On The Road

I remember how it felt, after living within a one or two mile radius in central London last year, to finally leave the city and go… TO OXFORD. There is so much to do in the city of London that one has no real reason to leave, especially in the short-term. So I stayed within that world of a city for months, without fully realizing that my California wandering tendencies were making me more and more restless. Oxford is only about an hour outside of the city, but the bus ride was terribly exciting. I could feel myself leaving the confines of my life, I could feel the countryside change around me, I could even feel air quality improve. I trembled with anticipation. In the end, my day in Oxford was one of the coldest I have ever experienced: the snow was piled high on the streets, and the wind whipped across the countryside. By evening I was overjoyed to return to the more insulated city.

Given this experience however, I am now mindful that cities can be a bubble, and that one should never underestimate the importance of getting out and seeing the world from a different perspective. In other words, I knew that no matter how engrossing and wonderful my life in Madrid proved to be, it would also be vital for me to get out, if only every once in a while.

Setting up my life in Madrid was a full-time job in the first weeks, so I didn’t yet want, or think it prudent, to leave. But this last weekend, on the occasion of it being one whole month since my arrival in Spain, I was finally ready.

I hopped on a bus full of fellow students at midnight on Thursday night, and watched the stars out my window as we traveled north. Seven hours later, we arrived in Santiago de Compostela. The air smelt different, and felt different; the language sounded different; and the lifestyle looked different. Once again, I trembled with anticipation.

What followed was one of the best weekends of my life. We explored Santiago, then went to the sea. We visited museums, and THE cathedral. We ate traditional seafood, and tasted local wines. We explored, and found treasures, and got lost. I don’t think I’ve ever laughed so much in one single weekend.

It was grand. And yet, after a second seven-hour bus ride on Sunday, I found that I was profoundly happy to be HOME. And that realization, that I feel at home where I am, is arguably the most important of the weekend.