A year ago we had just arrived back from our tenth anniversary trip to Europe via Malaysia. Sometimes I think it can take a year or more to properly appreciate a trip, time discarding those memories of jetlag and weary feet, the race to stick a schedule and keep everyone happy and highlighting all those wonderful experiences in your mind.
Vignettes suddenly pop into your head, leaving a feeling of wistfulness for the year gone. A hotel room of toys with Alex in the centre of them, mountain scenery below, a meal in Paris, breakfast on the train.
The same thing happened in 2010, a year after my previous trip to Europe. Dreamily falling asleep to music alone in a hotel room, tinned mandarins for breakfast, a quiet walk through central London, cobblestones in Ghent.
As I said in my last post there is something special about travel to Europe and the long, long flights there. Whenever the earlybird fares are released I feel a tremendous urge to book them. I know what we want to do; just go around France, eat the foods and see the sights. But it’s also the journey there. Give it another year, or another, or another…
