Dozy Writes

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As I may have mentioned recently, I am now back in the workplace and it’s fair to say it’s been a bit of a shock to the system. 

The biggest challenge for me – apart from the early mornings – has been adjusting to the confinement that comes from having a regular job. 

I’m not complaining. A regular job brings regular money and financial stability, something we all need in some shape or form.

However, I must confess that I miss being able to take off whenever I feel like it.

I recently mentioned to one of my pals that I was feeling the need to go abroad somewhere for a break.

‘It isn’t that long since you were in Australia’, she commented, somewhat surprised at my insistence about getting away.

I knew what she meant. It had only been a handful of months since my return from overseas. 

However, like me, she’s a fellow traveller and it’s easy to forget the importance of holidays when you live the life of a wanderer.

Isn’t it idyllic?

Don’t get me wrong, the life of a wanderer isn’t as easy or idyllic as it might seem. It comes with its own stresses.

I’ve had times over the last three years where I didn’t know where I was going to stay the next day, and where, for one reason or another, the choices available were extremely limited. 

Two years ago, I changed beds 62 times in less than five months. I don’t think I realised just how important it was to have a familiar bed in a familiar environment until I moved around that much.

It was exhausting.

I guess it depends on how you do your wandering.

If you travel on a boat or in a campervan, your home moves with you so you still have some familiarity around you making it a slightly easier endeavour. There can be other complications instead but at least your bed is the same every night.

I, of course, chose the more challenging option which involved me lugging a suitcase containing all my belongings across various countries. 

I walked hundreds of miles with that suitcase, and as a result, I can tell you all about the best pavements all over France and Spain – fancy cobbled pavements might look nice but they’re a nightmare to drag a case over.

I’m not telling you all of this to make you feel sorry for me. I had an amazing time.

However, the way in which I travelled often came with complications so it wasn’t the simplest way to live.

My favourite times were when I could stay in one place for a few weeks which allowed me to settle into a simpler life.

Whether that was renting an apartment in various parts of England, visiting my family in Australia, or staying in the mountains in Spain, I could feel myself relax in the knowledge that I could put my suitcase away for a while and unpack some of my belongings.

Those times were filled with daily rituals where I would go for a swim, do some research, write and then read before doing it all over again.

Those were times where my creativity had free reign because it wasn’t being blocked by the stresses of a busy life.

The wanderer returns

As the old adage goes, ‘Money makes the world go around’ and it was difficult for me to make a living whilst being on the move all the time. 

Travelling in the way that I did was practically a full time job in itself and not something that I could have continued for much longer. 

The need for stability became an overwhelming desire. But what does stability look like? 

I guess stability means different things for different people.

For me, sleeping in my own bed is a constant joy. Every night, I get into bed and I smile to myself, appreciating the simple pleasure of the same mattress, the same pillows and my own duvet

I have bought a few items since moving into my flat but I still don’t care about having lots of things. I have cupboards and drawers that are half empty because I don’t want to fill them with things that I don’t need.

A couple of small decorations are nice but I don’t need to have lots of gadgets or lots of bling.

Rest assured, I still have lots of fairy lights. There will always be fairy lights wherever I go.

Lessons from a campsite

Last year, I spent some time at my friend’s holiday park and it was fascinating to watch the comings and goings.

People turned up with fancy tents and expensive campervans. There were big jeeps and vans with tents pitched on their roofs – how they managed when they needed to go for a pee in the middle of the night was beyond me.

Big motorhomes with all the mod cons lined up next to each other and despite the fact that they all have their own stylish washing facilities, I watched with interest as everyone trooped to the shared shower block every morning and every evening.

People who had spent tens of thousands of pounds on expensive motorhomes and caravans spent the majority of their time sitting outside chatting to their neighbours who were parked up just a few metres away.

People cooked outside and shared meals with each other. Everyone was living in close confines to each other, so close that you could hear your neighbours snore and fart in their sleep.

Folk chatted to each other excitedly as they put their tents up and when it was time to leave, there was an air of sadness as they packed everything away again.

It was a community and every person was lit up with the feeling of belonging.

Seeing everyone so relaxed and happy made me wonder about the way in which we choose to live our lives.

As I pondered this, a story by Heinrich Böll came to mind.

The fisherman and the tourist

If you don’t know the story, it tells a tale of a tourist who visits a small fishing village and comes across a scruffy looking fisherman who is dozing in his fishing boat, having been out to catch some fish earlier in the day.

The tourist wonders why the fisherman is dozing in his boat in the sunshine when he could be out catching more fish.

The fisherman replies that he has enough to feed his family for the next couple of days.

The tourist explains that if the fisherman went out for longer he would get a bigger catch which would allow him to buy a motorboat which would let him get an even bigger catch.

The fisherman looks on with interest as the tourist then explains that with the profits he could soon own a fleet of fishing boats which would then allow him to build a factory, open a restaurant and export to the city without a middleman.

‘And then what?’ the fisherman asks curiously.

‘Well then you could retire and spend your days dozing in your fishing boat in the sunshine.’

The tourist smiles smugly, satisfied at having given such thoroughly good business advice.

The fisherman looks puzzled. ‘But isn’t that what I’m doing now?’

Return to the simple life

Remembering this story as I watched the campers take a break from their stressful lives made me wonder why they didn’t just cut out the stressful part.

Why do we work in stressful jobs in order to afford expensive houses that we often feel so imprisoned by that we can’t wait to escape them the minute we’re on holiday?

It feels like we have everything back to front.

Maybe having everything doesn’t actually make us happier. Perhaps living our lives more simply, with less possessions is a possible way to bring more joy to our lives.

I’m not always sure how easy that is given the dominance of consumerism in Western culture but there are always small changes that can make a big difference.

A few years ago I had a routine with my partner at the time where we had a little micro holiday every Thursday night. I would meet him from work and we would go for a swim then have a picnic in my van afterwards.

We would watch the sunset from whatever parking spot we chose and then return home, tired but happy.

It never got old or boring because we treated it with the excitement of a holiday every single week.

So maybe it’s not about making vast changes to our lives at all.

Maybe we just need to appreciate the luxuries we have and treat these little moments like they’re something special rather than taking them for granted.