Have Love, Will Travel

Mood: Exhausted
Listening to: Lighthouse-The Hush Sound

I fail at connecting words to experiences as of lately. Traveling so quickly with very little time in between doesn't allow for your soul to catch up with your body. I feel like my mind is scattered among many places, still digesting and reveling in the atmosphere and experience of each city it has passed through. My soul is hazily drifting back to my body. Unsure of where it is, and at a loss for where it wants to be. My heart is like an angst teenager, along for the ride, like an anchor ready to drag along the road. My body although, is back in Dublin.

Spain as a country is both magnificent and subtle. The people embody the pace of a leisurely stroll in the afternoon sun. The haze of the heat wrapped around you. Not harsh an uncomfortable, but like a layer of reassurance around you that its okay, you can walk a little bit slower.

 Malaga is like a movie of paradise. The ocean is like glass. The waves move at the same pace that the people do. Slowly rolling into shore, and gently receding. You can feel the temporary nature of the tourists in a beach town. Simply there to escape whatever reality they are from. There was a sense of self and confidence in Spain that I have never observed before. No one was concerned with you in a negative manner, just as long as you weren't harming anyone. Women and men of all sizes walked around in whatever they liked to wear, no one affording them a second glance. The scenery and people felt like painted characters or actors in a movie. Each appear to cease to exist after you moved on.

Madrid was a hybrid of sensations. A more establish sense of purpose appeared all around. The strange mix of modern and old architecture diluted my sense of reality even more. At night the city appears as a playground for the young. Hoards of which fill ever alcove and ground space. The locals appear as if they know a secret. A secret of a city that you could only know by living there for years.

Fact: 48 hours is too short of a time to even scratch the surface of the experience of a city. My short time in the lovely capital of Scotland can only be titled by something around the lines of the Edinburgh marathon.

My experiences in Scotland and Spain are like day and night. Where Spain was warm, relaxed, slow paced, Scotland was like a flash of images across the screen a dead sprint to the finish line. The city of Edinburgh has an ancient sense about it that tends to overwhelm you. Imagining the history and age of a city that survived the plague is intense. While the streets seem to scream at the people with ghosts and ancient stories, the people seem to be oblivious to this nature and slosh about selfishly. Almost as if the stories of those who have walked before them, the age of every brick in an ancient castle, is just too much for their minds to process. The age of our understanding almost not built to process that kind of history or scenery. I have promised myself to go back for a longer time, and hopefully be able to better experience the wonder that is Edinburgh.

For now I am safe and sound back in Dublin town. Waiting for my existence to recollect itself. With a deep appreciation for the people that have made my travels so profound. Each new person I connect with in a new city is nothing but wonderful and part of the greatest sense of fulfillment I could ever ask for. 

Hopefully I can rest and regain myself before I am off to Turkey next month. Another adventure, more ancient grounds, monuments of cities, more people to meet, and air to breathe in. 

Deeply, sincerely, and as always

From Dublin, With Love 

Olivia