| to travel (verb) | /vwajaʒe/
Again, I apologize for the very long, unintentional hiatus. I’ve been traveling for the past two weeks during the Toussaint holiday.
How can I describe the things I saw? I can’t. The things–tangible and abstract–that I will carry back with me? I can’t. But perhaps this will suffice.
My brother’s flight was cancelled upon my arrival to Lyon, so I was alone and untethered in a strange, large, noisy city. I wandered timidly through the streets and spent my days reading along the quay and eating hot chèvre sandwiches.
In Paris, my girlfriends and I found joy in exploring a familiar city while testing our newfound friendship. Like woodland creatures, we hibernated in crêperies and cafés until the rain subsided. We ducked into metros and popped our heads outside to catch glimpses of the Eiffel Tour.
Blustering Belgium’s rain-slicked cobblestone streets led us into cozy, fragrant restaurants and pubs. We drank too much cherry beer and not enough fries.
We stumbled through Amsterdam’s cannabis-scented streets. We visited Anne Frank’s home and cried.
You see, no traveler remains unscathed. The weight of our experiences leaves us bruised and delirious. But, Christ, what a ride, what a ride.