do not cry. I look at my life, where I am going, with relative detachment.
Or maybe it is because I have either fewer things to be sad about or more things to be happy about.
I don't know if I should stay here and face more demons. Or return home tomorrow, at the high cost of booking a new flight.
There is cotton wool in my head right now, I will decide tomorrow.
But as the days pass, I find myself being more tired than expected, and more travel-weary than I would have imagined given the relative shortness of the trip, and the fact that it is, after all, in a tourist magnet developed country with decent infrastructure, even though people don't generally speak English.
Yet somehow, I long for home. I long for my warm bed, creature comforts, for not feeling terrible about being anti-social. Most people in the hostels seem to travel in groups, or at least in pairs. And everyone seems to be able to meet new people, chat, and get along.
Myself, I find myself feeling knackered at the end of the night. And generally not up for the strain of meeting new people, engaging in social chit chat. Although, when I have been approached and therefore made the effort to actually engage, I find the experiences actually fun and enjoyable.
My shyness and general independence or aloofness is holding me back from fully experiencing the full adventure that is solo travelling.
This trip has been a good learning experience though. I find that I like myself, but not enough to spend 10 days alone in my company. I find that, whereas in the past, whenever I had an extended period of free time, especially when on the 6 hour bus journeys shuttling back and forth between Malaysia and Singapore, I used to think a lot and brood, and 9 times out of 10 would end up crying, until, tired out by the tears, I would fall asleep; this time though, I still think, but I am happier, far more balanced (though still a long way from being in a state of bovine contentment). I do not cry. I look at my life, where I am going, with relative detachment.
Or maybe it is because I have either fewer things to be sad about or more things to be happy about.
I don't know if I should stay here and face more demons. Or return home tomorrow, at the high cost of booking a new flight.
There is cotton wool in my head right now, I will decide tomorrow.
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