Home has always been an illusive concept. What is home? Something so fundamental shouldn’t be so hard to define, much less to find…yet it often escapes me.
After years on the road, after too many nights of fetal position and drool, I’ve finally managed the highly sought after skill of being able to feel at home anywhere. Give me 24 hrs in any city, let me figure out where to find / make coffee and a map of the public transit system and I will swim through the crowded street with the daftness of a local. A stranger in a strange land no more.
In the past week, I couch surfed (for the first time) and spend two nights each in Venice, Rome and Paris. There is a singular goal to these brief days in each city just before epic The Mongol Rally. I need to photograph the food markets of Italy and France for Wok The Dog.
After too many nights of traveling at a breakneck speed, nights spend in stranger’s guestrooms, couches and overnight trains; I arrive exhausted at our apt in Prague (provided by our generous sponsor Go with Oh).
I passed out cold, still clothed, on top of the silk beddings.
I unpack myself out of all the sub-compartments and spread out in the apt Pam and I are sharing. I manage to make coffee with just a filter and wash my travel worn clothes in the sink.
Home is a mindset. Home is a place. Home is where you can exhale for a minute, hold the pending adventure at bay and make sure you’ve got everything you need.
I might be an expert in finding home in any environment, but the exquisiteness of this apt from Go with Oh is a luxury that I will take with me for the days ahead.
Couchsurfing and hostels not your mode of travel? Rent an apt instead. Being able to make your own coffee in the morning will make you feel like a local in the speed of light.