All of the other posts have been about places overseas, but this odyssey began with my first step out the door.
I love this picture. I’m nervous and scared and excited. The whole trip is still in front of me. What lies ahead, other than the first two days in Croatia, is completely unknown. Nobody was around to drive me to the airport, so I began the journey by walking half an hour to the bus stop. Just me and my backpack. Not my first choice, but looking back, it seems like the most poignant way to begin a solo trip around the World.
I walked from the house where I grew up, through my old neighborhood, and past my elementary school. The bus was a local, and the circuitous route took me all around my home town, and then wound through a lot of other towns on its way to NYC, stirring up memories all along the way. I passed places I had thought a lot about over the years, and others that I had completely forgotten until I saw them that day. The bank where I worked one summer, a town in New Jersey where my high school friends and I wound up after taking the wrong bus (not that we cared), a diner that I would go to with my grandparents when I was little. My life was passing before my eyes, not in a death-moment flash, but at about 25 MPH (with lots of stops). Even though I did not see anything that would appear in a National Geographic special, that bus ride would become one of the highlights of the trip.
Over the next few months, I felt not only the desire, but the need to end the trip the way it started. Getting picked up at the airport would have been cheating, as if I would have come up short of making it all the way around unless I walked that last leg. Whenever I felt run down and homesick, I would think about taking that bus again, but in the opposite direction.
My reaction to finally being back in the U.S. was to rapidly look around at everything in the terminal, like some kid at his first carnival. If anyone happened to be watching me, they surely would have thought I was a foreigner.
From LAG, I took the shuttle bus to Manhattan, where I would visit briefly with prolific travelogue commenter Tatiana, just as I had done before my outbound flight. I was very worried about missing the oft-thought-about bus ride, so after only a few minutes I was on the subway towards the Port Authority bus terminal, courtesy of Tats’ metro card.
I got my bus right on time.
While that first bus ride had a nervous excitement of endless possibilities, the ride home had a sense of triumph and relief. Both rides were equally memorable. In scientific terms, one was pure potential energy, the other pure kinetic. The song of choice on my iPod was by Frank Sinatra, who crooned “It’s very nice to go travelin’, but it so much nicer to come home”. I heard that one for the first time in Cambodia back in November. Ever since, I wanted to give it another listen, but I saved it for the bus ride.
With the last of many, many plane, train and bus rides behind me, I began the last of many, many miles on foot. I’m surprised that my sneakers made it, especially since they were already beginning to fall apart when I started. Thanks to the New York winter weather, I was wearing most of my clothing, so my backpack was much lighter than usual. Even so, that walk seemed extra long. It was cold, it was windy, it was uphill all the way. But mostly, just as I had many times along the way, I wanted to finally be home. And eventually, I was there.
So that’s my story, thanks for listening. I appreciate all of the comments, compliments and especially the emails to me personally. Hearing from home was always a big treat. Thanks to everyone I met along the way, especially those who hosted me. Without you, this body of work would have been just a bunch of pictures and no stories. And the biggest thanks go to my parents for keeping an eye on my things, both inanimate and alive, while I was away.
“Wheresmike” going to be next? Well, I think I know, but until it is 100% certain, I won’t be saying. I will tell you that it looks like I will be in one place for a while. I’d like to think that there will be future posts, albeit on a less frequent basis, so be sure check in from time to time, or drop me a line at muldoon_13@hotmail.com.
Until then, this is your host signing off, from somewhere in The World.
wheresmike 