The last couple of weeks have been strange for me.
I had flights booked to Budapest last Sunday, returning Thursday. I had a hotel booked and my original plan was to travel alone, but my friend said he would join me. I have been to Budapest before but in the Summer months, I wanted to visit the thermal baths in the winter and visit the Christmas Market. My friend was no longer able to make it, but instead of going ahead with my original plans I decided to cancel the hotel reservation and stay home myself.
This decision got me thinking back to my travels this year.
I haven’t been outside Europe and my World pin map has barely changed, the majority of places I have been this year I have been to before. Samaria Gorge in Crete was absolutely lovely, but I spend just as much if not more time relaxing by the swimming pool or in one of the many bars and tavernas in Crete. Only a year before, before my plane had touched down I made a promise to myself to go back to Africa and see as much as I could. I couldn’t wait to get back on another safari, to visit the wonderful countries fellow travellers had so many fantastic stories to tell. The endless list of places I wanted to travel to was only getting longer and more exciting.
Then this happened.
I suddenly have no real desire to travel anywhere next year in the same way I have in the years gone by. It really feels as though, overnight, I have fallen out of love with travel. I am still trying to process this. I could see me travelling more often the further in my career I progressed and the more disposable income I will hopefully have. But now I can now understand why people prefer to spend a week by a pool, going no further than exploring the surrounding town. And I want to do it as well. A relaxing week in a small Spanish town by the sea or doing not much on another Greek island suddenly sounds more appealing than trekking the Himalayas or taking a trip down the Amazon.
Looking forward to next year, I have a four day trip to New York booked with my friends and a two week trip to Scotland with parents. I have been to New York before and this is a sporting weekend (we have booked tickets for NHL and hope to watch a NBA game). I am visiting Scotland with my parents, although this trip was arranged a few months ago. Bruges has almost become an annual pilgrimage for me and my friend, but no plans have been set in stone yet.
Is this feeling temporary? I really don’t know. But my friend is travelling back to South Africa in March, I am of course happy for her but there is no feeling of wishing I was going too. It’s a little unnerving and I don’t know what to make of it, but if anything I am glad it has got me back to writing another blog post.