Sunday, February 14, 2016

Crazy, Spontaneous.

I'm all for planning. I keep a notebook where I write down my travel plans for the coming years. Without my destinations having yet attained finality, I already search the net for tips on the where-to's and what-to's. I'm a freaky planner like that. Only one thing or person  comes into consideration when choosing which country to visit first - my son. Now that I've gathered enough courage to take the international plunge with him, thanks mainly to the Hong Kong trip in December 2015, I chose initially those countries that are considerably easier to tour with a pre-school in tow. For this year, concentrating on the South East Asian countries, I went with Malaysia and Cambodia.

I'm all for settling. In fact, this year, I'm seriously considering buying myself a house I can call my own...from my own salary, that is. Because right now, I have a house but it's my parents'. This is why right now, and also because the kid's in school, major travels with him are limited to school breaks - summer and Christmas holidays. And I think that's good because I'll have enough time to set aside the necessary budget for the trips and enough to set aside for the house. But for us restless souls, two trips aren't enough. Which is why I mark in the calendar all the long weekends we'll be having in the year so I can plan accordingly the quick adventure we'll be embarking on. Again, freaky planner.

I'm all for crazy and spontaneous. Being a freaky planner does not mean I'm giving up on these two traits that once defined my travels. However, crazy and spontaneous must not give way to safety. Like yesterday, on a Valentine's Day, friends and I went to Manaoag. This was planned. After mass, we took a quick drive to Baguio to have lunch. This was not planned. Crazy. Spontaneous. We left Baguio at 6 o'clock in the evening and was greeted with unbelievable traffic. Cousin, who was the designated driver, was so tired she would fall asleep while driving on the freeway, where cars passed by us at dangerously fast speed. Totally not safe. Sure we felt the rush of wanderlust when we drove to Baguio but we should have gauged our capacity and strength to stay awake while on the road. I kept praying the whole drive home - bring me home safely to my son.

I'm all for living my life, my way. I've said before, to myself anyway, that I'll not envy the others their nomadic life. But there are times when I do, and I get all depressed that I'm living my life when all I ever wanted was to live theirs. But I look at what I've accomplished and what I've set out to do, and although it may be slow by nomadic standards, at least it's satisfying our wanderlust. The most important thing is I have enough to be able to give the ones I love 'wings to fly, roots to come back, and reasons to stay.' Besides, it ain't a race. It's a journey.