The Nature of Travel and Homesickness

Yeah, yeah, all right, so I’ve officially hit summer mode. I’ll admit this blog entry has been difficult, if not painful, to write. I was inconsolably sad to leave Bath, the most idyllic city in England, but once I got back to the States I was struck by how unexpectedly normal it felt to be back. Surprisingly, I’ve quickly fallen back into my regular (procrastinating) habits. After a semester abroad, I thought that returning to Virginia would feel markedly different and peculiar. Yet it didn’t. As I walked through Norfolk Airport, it oddly felt as if no time had passed at all and my memory of leaving four months prior seemed shockingly clear in my mind as if it had occurred only days earlier. But instead, Bath has switched places, now it’s become the distant memory. The whole semester feels like a fabulous hallucination and occasionally I browse through my pictures to remind myself that it actually did happen. Returning home felt weird and wonderful all at once. The second I saw my parents, and later some of my friends, I realized how much I had really missed them. And during the final week in Bath I did mentally prepare myself for going home, so if that Icelandic ash cloud had fired up I would have gotten pretty angry. Inevitably linked, travel and homesickness stretch emotions ceaselessly back and forth. Part of me wanted to go home and part of me never wanted to leave.


Over the course of the semester though homesickness thankfully never hit me too hard. Some people missed their homes dreadfully, others snapped in and out of crying spells while other students coldheartedly showed no emotion. One girl pined for her home so badly that she returned there for Spring Break. I, however, fell into the third category. Alarmingly so. But it’s not that I don’t have any feeling at all- I’m not sociopathic or anything- it’s more that I thought frequently and fondly of the people I care for back home rather than outwardly missing them. Sure, I’d have my weaker moments, like after a bad day or an altercation with my roommate, but I guess maybe I’m just not one for gooey emotional messes. And, as beautiful as I think Virginia is, I never, not once, found myself longing for geographical place. In fact, if everybody I loved suddenly moved to Bath, I think I could stay there forever. I really miss little details like the refreshing absence of humidity and the posh accents. I resolutely maintain that anything sounds better spoken with a British accent. And a nice cup of tea. This sounds a bit confusing, even in my head, but even though Richmond’s my home I don’t mind abandoning it. Perhaps it’s just a symptom of my age and my trip to Bath fulfilled the fun, fantasy version of independence (basically college autonomy on steroids). By this time next year I’ll graduate and fly the metaphorical coop and then pretty soon I suppose I will dissolve into a gooey emotional mess over staggering rent payments and crummy entry-level jobs.


Study abroad has presented me with probably my only opportunity to live in a foreign country completely unfettered from financial restraints. With my housing taken care of and no immediate need to work, I got to live like I’ll never get to live again. Freely. Thanks to my semester abroad, wanderlust has me in its idealistic vice grips. There are SOOOOOOOOOOOOO many places I want to see, and I hope I can manage to get to even just a third of them before I’m old and crotchety. Although, since returning home, I do have to confess the prospect of not living out of a suitcase for a little while feels kind of relaxing. Travel is amazing because it presents you with culture shock lite since trips are often abbreviated- a few days or a few weeks at the most- and full of novelty. You see the strange, the bizarre and the unusual, or at least what you consider the strange, the bizarre and the unusual in a condensed time span. Travel gives you sparkle and frills of culture. It’s exciting. The beauty of study abroad is that it affords plenty of opportunity for frequent travel but tempers its more superficial aspects, by providing an extended living space. Study abroad teaches you that staying put in one foreign locale has an equal, if not exceeding, importance. While travel provides flashy and fun exposure, staying put is the valuable lesson overall. So it makes sense now why the ASE staff warned us during orientation week to travel, but not too often. Time spent in Bath offered us irreplaceable insight into British culture beyond that of a transient tourist.



Travel suggests wonderful meals, hours of shopping, plenty of sightseeing and other leisurely pursuits. But I learned more on the weekends in Bath running errands and finishing chores. Sure, figuring out how to operate a European washing machine and scouring the city for the nearest grocery store seems comparatively less glamorous than watching the Eiffel Tower sparkle at night- but the little things- even just an afternoon walk through my neighborhood imparts a more significant lesson. The monotony of life is how you learn a culture, and those chores and errands are more illuminating than three blissful days of sightseeing on a long weekend. You fall into the rhythm of life there instead of jutting out like a sore thumb. Making yourself at home somewhere teaches you about the place you call ‘home’, whether permanently or temporarily. I remember the first time I recognized someone on the street, and over the course of the semester it happened several times- sometimes with people that only I recognized from the pub or the grocery store and sometimes with people who recognized me back. Although the latter is more gratifying, nothing makes you feel more at home than running into a familiar face. All in all, this semester has been a long one and this semester has been a short one. There are things I’m glad I did, things I wish I did, things I like about England, things I dislike about England, but after this semester abroad I truly feel that I can call Bath ‘home’.