Wanderlust sometimes shows in less grand moments than we usually expect, yet it’s exactly there that it perhaps has that special feeling of being completely integrated into your soul. No denying it. Your eyes of wonder and zest.
A month ago, I took a train to cross my own home country and there was something extraordinary about it, because I hadn’t done it for so long, having moved out and all. My own restlessness was somehow eased and pleased. The journey had an aura, a glow, only enhanced by the observation that the train I boarded had a metal plaque hang at the beginning of the coupé ”made in 1971”. I had to smile and internally laugh, though by the looks of the train I wasn’t at all surprised by the information. Then, I found it funny how things had changed, the little warning, saying ”Don’t lean out of the window”, written in four different languages, still no English (Slovenian, German, French and Italian instead). The best of it all, of course, were the views, those views I’m sure my co-patriots ignore daily, not me though. All the green, booming into the first spring showings, and the river, fiercely cutting into the valley.
It was the simplest of journeys, and among the most memorable ones. It made me realize it is wanderlust who opens up your eyes even for the most common sceneries.