Having not seen a Wawa in little over a month (being an eastern roadstop), I was overwhelmed with memories of camp and our miscellenous roadtrips to get slushies or hogies or just plane candy at the local Wawa. Being back on the eastern coast, so close to Philly and New Jersey and therefore camp, I realised that essentially, I was home. Back to the old stomping ground that is the eastern seaboard.
When I rattle of the list of places I've been in the last month - from New York down to Miami, New Orleans, Memphis, Nashville, St Louis, Chicago and Ohio - it sounds like I've been on the road my entire life. But when I think about it, it feels like only yesterday that I was kicking back with the musos in Nashville, only the day before that Caitlin and I were cruising down the highway between North and South Carolina. So much has happened in the last month and it has rushed by just as quickly as the road beneath my bus's tyres. I've gone swimming on Miami's South Beach, drank bourbon on Bourbon Street, stood in the studio where Elvis Presley recorded his first song, played pool with future country music sensations and wandered the streets of Chicago with my jaw dragging along the pavement.
It's easy to look back and only remember the long slogs between cities on uncomfortable bus seats or packing then re-packing my backpack for the fiftieth time that week or lying on someone's couch missing my own bed and own bathroom and Sex in the City collection like crazy.
But walking through a new place (or even an old familiar place like Philadelphia) still gets me. It still instills in me the satisfaction and excitement of being in another country and of seeing different things and being foreign unto myself. Even when travelling gets fatiguing and the thought of climbing on another bus is enough to make me want to cash in my passport, just being here puts me back where I belong.
Ciao for now. xo
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