"love"

Street art is a great love of mine. When we think of street art, we think of Melbourne, London, Valparaiso, Berlin, New York, Buenos Aires. I hadn’t given much thought to what would be on the walls of Colombia, but I was overjoyed to find an entire alley in Cartagena’s district of Getsemeni devoted to beautiful, powerful, politically-driven art. I took dozens of photos, including a couple which were signed, seemingly absent-mindedly, by one name: Guillermo.

In 2006, my hand luggage consisted of little more than the travel necessities (wallet and passport), one tiny digital camera, one book, and my journal and pens. Last year, through Central and South America, my hand luggage contained three cameras, one laptop, one hard drive, one smart phone, one Kindle, oh yeah, and my journal and pens. Guess which one got the least amount of use?

I have a confession to make: the very first meal I ate in Venice, ever, was at McDonald’s. I have another confession to make: the very last meal I ate in India was also at McDonald’s. Do I have to hand in my passport now? Will the travelling gods banish me to hell, AKA a smelly night bus in Laos with only snoring men and crying babies and ridiculously loud pop music and lawn chairs for seats (yes, I’ve been in this hell, and it is the route from Phonsavan to Vientiane)? Should we feel guilty about eating at McDonald’s when we travel?

“I don’t know,” he mused one night over Skype. “I mean, I want to travel, but I’m so comfortable here. It’s so easy. Maybe I like this routine.”

I was talking to a friend of mine who has been planning a backpacking trip to South America, apparently setting out later on this year. All of a sudden, he came up with a barrage of excuses for why he shouldn’t, couldn’t, simply can’t travel.

And you know what I said to him?

“Bullshit.”

I’ve written about how much I love Canada and about how much I miss Canada many times before – it’s my favourite country, and where I my mind wanders to whenever I think of the word “home”. Even though I’ve barely spent a collective year here in the past seven, I’m fiercely patriotic and proud to be from this beautiful and supportive nation. It’s no surprise, then, that occasionally I get homesick, either for Winnipeg or for Toronto. It’s usually on a bus, it’s usually raining, and I’m staring out the window, missing my family or reflecting on the past, present, and future. Oh, and I’m usually (more like always) listening to music.

I’ve said it many times on this blog – a huge part of why I love to travel is because I love to try new food. When it comes to seafood, I’ve eaten my fair share, especially in countries on the water (or by the world’s oldest/deepest lake). Whether it’s conch in Honduras or mussels in Malta, I always find it fun to sample the popular dishes in a country.