A Peek into a Mind

Was written Yesterday on a piece of paper:

I’m in a strange mood. The air is cold but there’s plenty of light. An atmosphere of Ireland. The smell of rain that had just stopped and quiet in the air. Calm. The air is cool and different. Time pass slowly, there’s no rush. You can look and think to yourself. Ambient light.

I miss Ireland. to the cold and autumness of the street, to the warmth of the little hostels and the pubs. To the beer, which in any other case I wouldn’t enjoy it’s taste, but in irish pubs is part of the atmosphere and feeling. To the live music, that if I was lucky enough I found a pub with having it. A music with no bass, where the drums aren’t one of the leading instruments but just a fade rhythm in the background. With violin or flute played by a local amature and always sound a little too high. The music doesn’t sound dance and jumpy like all the western popular music I got used to, but even a little “off tone” a little. Or the ballads. Oh.. The ballads. Sudnnly it’s quiet, and a girl start singing in a silent, clear voice a song - a love song from a girl to her lover far away, or a love song of an irish man that says goodbye to his homeland on his way to the new world. Sad ballads. And no one plays anything, it’s just the girl’s voice and an occasional beer glass on a wood table. And nothing moves in the pub until she finish and then everybody clap and cheers and finishing the current round of beer…

And the walks. The ability to be in a certain place just for as long as you want. To travel in the little villages, that 10-15 minutes walk allows you to circle them or at least go from one side to the other. To ask and find out the only bus that stops in the village isn’t due till 2 days ahead and to know you have absolutely no reason to haste. To take your backpack and and walk out of the village, on trails that looks like you’re the third person ever walking on them even though you realize they’ve been there for years. To go back to the hostel and get friend with the only 2 other travelers that reached the village by mistake (one of them is never happy about it). To know there is time and no need to run, and that you are just one traveler the meeting new people and experiencing new places. To get bored for a while and to worry a little cause you need to buy more food and equipment, and to launder your clothes and check how much money you have left in the wallet before you’ll need to find another bankomat/teller/ATM/whatever the locals call it.

To sit in the light of a small lamp and browse the guide and the map, planning where you’re heading to next. to write in a notebook the names of the people you have met, maybe some notes - to feel again that you should write what had happen today so there will be some sort of a journal when you’ll come home, and again, not do it since you had so much things happening and feeling that you don’t know where to start and how to write it all.

To be again in a city, back in civilization. to find a beautiful postcard of the same place you just been at and to buy it, just to write a short note for someone at home. To get tiered of the city after a few days and plan again where to go next.

To go back to the wilderness, to the green, to discover (AGAIN) that the pictures of the place are really beautiful but they haven’t showed how COLD it is, damn it, and those pictures probably been corrected in a computer to have a bright sky - cause the ones here looks like it’s going to rain heavily in 2 seconds. To curse quietly when 2 seconds later it really starts raining and you’re not even close to a place of shelter (except maybe a tree or two, where the wind makes sure you’ll get from the side all the water you’re missing from above). To be socking wet when the rain stops 5 minutes later and still have 30 minutes walk until the closest bus stop.

Hmpf. I think I need to go out to travel again. Soon. (note to self: take umbrella)