An everchanging pace. Rhythmic shifts and constantly evolving story.
The current soundtrack: Canned Heat's 'On The Road Again'.
Early rising and late nights, eye bags and a new caffeine addiction (there's worse substances I suppose). I've also taken to a new habit of singing softly to myself wherever I am- a joyful passtime and good way to keep unwanted attention at bay, people tend to think I'm a bit loopy, who knows, maybe they're right.
A heightened sensitivity to surroundings, temperature, atmosphere. To the sensation of different pavements underfoot. Blistered soles, a sore back, and an interesting new clicking knee. The price to pay for carrying with two straps, a trundle of treasures from the road. I can vouch that olive oil and jams are not the lightest souvenirs nor the smartest ideas.
Routine is abolished, replaced instead by a current, a flow in space and time. The road flows, railway tracks flow, days and nights flow, one learns to flow from place to place.
Always so much new. Travelling is a round-the-clock sensory overload. I find writing to be a good process to digest, to process this perpetually changing canvas of experience.
Thoughts from a dizzy-headed daze at a café terrace in Brest, Brittany. Photos from a metro in Marseille, Provence.
Comments