Every summer, we escape from London. So this summer was unusual for us. No flights, not seeing families, no socialising as much as some of us need to. It was a first for all of us, dog included. But the itch to get away was very much present in my life, more than the rest of the family, as I realised soon enough. But I have a feeling that I am not the only one who has the itch of escaping. The reasons for travelling are varied and complex for each of us. I love experiencing new things; my adventurous side is craving that. It doesn't need to be fancy; it doesn't even need to be something new or with new people. It just has to be away from home.
When I suggested to our daughter to come with me on a hike in Wales for three nights she kindly refused. What do you mean, you don't want to spend more time with your mum after four months of being together all the time?? Unbelievable the kids these days!!! Yes, it came as a shock and surprise. I took it badly. But here I was going on my own to climb Mount Snowdon and spend three nights in the land of consonants and rain: Wales. Solitude, which was exactly what I needed. I come from the mountain area in Romania and missed nature that overwhelms me, and makes me humble. Mount Snowdon did deliver. Leg pain, solitude while being surrounded by hundreds of people, and a quietening of the mind. It was equally sobering to experience the little seaside town Llandudno and the effects of the virus on the locals. I left with a sense of melancholy for the good old days. Driving alone for five hours to and from Wales was a joy. Every mum knows that. Bliss.
After that, Carsten and I escaped one night all the way to East London. Brick Lane is one area that brings back great memories of us being newly married, lazy afternoons before it became hipster land. So it was great to be just the two of us, walking around, eating for three hours, having sex in the middle of the day, looking at young people escaping just like us. We even managed to squeeze in a short argument, talk about Anna and the dog ;) We tend to be very efficient these days.
And our last escape was camping for six nights to Ewealeze Farm, near Weymouth. We got to swim in cold water, hide for several hours in the tent while the wind went crazy around us. We went fixing the tent pegs in the middle of the night in our underwear as the rain was lashing out. Fun. Ate 1kg of Nutella, argued, played cards and laughed at the whole affair. Sushi, our dog had a wonderful time escaping us. Literally. During our camping, we only heard non-accented English speaking people besides the cleaning men and the laundry ladies, which was something new for me.
Oh, I missed London and my bed. I came home with great memories, bad back, and two extra kilos around my waist. Also, a new refreshed love for our house, each other, our mad city, and friends. I think it was all worth it. Next time, I will bring friends and maybe go to France :)
Maybe the great escape is not so much about the new locations and things you get to experience but about meeting your inner self, whatever that might be: grumpy, fun, wet, or just plain crazy. I highly recommend it.