Right now, I’m working on one of the stereotypes of the No
Kidding. You know the one, that because we have (ahem) “nothing else in our
lives” (apologies) we just travel the world. The words in quotation marks are
so obviously wrong, when I look at my life and the lives of all the women I
know who are in this No Kidding community, but they are so often behind the
subtle digs of others.
I recently was on the wrong end of a subtle dig from someone
in my life. She’s said openly and pointedly to me before that when old and dying, no-one wishes that
they had travelled more. (I haven’t had a chance to point out that our FIL has
openly said, now that he is unable to travel, that he wished he had done so much more in the thirty years since he retired.) This time, she noted that the only
photos that matter are the photos of family and social get-togethers. This was after
I had praised her for being good at her photos of people. Maybe I was being
over sensitive, but it felt as if she was getting a subtle dig in at my nature (not high on her list of important things) and travel photography.
Comments like this have made me think about travelling and question why I like it, and what the point is of exploring the
world. And I’ve come to the conclusion that it takes me out of myself, which is
something this person could usefully try once in a while! Okay, that might not
have been nice, but sometimes …
Anyway, my photos remind me, and others, of the beauty in this world, of our impact on others, on how lucky we really are, and of how important it is to be grateful for what we have, and where we live. I have no reason to be ashamed of that. In fact, I’m very proud of it.
Anyway, my photos remind me, and others, of the beauty in this world, of our impact on others, on how lucky we really are, and of how important it is to be grateful for what we have, and where we live. I have no reason to be ashamed of that. In fact, I’m very proud of it.
So back to my first point. I’ve written before why I love travelling. Yes, my husband and I are that stereotype of the childless couple who
travels. But here’s the thing. I would have travelled if I had had children
too. It’s one of the sadnesses of my life, that I haven’t been able to share my
joy in new places and new things with my children. I would have loved to share
my love of Thailand with children, to have spoken Thai to them and introduced
them to the country, the food (especially), and some of the culture and
philosophy of sanuk (similar to joie de vivre) and sabai (calm
and gratitude when everything is good). I don’t travel just because I am
childless. I travel despite being childless.
So I try to share my love of travel indirectly with others.
A friend went on safari with her boys after I had raved about it to them, and
after they had questioned me and asked to see my photos, and at the age that I
thought they would love it. They did. I think about families and their kids,
and what the children would love or not love about particular locations. I would
dearly love to travel with some of these families to see the look in my nieces’
and nephews’ eyes as they see something new for the first time. But they travel
with their friends, or with people who have children who can play with their
children. Not the boring old childless couple.
And so we travel alone. There's no alternative. Which is fine. I’m lucky though. Tremendously
lucky. I have a husband who enjoys travelling, and is as enthusiastic about it
as I am. (Though we do have different travel preferences!)
So this afternoon I have been furiously planning our next
trip. There’s a lot to do. I need to make some bookings. I'll let you know when I have.
