Sometimes, the journey is just as enjoyable as the destination.
Sometimes not.
I think by now you've gotten used to my... usual indecision. I try to avoid definitive statements as if I had the absolute truth. That's why I also use the word sometimes, but I feel it's not enough.
Even as I was writing the first sentence I realized that there may be two more statements that are equally true. Because we humans are so different and have such different expectations of people and events.
Sometimes, the journey is more enjoyable than the destination.
Sometimes, the journey is less enjoyable than the destination.
I consider myself to be a man of moderation and a believer in relativity. I believe more in the first statement, "Sometimes, the journey is just as enjoyable as the destination", of course with slight variations on one side or the other, i.e. with minuses and pluses.
I have tried to make any trip to a desired destination as pleasant as possible.
Of these trips, those to the sea were my favorites and even if the sea is my great passion, I also found many satisfactions and beauties on the way to the sea.
Except when I had accidents or car breakdowns. Very unpleasant situations but they always ended well and did not affect the holiday.
Today is Thursday, Remembrance Day, and I'm trying to force my brain and my memorial to bring back my fondest memories. Remembering the journey to the sea always gives me pleasure.
I've recently been revisiting the oldest photos I have in my computer memory. External memory! Now I have one. If only I'd had it earlier... I'd have had even more old photos, but I didn't and I lost a lot of photos when the old computer died.
The earliest trip to the sea, documented with photos, is from June 2015. From Bucharest (Romania) to Balchik (Bulgaria).
Half of the drive is on the highway and I don't like it. The terrain and scenery are quite common and the eagerness to get to the sea as quickly as possible always pushes me to go at high speed and this takes away from my time contemplating the scenery.
The other half of the road is on lower category roads, one lane each way, through fields and villages. Here the speed is slower and the enjoyment of the scenery is greater.
Summer is the season that fascinates me. Because summer means traveling to the sea but I realize now it's not only because of this that it's my favorite season. It probably comes from my childhood spent in the country, when we were with friends in the fields, hills, and forests from morning till night. Excessive heat, hunger, thirst, and tiredness did not exist for me then, plus I could tame them then right in the field, without having to go home.
Another thing I like about these back roads, away from the highway. The lack of traffic! At least that's how it was almost ten years ago. As soon as we left the highway we would take a short break and stop to feel the warmth and smell of the countryside up close.
My little Renault Clio has taken me to the sea so many times. Who knows where it is now...
Several elements mean summer to me. The deep and true summer, the summer of my childhood that has imprinted itself in my soul and on my skin forever.
The endless clear skies, the overwhelming heat, the wheat fields with yellow spikes, and the constant ringing in the ears from the noise of the cicadas...
... and there's something else, which was added later after I started driving to the sea.
Poppy flowers.
For me, the poppy flowers are a harbinger and a signal.
After they bloom and their redness can be seen in the fields and, especially, on the roadsides, I know it's time to go to the sea!
Bulls go crazy when they see red, me too, but don't compare me to a bull.
I go crazy when I see poppy fields.
I don't drink them and I don't smoke them. I go crazy just looking at them!
Summer also means rapidly changing weather. It doesn't take long to go from scorching heat and scorching sunshine to a few powerful storms. The summer storms of my childhood have stayed with me too. I stood in the rain, danced in the rain, ran in the rain, in the unconsciousness of childhood I was not afraid of lightning and thunder. I met on my way to the sea and the beginning of a storm, and a storm.
But that is another memory that will be told on another Thursday. Since I mentioned the trip, I must also mention the destination.
At the end of the journey was Balchik, in Bulgaria, at the Black Sea.
June, 2015!
