The sky was looming with the promise of bad weather when I set out for breakfast. I’ve learned quickly that the weather arrives from over the Dhauladhars Ridge (big snowy mountain range) to the north, and that if one can see dark clouds over them, it will mean eventual dark clouds here.
Looking for comfort, I ordered the “farmer’s breakfast” which turned out to be a delicious omelet with tomatoes, onions and potatoes, with the whole thing being covered with cheese. Nostalgia came over me as a slowly ate my food: soon I would have to leave this town, and head back into the disappointing food of Delhi.
I noticed on the bookshelf a book belonging to a series a read a book from while in Pushkar. I had read the “last” (at the time of printing, but no longer) book of the series, and here was the first. I looked outside the window – the weather was cold and gray. The coffee shop / restaurant was warm and comfortable. I decided to grab the book and read. I had no plans for today anyway!
Over more food and a few cups of tea, I read the whole 300+ pages in one sitting. It had been a while since I had read so much so fast, and it was really, really nice. Nice to be doing something that I don’t often get the opportunity to do (and never did back home): sit in a café and lazily let the day pass by. It was lovely to have a constant buzz around from fellow travelers and monks, eating, chatting or simply just passing time. It was also nice to be somewhere with so much technology around: laptops, iPads and iPhones, Kindles… it was almost as if I could be back home.
I feel so comfortable here; I’m not looking forward to leaving. Delhi has no cute, cozy cafes, no Wi-Fi everywhere, no great food (I am only referencing the tourist ghetto here, although what I’ve seen elsewhere didn’t seem any better). I don’t know what to expect of Eastern Europe, but I do hope that it will have what most of us associate with Europe: great food, great cafes, and hopefully great places to sightsee and hang out. (Oh, and please, let the weather change and warm up! I am not equipped for snow…)
I think that part of me is tired, tired of always moving, traveling. Tired of the unexpected, of limited possibilities. I know that it’s just temporary, and I still get excited about so many thing, but right now, I really want “home”.
So much of it just feels like going with the motion, going along with it all – whatever that is. I’ve seen wonderful places, but I just haven’t had any real excitement about anything in a long time. Thailand, Bangladesh, India – they are lovely for so many different reasons, but they aren’t my cup of tea. I want to feel amazed, alive, thrilled, exuberant. Isn’t that what I should be feeling, traveling the world? Why can’t I feel anything but fleeting moments of it? I want to find that place that fills my heart, somewhere that I just can’t get enough of. I want to be reminded of why I’m here and why I’m doing this. I want to find the drive to keep going, and I want to feel gratitude for the ability to be doing what I am doing.
Is it normal that after 222 days / 7 months of traveling, that I’ve become jaded to it? That it would all seem… ordinary?
Fellow travelers, do you know what I’m talking about? And if so, how did you get over it?