Postcards and Bagpipes: Notes On a Friend’s Travels

via Hostelworld.com

One of my friends has just came back from a month in the UK. She was there for part of her college practicum and then took advantage of her location to visit a friend (and also to tourist it up).

She stopped by this evening to hand-deliver a postcard that she had written and addressed, but never mailed. Instead, the postcard stayed tucked in a book that stayed with her in Wales (where it was written), Paris, London, Aberdeen until she arrived back in British Columbia, Canada, where we call home.

We stood at the door and talked for the better part of an hour. She only meant to drop by for a brief “Here I am! Here’s your postcard- have some whisky fudge” before heading home to get her jet-legged self to bed. She is happy to be home and tired from travel, but as soon as our conversation hit on something about her travels that excited her, she would light up. She mentioned the musical she had seen (Charlie and the Chocolate Factory), the food she had eaten, the castles she visited (including Dunnotter Castle from Pixar’s Brave), the play she attended.

Sometimes my friend was calmly pleased with what she described. Other times, her eyes sparkled and her grin was enormous. There were times that she stood on my doorstep with her hands clasped in front of her as she swayed slightly- the picture of childish, wholehearted glee. Her joy in the opportunities provided by travelling is inspiring and magical. Her joy is the essence of what travel is and how frequent (voluntary) displacement can infuse a person with perspective and wonder.

She described her visit to St. Andrews in Scotland: She and a friend visited a graveyard next to an old church. As they walked among tilted, weathered gravestones, a bagpiper began to play, just over the stone wall. For my friend, this was the Scotland that she had envisioned. She felt giddy and tremendously happy.

This is travel done right- with excitement and thrills.

My friend’s travels were not without difficulties- her companions were not ideal (being satisfied in letting my friend plan their day-to-day routes to the point where they couldn’t navigate the London Tube on their own), hostels are not my friend’s ideal accommodation, and the beds in both the dorms in Wales during her practicum and in the hostels caused her to long for her own bed (which is the point of hostel beds, isn’t it?).

But difficulties allow cherished experiences to shine. Will she ever forget the awe she experienced while immersed in the play in Edinburgh? Will the memory of the perfect quintessentially Scottish moment in the graveyard be lost? I doubt it. Our memories shift and while the giddiness may fade at each remembrance, memories like these are ours forever.

D’you know what? I’m glad she never sent the postcard- that 4″ x 6″ card acquired something in its travels, too. And it is all the better for it.

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Of course, hearing about my friend’s time in Scotland has only caused my own wanderlust to resurface. This time last year, I was in London, only a few days from leaving for Oxford. The intervening year has been challenging to my traveller’s heart- I realized that it’ll be a good four years before I am able to travel again and that realisation has become a burden. I follow Hostelworld.com on Facebook, and they recently posted this picture which sums the desire of this traveller’s heart:

via Hostelworld.com