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Travel Nerves
Aug. 27th, 2004 10:54 amI noticed it when I went to visit Jörg in Heilbronn, and I noticed it yesterday when I waited for the train to Cologne: Whenever one of the really fast, far-travelling trains went by, I felt something inside me rush up and follow it along for a while, like a dry leaf on the tracks torn upwards by the train's speed, fluttering in its wake. I feel the urge to get onto one of those trains to far away (not that 'far away' is really far away; you don't get that in a country where, no matter where you roam, one day's driving into any direction will get you into a different country). I suppose I've gotten so used to being away during the summer vacations that a summer in which I'm not going to any different place for a longer time feels incomplete, and my heart longs to amend it. The last summer vacation where I didn't go anyplace at all lies at least 19 years back. Now of course I'll spend the next week on the Wewelsburg with Jörg's jûdô club; but that's not at all a vacation, it's more like a field trip to Isengard. I'm going to teach kanji and kana to little Uruk-hai. Hurrah. They're going to kill me - if they're merciful. They'll probably do much more horrible things.
I can't deny it: With even the Middle-earth Festival in Switzerland not taking place this year, without at least a few days in another country (maybe another city would do, too), the summer feels empty. It's bad luck that, additionally, Jörg was away most of the time, because I'm fairly sure he could have counteracted that feeling.
And I shouldn't complain, didn't I have my wonderful Easter vacation trip? I did. Will I not go to Rome with my parents in October? I will. So it's really rather ungrateful and spoiled to complain about an empty summer because I don't get away much. But I can't help it. Whenever the trains to Paris and Verona, Rotterdam and Basel pass, my heart flies up to follow them for a while, until it returns to me, out of breath, and beats take me away take me away.
- - -
Returning from Cologne, there was a guy on the train who looked exactly like Viggo Mortensen. Of course I did nothing but stare as inconspicuously as I could. It probably wasn't him, anyway. I can think of no reason why Viggo Mortensen should take the commuter train from Cologne West to Opladen.
And finally: Now they re-built the scaffold and are at the balcony again. I'm giving up trying to understand them.
- - -
( Reisefieber )
- - -
I can't deny it: With even the Middle-earth Festival in Switzerland not taking place this year, without at least a few days in another country (maybe another city would do, too), the summer feels empty. It's bad luck that, additionally, Jörg was away most of the time, because I'm fairly sure he could have counteracted that feeling.
And I shouldn't complain, didn't I have my wonderful Easter vacation trip? I did. Will I not go to Rome with my parents in October? I will. So it's really rather ungrateful and spoiled to complain about an empty summer because I don't get away much. But I can't help it. Whenever the trains to Paris and Verona, Rotterdam and Basel pass, my heart flies up to follow them for a while, until it returns to me, out of breath, and beats take me away take me away.
- - -
Returning from Cologne, there was a guy on the train who looked exactly like Viggo Mortensen. Of course I did nothing but stare as inconspicuously as I could. It probably wasn't him, anyway. I can think of no reason why Viggo Mortensen should take the commuter train from Cologne West to Opladen.
And finally: Now they re-built the scaffold and are at the balcony again. I'm giving up trying to understand them.
- - -
( Reisefieber )
- - -
