You Are The Sum Of The Stories You Can Tell

Last time this year, I was a clueless girl walking with 50 kgs of luggage trying to find my way to my new house, a house that I would share with people from 5 different countries. It took an immense amount of courage. Even today, when I go through my GIP pictures, I get goose bumps thinking about how I managed to overcome all barriers of language, climate and culture and yet managed to make a beautiful home for me in a small town in France. Everyday was an adventure, from finding groceries, to finding roads, to getting lost within the university campus. I found joy in small moments like understanding a new French word, finding the perfect bottle of wine, making a perfectly cooked steak or just making a friend from a new country. I have challenged myself to make a friend from each country in the world and right now, my count stands at 23. 

Walking in well fitted black coats with the right pair of boots made me feel like I could conquer the world. Even if it just meant a stroll to the local grocery store, it made me feel like I have the power to pick out the freshest vegetables. I felt independence in its highest peak. Self checkout, hostel self check ins, pizza ATM, taking out garbage, fixing your own dinner and of course, driving your own self to the doctor. It was a time to be selfish, to immerse myself in every single thing possible. I was selfish with my time and all the aspects of myself. It was finally time to tinker with shit, travel, explore, love a lot, love a little and never touch the ground. There were parties that left us dancing till 6 am, spontaneous adventures that taught me more than I could ever learn in a classroom, there were nights that stay burned beneath my eyelids and memories that dance under my skin.
I wished to try as many types of meat as possible in the 5 months, and I’m so glad I did cause without that I wouldn't have discovered my love for duck and turkey. From the French Rackalette, the Hungarian goulash and the Czech Trdlnik, the French croissants and the Belgium waffle. I thank my luck every day to have tasted such beautiful food from all over the world. 

The excitement of being pursued by a sharp looking man who doesn’t even speak your language got me on my toes. I danced and partied with the coolest people without even bothering to exchange our names. I saw the most beautiful sunrises and the most pristine sunsets. I heard the first chirp of the birds early in the morning waiting at the bus stop that would take me to one of the many adventures that awaited me.
Ryan Air, Flix bus, BlaBla Car, Eurolines, thanks for being my lifeline. The thrill in opening a page of Ryan Air and seeing the opportunities within your reach is the most beautiful feeling ever. Opening the map of Europe and literally making an itinerary for the next week made me feel invincible. I travelled to places I couldn’t even pronounce earlier. I can’t even begin to elaborate of the stories we’ve made within the dorms of the small hostels. 
Meeting friends back from India after months felt like a warm hug after a long night out in the cold. Being treated to Rajma Chawal and Butter Chicken sounded more fancy than a five course French meal. Homesickness came in waves but I learnt to make myself stronger.
All the books and movies on the world wars came to life when I visited Berlin, Amsterdam and Prague. I could imagine Mary Anotionette walking on the streets of Vienna in all her glamour; I pictured the great French revolution and the struggles of the cold war. I felt connected to the stories I’d heard all my life.

Pictures will never do justice to the post card worthy country of Europe. I remember when I had to choose between a trip to Sweden or an Ed Sheeran concert. And I’m so glad I chose to go to Stockholm. The songs I heard on the long bus and train journeys will always provide me with the warmth of an old home. There were so many times that my GPS failed and I was lost, but it didn’t matter cause my heart was racing and I was finally living. Everyday was a decision between staying in bed or adding another chapter to my fairytale.
I went to the most pristine churches, mosques and synagogues. Words and songs from so many different languages are jumbled up in my head and provide me with calmness in situations of unfamiliarity. Coming back from a trip and trying to contain the bits into my scrapbook was the happiest feeling ever. Going through the pages of the diary yet reminds me of the happiest memories I have made with myself. The world is full of beauty and charm and there is no end to adventures we can have, if only we seek them with our eyes open. I explored a life beyond my imagination. And if travel is like love, it is mostly because it is a heightened sense of awareness, in which we are mindful, receptive, in dimmed by familiarity and ready to be transformed. That is why the best trips, like the best love affairs, never end.

When I got home, everything was the same. But something in my mind had changed, and that changed everything. Even after a year now, I fail to put my wings down. As Leonardo Da Vinci once said, ‘Once you have tasted the taste of sky, you will forever look up.’

We are storytelling animals and cannot to bear to acknowledge the ordinariness of our daily lives. Lille, thanks for finding me my extra ordinary, I will always be grateful.

Comments

  1. Wonderful articulation of all the experiences. Cheers

    ReplyDelete
  2. Quite a wonderful way to play with words in order to paint a picture of your journey in France.
    Fortunate you are to be able to live life for the adventure that it is,
    the story of your metamorphosis is quite a fairytale like you have described.
    Cheers to the crazy adventure that is life.

    ReplyDelete

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

My favorite year

A few thank you's