I remember the trip quite vividly. It was my first time backpacking in the foothills of the English countryside. We had no real itinerary, just a map in our hands and an open ticket. We saw so many amazing places and often reveled in silence together. It was a bittersweet time because it was a trip with an impending goodbye. It was also a happy time for me because I was traveling and exploring places where natural beauty was wildly abundant and untouched by time (some even traversed by Tolkien himself).
It's probably silly of me to think about it now, but I was reminded of that wrinkle in time by my wallpaper photo (of all things). The landmark we were supposed to see was closed for the evening, so we improvised and explored around it, over it and under it. It was a decent hike to the top of the cliff, and well worth it. We were the only two people there. With clear blue skies, we could see stretches of land and sea for miles in all directions. We saw the tip of France.
As much as it was a trip of two, it was also a trip of one. Despite an initial travel mishap and being stranded in London alone, jetlagged and dragging 45 pounds of dead weight, I decided to embrace the experience. By plane, train, bus and foot, I traveled to the point of exhaustion, but my brain was wide awake. My senses were always stimulated, yet tapped into a sort of calm that only happens when one's heart is happy and contentedly full.
It was a trip with purpose. I became a wanderer and a seeker. I walked away with a renewed sense of purpose, self knowledge and spirit. And with every trip thereafter, that knowledge continues to unfold. The heart is fed. The spirit is awakened.
