The life of an overlander want-a-be can be complicated. Complicated by the fears of how to make life on the road happen. Fear of the unknown. Fear of leaving behind all that is familiar. Fear of running out of money. Although I strive to keep this site about our travels and dream life, our current life here at home is currently threatening said dream life.
With another year upon us, many people turn to New Years resolutions. Never one to head down that path, I am instead inspired by our friend, Sarah’s decision to assign 2015 an adjective that describes how she is currently seeing her place in the world. While her word was expansion, I find myself most closely connecting to Transformation.
“There are years that ask questions, and those that answer.”~
Rather than write a long narrative on the year that was, I wanted to simply look back on the photos. Reminisce on the thousands of memories, and countless adventures that emerged on this past trip around the sun.
In no particular order, here are some of my favorite moments of 2014.
As another year draws to a close, it’s readily apparent that our highlight of the year was the time spent with friends, both old and new.
Christmas is next week. It snuck up on me this year, and I was a bit startled to realize it is already upon us. Mentally, we are so removed from the idea of acquiring things, seemingly the sole purpose for the holiday these days, that my focus has been far, far away from shopping malls and Christmas shopping. Oh, I still love the holiday for the festivity of it all, and spent much of the last weekend simply sitting and admiring our lovely tree, adorned in dozens of ornaments, all with a story. Every single ornament on that tree was picked up by us at some random point around the world, or given to us at our annual Christmas parties by dear friends.
“Oh crap, she did it again!” Jim hastily rolled down the windows for a refreshing breath of fresh air, intent on dissipating the overwhelming scent of Aspens seemingly never ending gaseous emissions from the back seat. Our little family was heading to the beach for a fantastic three night getaway, taking advantage of a long Thanksgiving weekend. We’d started the day by enjoying a festive family dinner, leaving Aspen and Porter at his parents during dinner. We returned for them only to discover several pieces of drooled upon bits of something. Opps.
I have got to admit it, I am not in a good place this week. Tired, in a funk, dreading the daily trek to the cubicle, my mind is churning with possibilities, but my body and soul are exhausted. I wan to be gone~ floating down the Nile, drinking an ice cold Corona on the beaches of Mexico, slurping street noodles in Asia. I want to be anywhere else.
Our Indian influence
The rain pounded on the roof, wind gusts of over 60mph causing the camper to sway. A slight whistle sounded through the vent, even as our collective breathing fogged the windows. Pacific NW camping during a storm. An excellent idea!
We are stuck. We spend our free time reading other travelers blogs, sucking up the nervous energy of those just preparing to embark, the excitement and joy of those on the road, and the reflection of those at the end. We exist in a rather odd place in the middle. We have, in a sense, already “been there, done that”. We’ve previously taken off on our own long-term journey when we backpacked around the world in 2007-2008. We were scared and more excited than we had dreamed possible. I remember, like it was yesterday, the overwhelming sense of adventure, as we prepared to head out into the world for a longer than the typical American holiday.
I tried to slip deeper into the corner as the six or seven men crowding the room chopped and stirred with deliberate haste. The youngest of them crouched on their haunches, low to the floor, in that way some cultures seem born to do and I have yet to master. Chopping boards rested directly on the not so clean floor as they chopped and sliced fragrant garlic, onions and tomatoes. Upon seeing the amount of chilies being added to the mix, I knew we were ensured a fiery curry tonight! Two men worked feverishly over large, dented metal pots, cooking down the mutton and vegetables, as the fragrant smell of spices circled above them. In spite of the cool desert air, perspiration glazed their skin.
I stood in awe, incredibly honored to have been asked to watch the dinner preparation, for in India, women did NOT cook outside the home. Intimidated by being jammed into a 10X10 room with these hardworking cooks, I reflected on the miracles of time and place that had brought me here.
Three knives, two cutting boards, and a two-burner hot plate. That was all required to serve up a fantastic dinner that fed the entire camp of over twenty. It forever changed my view of the “necessary”.
