I’m writing because I can’t talk. It’s totally against my will!
And just to be clear, there’s nothing wrong with my vocal cords. I mean I can’t currently talk because my throat is as dry as the desert I’m seeing from above.
This is the result of skipping cardio day way too often AND sprinting through Abu Dhabi’s airport while screaming EXCUSE ME, SORRY, COMING THRU, in hopes I wouldn’t miss my connection flight. While slightly traumatizing, this was probably the peak of my delusional main character syndrome.
I’m typing this – because… you already know – on my way to Kuala Lumpur. If you’re fairly close to me, you know I looove to tell my travel stories. They’re like regular stories, but have happened while I was traveling, which adds a je ne sais quoi to the plot.
Usually they work well for the entertainment of my very small and loyal audiences like my parents, who I believe are genuinely interested in why I often exchange the comfort of my bed, my pillow and my blanket for random beds with strange pillows and foreign blankets.
I always tell them that great stories don’t flourish from the comfort zone, neither does growth. Like a lot of the things I stand for, this is highly debatable and needs some proper discussion, which I will get to at some point.
For some years now I have wondered whether I could (or should) share my stories, how and with whom. The answer to those question is still foggy but just like traveling, I feel like I often need to navigate through the fog and hope for a good view.
If this is getting too philosophical too quickly,
let me disclaim two things:
- That’s kinda the point
- I’m not the (only) brain behind this
Caspar David Friedrich was 200 years ahead of me when he painted the Wanderer above the Sea of Fog. I would have probably painted it a bit different, but I was still impressed to contemplate this masterpiece at the Hamburger Kunsthalle, back in 2022.
I was amazed with the landscape that we can barely see, but particularly to realize that I wasn’t anymore the wanderer standing awkwardly in the museum room, but the one wearing the fierce coat who can’t exactly see his destination and still is determined to go.
At full speed, I’m now quicky approaching Malaysia. I don’t know what’s about Asia and people making big life decisions, but here I am 35000 feet up in the air making a bold promise (mainly to myself) to turn my-story into his-tory.
Welcome to the inner journey of traveling the world! Fasten your seatbelt, turbulence is guaranteed.
Ready for take-off?
_
Still lost? Me too. Might as well get lost together.
- Follow the blog, The Art of Getting Lost, for more questionable travel decisions and deep existential thoughts disguised as funny stories.
- Come say hi (or invite me for food) on Instagram: @hugofreitas_10
Warning: Following may result in spontaneous one-way ticket purchases and an irrational fear of itineraries.
