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gerbie ([personal profile] gerbie) wrote2005-04-14 05:40 pm
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You asked for it (11)

Tell me about some of the travels of your adulthood, specifically the first one you can recall, and your most memorable one (requested by [livejournal.com profile] tbone)

I grew up in a small town. Big compared to all surrounding villages, yet small enough not to be considered a city. My parents took us (I’ve got a little sister) on a holiday every year, sometimes even twice, when they could afford a skiing holiday as well. By the time I was 12 I had seen the UK, Belgium, Germany, Austria, France, Switzerland and a tiny bit of Italy.

Yet considering the protected environment of my hometown, it was not very likely that I would turn out the traveller I am since the last decade. I guess the process started in 1991.


I had been away with school at 16, my first travel without my parents. Again at 18. A holiday with friends at 19. But it was always a holiday. A week away, coming back to where you are from. To be honest, at 21 I couldn’t imagine how big the world was. I had seen things, but never actually FELT what travelling was about. I had been living on my own for 3 years already, but went home (note the difference) every weekend. Mom did the laundry; I played football and saw my friends and family.

In 1991, age 21, I went to France to work the summer for Eurocamp. After a five days training in Calais (I always remember the war breaking out in Yugoslavia, heard on my world receiver then) I was brought to the Vosges, to be the Children’s courier in Corcieux on a campsite with a lake and a tiny rural village next to it. Up until then a fortnight had been the maximum stay away from home, now I went away for 9 weeks.

I had to survive in France in an English speaking group. Good for my languages obviously. But I learned much more from the evenings together. English, Dutch, French and German at one table, discussing the meaning of life or whatever subject came up. Drinking wine (not me), comparing the countries, whining about horrible tourists. It was an eye opener. I saw someone with a book “Travel your way around the world” and laughed at the idea, not realising that indirectly, that would be my destiny for the next decade. I tasted croissants, fresh from the bakery, at 2.30 am, after the last bar decided to throw us out. I hitchhiked to Colmar with one colleague, took the train to Nancy with another. I enjoyed my work, entertaining the children, I enjoyed the team I worked with, enjoyed the life away from home.

I grew up that summer. For the first time I noticed that the world was more than just a place to go on holiday. I found out that cultural differences make ones life richer, instead of being a thread. I learned that being Dutch has the advantage that you have to learn languages, which means you are able to communicate with many people in their own native tongue. The seed of travelling was planted inside me that summer and I never regretted it.



(You asked for it, a series I started to give anyone the opportunity to tell me what to write. You want to tell me as well: leave a comment or mail me (E-mail in user info). This was part 11, no request waiting at the moment. Looking forward to the next request.)