They say that travel changes you. And by “they” I mean people who 3 weeks ago I would have scoffed at.
But either I’m still completely loopy from yesterday’s 26 hours of travel to get home, or perhaps travel does have an impact on a person’s existence.
When this plan was loosely hatched, I had no idea if it would turn out okay. But on the other side of it, I KNOW that I can wander around foreign places for nearly 3 weeks with only what I can carry on my back. And even though I can’t pretend that I was any sort of pioneer, everyday was an adventure of trying to learn how to navigate a million unplanned puzzles.
I knew I was in for some battle when I tried to use my debit card on day one and realized that life is easier when you can read what the pin pad is saying. We learned how to negotiate metro systems in 3 countries. They’re well organized, but the way my brain reads “Canilljas” and the way it’s said on the PA are two very different things. This lead to going the wrong way on a train, getting off too early on a bus, getting off too late on a bus, and irritating enough bus drivers I may never be allowed back in Spain. I was scolded for improprieties in no less than 4 languages. I wished for a shirt that said in Spanish, Italian, and Portuguese, “I’m not trying to be rude or dumb, I really just can’t understand a thing that’s happening.” I didn’t know how restaurants worked (sounds basic, but they’re different), I didn’t know when I was being called to a cashier in grocery stores, I had to learn new bathroom things, new things about hostels, and so much more it makes my head spin.
But we did it.
And with the knowledge that we can comes a level of confidence and self-reliance that is welcomed beyond measure.
Add to this the feeling that comes with a healthy dose of understanding one’s own insignificance, and you get a recipe better than Napoli pizza sauce.
Hang with me. Feeling insignificant is not a bad thing. It’s a needed perspective shift.
On this trip, there were a million and one ways to remind yourself of what a blip on the radar we all are. For instance, we rode the train from a stop near our hotel to “Piazza del Colosseo” which is (you guessed it) near the Colosseum. This was on our 2nd day in Rome. By this time, we’d seen a staggering amount of ancient architecture in Spain, Portugal, and Rome.
“There’s this thing” we would gesture to some splendor as our comedic attempt at creating our own walking tour. Each corner you turn in any of the places we were was littered with historical beauty. It was far too much to take in appropriately. So we were already at a level of saturation for being wowed. But then,…
At the Piazza del Colosseo, you walk upstairs from the train directly across the street from a engineering miracle.
The scale of it all can’t properly be understood until it smacks you in the face. If there are words to describe how it feels, I have no idea what they are.
Don’t get me wrong, I know it’s bad that Romans used slaves to build it and that killing in the name of entertainment are bad. I’m not endorsing either of those things. What I am saying is that it’s incredibly impressive that 2000 years ago some sandal wearing dudes decided how to put rocks together in a way that would hold 65,000 people, as many as the new Allegiant stadium in Vegas. Two. THOUSAND. years ago And it’s still standing!
It boggles the mind to think that in 10 years’ time they built something that far outlasted their civilization. For comparative purposes, the courthouse in Shasta County took 6 years to build. And that’s with computers and tools and such.
Overall on our trip, Rome was not my favorite place. The amount of people and absence of spatial awareness only led to me stiff arming one lady though many others had it coming. Despite the city getting 35 million visitors per year, we only found one public bathroom. Even if you’re a train ticket holder, you still have to pay about $1.70 to use a toilet at the station. Regardless, seeing that structure was completely worth it.
I will remember the way it felt to see that magnificent landmark for the rest of my life. However, time will not remember that I was there. And that’s where the healthy level of insignificance comes into play.
I know that when I reenter reality here in couple of days, my zen state will be tested and I’ll probably cave at the first inconvenience, but I really shouldn’t. WHEN someone cuts me off on the 44 interchange, it shouldn’t matter. It’s a little thing in the grand scheme of things. No one cares if you haven’t done your hair or worn a proper bra for 3 weeks. It doesn’t matter that the peer said the thing that they knew would get your goat. None of that is what any of this is about.
In short, “they” are right. Travel does change you. Leave it to me to think 35 million people might be wrong.
Sorry for all the words, I have even more to come, but I appreciate this forum (get it, like the Romans!), to catalogue my thoughts on the adventure.
If you’ve read along, thanks for being a part of the trip. I’ve enjoyed writing about it and hope you’ve liked it as well (“Are you not entertained?!” -Maximus Decimus Meridius bwah ha!).
And now to plan the next adventure!
Bifocals and Barbells 