I’m sitting in Heathrow, wishing, wishing, wishing. Amazing how just a few hours alone dealing with transport leaves me feeling bereft, sad, lonely. I guess it doesn’t help that I’m not feeling well either; dislocated, a bit vague, queasy and overwarm. I know when I get to Belfast I’ll be fine, but the transit is a killer.
It’s funny, but England hasn’t overly impressed me this time. I’ve enjoyed spending time with the Bs, and I’ve liked the things that I’ve seen, but I haven’t enjoyed the people here. I’m tired and sad. The adrenalin of the earlier part of the holiday has worn off, the excitement of the new and luscious is gone, replaced by a melancholy compounded by the indifferent weather and the horrible food (not the food Jen cooked, which was great, but coming from France where pretty much anything you buy is going to be yummy, there wasn’t much foodwise in England to commend it (which I know is no great surprise, but I don’t remember it being this bad)).
I guess another factor is that I’m feeling so disconnected. Leaving Jen and JD at the station was sad. And even though I’ve got my laptop and have been talking to people every day, emailing every day, there is just something about seeing friends, touching them, hearing their voices, knowing they are just around the corner, that is just irreplaceable. The distance is just so great. Even if I ran now and got another ticket, even if I jumped on the first plane home, it would still be two days before I’d arrive, before I’d see anyone. And all I need to is to be patient, to wait for this next flight, to just be calm, and I’ll be with lovely friends in Belfast and this feeling will disappear.
I don’t mean this to sound like whingeing. I have not forgotten how blessed I am with friends and the funds to come over here and visit them. I’ve been longing to do this for months, years. I guess this is just the reality of travel when you have a depressive disposition; it’s hard enough to feel content and happy when everything is level and familiar at home, and even more so when you’re being shunted from bus to train to plane and just hoping you’ll end up where you’re meant to be. So far my attitude has been pretty relaxed; if I miss connections it’s a hassle but it’s not the end of the world. I think this is a good outlook to have. But still. People who travel first class and have staff to think of all this crap for them really have no idea how lucky they are.