I have diagnosed myself.
I have jetlag.
Jetlag from vacation, having crossed only one time zone.
Stay with me for a minute because I am convinced this is a real thing…
Traveling gets my curiosity going. It gets my heart going. I get my learning on and I get my walking shoes on. I try to understand what makes another culture tick and give up my trivialities and my worries for a few days.
Travelling solo brings that out even more so. I woke up thrilled by the fact that I had no agenda everyday. I could get going whenever I wanted. Two cups of coffee while getting ready? No problem. In no rush to throw off the pajamas? Amazing.
I’d wrap my camera over my shoulder, grab my city map and
my brand new iPhone 6 (no… wait… I broke that approximately 5 seconds after arriving in Seville) … my iPAD (yes, I was THAT tourist on this trip holding up a screen the size of my face to get my Instagram pics) and run out the door. Maybe I had a plan, maybe I didn’t. Maybe I’d look at the map, maybe I wouldn’t. Maybe I’d get lost. Maybe I’d find my way again. Maybe I’d ask for help. Maybe I’d accidentally speak Italian to everyone. Maybe I’d be shy about asking for recommendations. Maybe I’d get my courage up and do it anyway. Maybe I’d embarrass myself. Did it really matter?
Maybe I’d run around town and see so many sites in one go my feet would ache at night. Maybe I’d take my time the next day and sit in a Moorish Garden with Amy Poehler’s (incredible) book for an hour, soaking up the sun. Maybe I’d discover something.
Travelling solo makes you realise and appreciate the power of choice. And the fact that you need to make choices because no one else will make them for you. Adrenaline is also a funny thing. I’m learning that travel is the one thing that can guarantee to get my heart going.
But this post is about the one thing I apparently haven’t learned and that is how to come back down from it. I landed in London on Saturday afternoon, ran errands all day Sunday and tried to fix the last phone I broke (yes, this is apparently now “a thing” and I no longer trust myself with technology).
I could not for the life of me fall asleep last night. My mind was racing. Going back to work/to the everyday/to responsibilities was hard. I’d only gone to Spain – I was still in Europe – there was a one hour time difference – why couldn’t I snap out of it and just rest?
And here we are – Monday night – I’m exhausted. I’m not exactly sure why I’d been so unsettled the night before – why I couldn’t snap out of the solo travel mode.
But I do know I’ll embrace it again at the next opportunity. Being diagnosed with holiday jetlag is 100% worth it.
Seville trip in stats:
- 1,354 miles from London to Seville
- 2.5 hours flight from Gatwick Airport via EasyJet
- 4 nights via AirBnB
- 6 historic sites visited
- 840 pictures taken
- 3 evenings of neighbors hosting opera singing lessons
- 3 meals consisting purely of gazpacho (trust me, its better in Seville)
- 2 rooftop Gin & Tonics