Traveler's Realities

As a preface, I would like to say that due to the number of requests I received to keep writing, Les Jeux de Mot will continue, though perhaps on a slightly less regimented schedule.

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There are a number of realities that a traveler must face. Some of these are innate hazards. Theft is a particularly painful and unnerving one. I thankfully avoided that particular situation. Losing or forgetting things is another pitfall that can be troublesome - and yet another I did not suffer. Getting lost yourself can be quite terrifying, particularly if you do not speak the local language. Of course, some travelers want to lose themselves, so getting lost is a blessing rather than a curse.

While I avoided any of these, I did encounter another decidedly less sexy hazard of traveling: bed bugs. I'm told that in recent decades, the combination of the use of less lethal pesticides and increased global travel (ah, so I'm part of the problem) has resulted in the increase of the worldwide bed bug problem. Yes, it's true I was attacked by bed bugs. It remains unclear whether they snuck into my bag, only to pop out in Toronto and feast on me while I slept unaware of 360 degree attack, or whether they bit me while I was in Europe and the bites only manifested themselves once I got home.

My poor dear travel partner, Alex, got bites while we were in Amsterdam. While I was spared the itchy red bites while actually traveling, the hundreds of them spread all over my body did not make a nice homecoming present. I am happy to say, however, that the bites are gone and if there were ever any bed bugs that made their way back to Toronto (we never actually saw anything suspicious), they have been fully exterminated.

No harm done and yet another travel lesson learned.

Another hazard of traveling is one that every traveler must face: going home. (Ok, granted there are some nomads who refuse to be pinned down by such a traditional concept as a home, but let's leave them aside.) Going home marks the end of one's travels - whether temporarily or permanently. It is the end of the excitement and the return to the familiar. It most likely brings mixed emotions.

The romance of traveling is infectious. Once you get it into your system, it is hard to shake. You yearn for the open road, for a new, strange place to visit, and to hear those around you talking in a foreign language. You grow to love the anonymity of being a traveler - of knowing that no one around knows who you are or where you came from and that you will likely never see any of them ever again. Traveling not only allows you to rediscover (or perhaps discover for the first time) yourself, but it allows you to reinvent yourself. If so inclined, you can be whoever you want to be, temporarily released from the bonds of the persona you have built among family and friends at home.

But home is home. It is comfortable. It is familiar. It is warm and safe and wholesome. It is a release from living out of a suitcase, from sleeping in a different bed every night (with bed bugs!), and from eating in restaurants 3 meals a day. It is a return to what we know, a return to those we love. It brings us back to knowing - knowing the local stores and restaurants, knowing the streets, knowing the people, knowing the local practices. It is an easier life.

I am home now and have closed the European chapter of my travels. I will be mostly home in Toronto - with perhaps a few weekend trips - until mid-February. And then I have big plans.