I enjoy train rides, and I really enjoy long train rides. Train rides provide a unique opportunity to reflect. Train excursions, especially for solo travelers, provide a rare opportunity to be alone with yourself and your thoughts.
If there is no black image from the window to occupy your eyes and mind, especially when the sun sets and darkness falls, you are left alone with yourself.
We often overlook the importance of thinking. To consider, to consider ourselves, to consider what we are doing; to consider our past, our moments, where we are in our dream life, where we are heading, the muck in our way, the roses... To think honestly by delving further and deeper into ourselves without retreating. We've been thinking about our flow and how we live.
My two-year trips through Oceania and South Asia took place in a ritualistic setting. During these long journeys, I learned that one of my favorite parts was having the opportunity to think for a long period.
These encounters were a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity for me to explore and learn about myself. However, I've seen that I've drifted away from this environment. I don't recall ever being in that mood again, but it was only possible because of the long train ride.
While on this train voyage, on the train tracks that connect Leipzig and Budapest, I was pondering for a long period. I was wondering if I'd fallen back into a habit.
Budapest
I left my home on July 19th for a trip to Batumi. Following my trip to Batumi, I spent a week in Hurghada, Egypt, on a Red Sea diving program. I intended to return home after Hurghada, at least that's what I planned, but I had to stay in Istanbul for a while, and before I could return home, I went to Budapest.
At the famous Sziget Festival, I was among the rowdy adolescents. I arrived in Bratislava after spending more than ten days roaming the streets of Budapest. In August, I was sitting in an armchair on the street next to a library that had been set up on the street.
I was traversing the murky and misty, rainy streets of Vienna a little while afterwards. With a train journey, I was back in Cesky Krumlov. I was roaming through the winding lanes of this quaint village, which had a medieval feel about it.
After that, I went to Prague. Then I took another train travel to Dresden, Germany, and then another train ride to Leipzig, Germany. Now, after a 13-hour train ride, I'm returning to Budapest, leaving all the cities I've walked behind and giving me time to contemplate.
I went over two months without stopping on the trip away from home. I never planned things that way, but it's always lovely when my plans come to fruition!
Cesky Krumlow Czech Republic
Right now, you're probably wondering where the routine of such a life is. Even the lives of those who are adored from the outside have a pattern of their own. A life, events, and flow that are repeated and repetitive.
During this voyage, I discovered that I had become disassociated from the flow of being on the road, something I had formerly loved. If there was a philosophy of being on the road for me, it was the road itself, or, to put it another way, just being on the road. I prefer the beginning, the end, and the winding roads.
I loved being on the road, not knowing where I would sleep that night or even whether I would have a pillow. Due to my pre-planned vacations, I felt a little out of touch with this feeling. I'm fatigued since I'm tossed between my planned, sequential travels, returning to Istanbul each time.
The stress of not being able to write down the mountains of material I've accumulated in my thoughts about the places I've traveled, seen, and experienced makes me exhausted, not being on the road.
Despite the fact that my brain is full of fresh information and experiences, I am exhausted from carrying everything. I used to sit and write at the end of each trip. Writing, writing, writing... putting my thoughts, experiences, and emotions into words helped me feel at ease.
I would locate a table in the hostel and write for hours while everyone else was having fun, chatting, or flowing into nightlife in the common area. Those were the times when I was most content. To create, to exchange information, to write what I want to write, even if no one will read it...
In reality, this was merely an attempt to encapsulate knowledge that should not be retained in this brain. One thing was certain: I had to write. My major purpose was not to pave the path for others or to make an indelible impact on the world. I just wanted to express myself.
Czech Republic, Prague
So, on this train voyage, the boredom of the mood, which travels frequently but generates less than previously, reached me. I'm quite aware that writing and producing is more important to me than traveling and seeing new locations.
By devoting less time to myself and my loved ones, as well as, if necessary, the highways. Writing is the only way for me to break the monotony of perpetual travel. I'm not sure why I wrote these. I'm not sure.
These are the ones that came to mind when I was thinking about them. Maybe on this train ride, I'm just thinking out loud. Perhaps to jog my memory of something. I've been gone since July 19th, and I'm not sure when I'll be back. But now that I'm aware of this, I'll produce more frequently than before.
(All photos by me)
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