Travelling
My last day in Vancouver. I still have so much daylight left. If it were 6-7 years ago, I would have kept on walking or exploring, feeling almost a compulsion to see as much as I can to feel as if I’ve gotten as much as possible out of the trip. But now the things that gave me so much pleasure back then are not as appealing. I don’t have much interest in dropping by shops that sell knick knacks or overpriced scarves and accessories for tourists. I don’t feel the need to try restaurants with the highest reviews. Walking around the city is more draining than it used to be. Now I am happy if I’ve gotten a change of scenery and a mildly controlled disruption in my routines, spent a good part of the day in nature, and can rest my legs while working and writing at a cafe, preferably at a table outside in the sun under a parasol, or if inside, in a place without too many people or loud music.
I don't think this change is related to a decrease in energy although I do get fatigued more easily than I used to. I think it has to do with no longer feeling like I have to consume everything that is possible in a given moment. I now realize that travel is not about being able to say that I’ve been “there” and “seen that,” but it’s an extremely personal moment. It’s about how I experienced a part of a city, town, or country in which I happened to be in. This part is not a big geographical area. It’s a corner on the street, a point on a trail, a stream of crowds walking the busy street and taking me along in their current.
Right now I am sitting at a table on a sidewalk outside a cafe. People pass by in both directions. Cars do the same behind them. Facing me is a tree and a three-story sandy brown building. The first floor is a grocery store with a red awning. I had bought some water and snacks there when I first arrived here. Electrical lines hang from one pole to the next. Yellow tape and orange cones line a portion of the block to indicate a construction in progress. If I look up, there are high rise buildings behind the shorter buildings. But I don’t have any desire to look up. What I see is enough.