Sources of Refuge

 When have you been in a car and realized that you had no idea how you got to the point where you are in the trip?  That you have been blanked out for miles or minutes until ??? 

I had no room for absent-minded, space-cadet type behavior on this adventure. I’m not an experienced international air traveller.  I’ve been to India once,  and Mexico once by air as a teen.  I don’t fly often.  I’m a formerly nervous flyer. I used to take Xanax to keep calm when I had to fly regularly for work. Sometimes I’d top that off with a whisky-rocks. Even for an early morning flight. Things are better now, yet I don’t seem to be able to float along with ease like many of the travellers in a Facebook group to which I belong.  Air travel seems second nature to these folks.

I left the United States for Australia with some security blankets.  Like the Peanuts character Linus with his blue blanket,  I carried a slip of paper on my person for refuge – though I no longer sucked my thumb.  Phone numbers of friends and family, my lodging at my first stop in Australia, the travel insurance company and flight information were put there.  Key passwords transformed into a secret code only I would understand. All this crammed onto one small sheet of paper and placed into a zipper pocket on the leg of my pants.  Should my phone be lost, stolen or confiscated, I had backup. Symbolic thumb sucking, eh?

I had no companions travelling with me.  Travelling solo doesn’t necessarily mean you don’t want company.  Sometimes it just isn’t possible for someone to join in. Work schedules, family obligations and finances get in the way.  If I’d waited for someone to travel (or hike, ski, camp) with, I would be sitting many things out. Life would pass me by.  I’d rather deal with the issues that might come up being on my own instead of waiting around for circumstances to be just right so someone could join me. That happened even when I was partnered. Being married or in a relationship doesn’t mean you’re joined at the hip. 

Someday I hope to treat my son Grant to an overseas trip.  We did many road trips and car camps in the Western United States when he was growing up.  I wanted some part of him with me on my trip to Australia.  When Grant was an infant, going to McDonald’s was all I could afford for a meal out.  When his Happy Meal came with a small Piglet toy, he wasn’t interested.  That’s understandable. Piglet may be cute, but a one year old wants a toy that does something. A toy that makes a face when you press its belly button, for example.  So I kept Piglet and secured them onto the stick shift with a rubber stretchy bracelet.  Piglet has been in every car I’ve had since then.  That was 1997.  As Grant went through later parts of his childhood, he grew fond of Piglet, our trusty companion on road trips. 

So I tucked Piglet into my purse when I left for the airport.  Piglet might bring good luck.  A little superstition never hurt.  Piglet might also help soothe my longing to have my son with me.  After I picked up the camper truck that would be my home for the next six weeks,  I put Piglet on the dashboard.  Piglet gets adventure, too !  I was now ready to hit the road.