Just returned from a wonderful vacation! Happy to be in my own bed, my own shower, air conditioning, and the regular use of such novelties as ice. All good, right? Not so fast for some of us.
I love to travel. I'll travel just about anywhere but I really love traveling in Europe. Last week I returned from 10 days in Eastern Europe with two friends and ten of the best high school students I could have ever traveled with. We went to Berlin, Prague, Krakow, Budapest, and even to Auschwitz-Birkenau. It was a pretty much perfect trip. We walked so much my 54 year old feet thoroughly hated me by the time they were given a reprieve, but I could have done more. I could have happily remained traveling for much longer. At 10 days, you're really just hitting your stride, right? But alas, the day comes and it's time to go home. Traveling home is always unpleasant because it doesn't have the anticipation of beginning a trip but instead the realization that it is back to reality. Yes, I miss my bed, but do I really have to go home? Yes, I miss my A/C and ceiling fans, but I'm adjusting; can't I just stay a little longer?
For me, the depression (and I don't use the word lightly here) begins on the journey back but then really hits about a day later. It's not that I don't want to come back at all, it's the lack of new stimulation, of seeing beautiful and exotic things, of learning about other parts of the world, and no longer being a part of the traveling tribe. When you're traveling in groups, the dissolution of the tribe is much more obvious, but it even happens if you've been traveling alone. In that case, the tribe is the people you've met along the way, the friends you've seen, or even the nice person in the train station who helped navigate you in the right direction when you were lost. The camaraderie of traveling with others is unique. Anyway, I miss all of that.
Although the melancholy is different between group and solo travel, the solo travel is almost harder to recover from for me. In the course of daily life, I often lose sight of my confidence in various things. When I travel alone, I have to navigate everything myself. It can be frustrating, but once done, I always feel confident that I've done so. Most of my individual travel overseas has been in the British Isles, so there hasn't been much of a language barrier. However, one year I decided to go to Italy for a week by myself. Everyone kept asking if I could speak Italian. No. How are you going to get around? I'll figure it out, and I did. I went to Perugia, Florence, and Rome. One slight error along the way though . . . . if you ever go to the amazing little town of Perugia, be sure NOT to get off the train at the first Perugia stop. Wait until you get into the city! I had fallen asleep on the train from Rome and woke up when I heard "Perugia." Naturally, I got off, only to find myself at a small, one building stop in the middle of nowhere with nobody able to speak English and the next train not coming for hours. Well, let's just say that I made it to the city, but it was really stupid of me all the way around. Didn't make that mistake again. Lol. In 1987, the summer after my first year of teaching, I went to England for a month, bought a BritRail pass and just hopped on and off the train wherever I felt like going. It was wonderful! But, I'm getting lost in the adventure again . . . .
My point is, for those of us who really love traveling, whether it's a big trip or a small one, you'll probably experience some post-trip depression, and it's perfectly normal. It means you had a good time. It means you are reliving experiences and people. It means you want to do more. It also means you're now back in reality. It will subside . . . . . as you start planning the next adventure.
