On the road -- just like on a yoga mat -- I feel like I've arrived.
I love cities and I like to go East (although I've been increasingly drawn by the West -- watch out Americas!). I prefer to travel light and only pack what I can carry. Easily and for some time. The last thing I want on the road is to be weighed down by stuff. Pack a little bag and go, leave all the baggage of the everyday behind. At least the physical baggage. Because the emotional one will inevitably pop up every now and then, and that's fine -- I get to see it in a new light, from a new angle, in a new context. An aha moment or two might occur.
Going places is as important to me as air. It feeds my soul. I can breathe deeper. I stand taller. I can just stop and be. Then and there. Here and now. Notice the little things. Absorb every little detail of my surroundings. The mind slows down and settles. Silence. Stillness. I notice the spaces between the frames. Like an old fashioned slide show. Nothing else matters.
I'm an introvert by nature and I love spending time by myself. But another me comes out when I travel because connecting with people makes the whole experience feel real. I talk to anyone who's willing to listen, the locals, other travellers, anyone. I want to know their story. What they do, how they live. I could people watch forever. What they wear, how they interact.
One thing I never miss is the local market. An obvious place for a tourist to go in exotic locations but I am equally fascinated by local supermarkets when I travel around Europe. What's on the shelves tells its own story of a place. Then there are weekend markets, farmers markets, flea markets. Just give me any kind of market and I'll be completely happy!
Strangely for me, I have no travel plans at the moment. My itchy feet are calling again, my soul demands another cleanse. So for now, I am reminiscing over my recent snaps from Paris.