The mirror of sedentary traveler

For: Ricardo Coarasa

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Few things are most exciting that the expectation of a trip. The check, especially, when life takes you away from suitcases and airports, of adrenaline that infects a plane ticket. The traveler passes as the bullfighter: refuses to cut the queue. Now marks two years of my last big trip. In these months I have traveled, less than they would have liked, but I have not experienced that excitement that precedes a chewed during long journey, scrawled on maps, immersed in books and duermevelas.

The sedentary traveler is forced to look in the mirror. Towards these other trips left behind, a surrogate to bear the routine and feed the nostalgia of the future. A ese primer avión rumbo a Athens to 18 years, a mock course weekend trip with three good friends while the rest of the class did the same in one organized by the center. Even then fleeing herd meekness, refuge for many insecurities. We arrived in the capital at midnight helena, without even booked hotel, and the next day we went by boat from Piraeus to miss a week for the Aegean islands.

The traveler passes as the bullfighter: refuses to cut the queue

It has been many years that, but not enough time to distort the emotions of that first experience traveling. Then that break, I felt like an adventure, I found dazzling. The hurricane of flights "low cost" had not yet burst into our lives and there was no news internet. It was all a bit more complicated (and expensive). I remember a trip back, this for several months, a Portsmouth, in southern England. You fiabas of mouth now, with a single click, overflows computer screen travelers thanks to the forums. A recommendation from a friend was enough to decide the fate and the host family. In the absence of mobile and email, we had only the phone booths of the English Court (I do not know if there are still) to make an international call and avoid the traffic of the big city drowning our poor English. We talked to the family in question and close the deal. Arrive within a week to your home. And I did. I had not heard before Portsmouth, but that was the least.

Then I found this stunning getaway. The hurricane of flights "low cost" had not yet burst into our lives and there was no news internet

As I said then (without Erasmus or anything) I found my first intrepid climb to meet the plane around 18 years. Now, however, everything is different. My five year old son has already flown half a dozen times, and has even crossed the Atlantic, and my little girl was released at an airport with only eight months to live. When you are my age, surely not come to understand that his grandfather, my father, flew only once in his life, a Copenhagen, and to celebrate its silver anniversary.

His travels, course, mine condition (also enrich, course, and filled with unexpected nuances). It's a joyful servitude, but servitude to the end of the, I lavished on projects that do not come to fruition and destinations that depart at the same speed with which the dream. Suddenly, have the opportunity to travel to Cape Town to share a few days with a good friend, to relames con un trekking (apologies for the anglicized) by Annapurna or a getaway to paladeas Carpathian with your wife. And your heart nods excited knowing that your chances of carrying out the plans are remote. So, inevitably, accumulation and pages and pages with profuse information on a handful of trips I do not know if I'll make.

Your heart nods excited knowing that your chances of carrying out the plans are remote

But, suddenly, remember one day walking through a city rushed Nordic that you walked away with a guilty conscience after a hit scale. And back to the load. Determined to go ahead, despite the sudoku of organizing domestic quartermaster during our absence (Thanks to everyone s). When these lines are published, already will be in Helsinki. O in Tallin. O in Stockholm. And, even for a few days, I will not have to look at the mirror.

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Comments (6)

  • Eduardo

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    A pleasure to read a story that vividly reflects the dreams, passions and sometimes unattainable desires of so many of us. And is that the end, dream of traveling, dream is to live. Thanks Ricardo

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  • Juan Antonio

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    As well expressed Eduardo: «soñar con viajar, es soñar con vivir». To dream of seeing places, people and cultures. As you once told a loved: «viajar y conocer otros países da apertura a la mente y al entendimiento» En mi caso, for my work, for which travel often, but not distant places, I know a lot of people and dealing with locals is a real treat and gives me that tingling you presses the curious, by knowing, by contact sincere, full and friendly……. They greatly enjoy where you landed Ricardo……. and then we relatas.

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  • Daniel

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    What a great story, Ricardo! I was moved by the idea that it is always the traveler but not exercised. Hope you're enjoying, no mirrors or maps or forum comments. Bon voyage, friend!!

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  • Nativity scene

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    I liked it, Ricardo. I have been identified with your words because I too am going, a while since my last trip and I look in the mirror to remember with nostalgia the adventures and lived. Y espero con ilusión las que vendrán 🙂

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  • Juancho

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    Knowing, Habras prepared this trip so that you fill the saddlebags another long season. Imagine your wife getting ready for a mature traveler, when those cubs roar and at home in the concrete jungle. Bon voyage, comrade!

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  • ricardo Coarasa

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    Thanks to all. Fresh from that trip and looks in the mirror. And, clear, Juancho, with saddlebags full of experiences. The pour here, and VAP, as always. Abzs

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