Let the good thoughts flow
Once I’ve adjusted to being on my own, inspiration abounds.
One of my favorite things about solo travel is that I have no one to talk to, no one to consult with, no one to check in with. This may not sound so great, but stay with me.
At first, being alone can be challenging, especially if I’m tired, which I often am on the first day. I’m in Amsterdam right now and sure enough, that’s what happened when I arrived. My flight was late and by the time I arrived, I was past my “sleep window” and so said yes to a cup of tea with my B&B host, and ended up going to bed at about 2am. At 50+ (ok, ok, pushing 60), I don’t do 2am so well. Maybe I never did it super well, but now, not at all.
So next day I was tired, and not motivated. It’s at those times I sometimes feel lonely and can get a bit down because I’m not doing much. But you know, I’ve done this many times now and I’ve learned. I’ve learned to give myself that first day. When I’ve traveled far, I might need two days.
If I give myself that time to adjust, to let my body and mind realize that I’m in new surroundings, then some relaxation sets in. That’s the first step back to myself, you know the open, adventurous, ready for anything me. Allowing some space at the beginning to settle a bit is like an investment in the trip, an investment in me.
Now back to this trip. Yesterday was a wash. Luckily I was in beautiful surroundings that encouraged me to just be, and, to be ok with that.
The next day is golden. Almost always. Today was.
Today I walked. And walked. And walked more. And looked around and around. Taking in so much that is different that my daily life. Different than my sense of style. Different than what I know. Savoring each drop, using my whole body to do so. I walked until my feet and my bladder insisted that I take a break. I sat down with a coffee; I don’t remember coffee tasting that good in a long while.
After a bit of rest, more walking. More taking in the city with my whole being.
My feet were aware of the uneven stone or brick sidewalks that went up and down with each step. My eyes savored so much, but I especially enjoyed the windows in the city, peeking at chandeliers and plants and unusual artwork. Smells were plentiful, and not just the coffeeshop variety. Food beckoned me to read menus and take in the vast choices, so many small, charming restaurants packed into Amsterdam. I googled number of restaurants in the city; apparently it’s over a thousand, but felt like several thousand to me. I chose one for a bite and glass of wine and savored that too.
Then I caught the train back to Zaandijk and walked back to my apartment. On the way I again peeked into the windows. The people in the Netherlands are tall as are the windows. Vast, and often at street level, you can easily see past the stunning vases or large beautifully potted plants to inviting kitchens, expansive living rooms and dens. You can even see the river, through the front window to the back. At night, the lighting creates a warmth as I briefly gaze past the window sill decorations, sometimes statuesque and beautifully potted plants, sometimes sculptures or old fashioned screens to see people working, reading, watching TV in beautiful spaces. It’s like each home is a design studio, only much more to my liking than most design studios.
Doing this kind of slow discovery is exciting in a gentle way. It’s a savoring that feeds you, leading to ideas and inspirations of all kinds. For me it’s the best way to inspire my writing, my photography, and my sharing of those.
Do I miss having a partner in crime? Sometimes, absolutely. Sometimes I write those I miss, send a picture, or give them a call. But often, I make a note to self. Return here with X. She’ll love it, and so will I, just like I’m loving it now.