Day 170
We were driving up the motorway today, as I'm off to visit and do some work for my lovely sister in law, and we kept passing signs which said "think bike" in big, angry, authoritative, red letters. Think bike - on a motorway? Isn't that against the law? And what special kind of idiot would you have to be to decide that next time you travel along here the best form of transport would be one that doubles as a suicide mission?
Perhaps I'm just behind the times, because I was passing by one of the local theatres yesterday and my eye was caught by a poster advertising 'How to survive a Zombie Apocalypse', (which has now become one of my favourite play titles ever). However, what really got me was the critics quote at the top - "zombie improv at it's very best" it declared. Now I know I'm only a small town girl, but when did 'zombie improv' become a recognised genre? Does that preclude 'Shaun of the dead' because it was scripted? Apart from the hands outstretched shambling walk thing, what else is there to improvise about zombies with? If anyone knows, please tell me, I can't sleep for worrying.
I'm at my brother's house, as I said, to re-cover a chair for my niece Robyn, (the pink one), so have arrived with a sewing machine, an overlocker, a vast tool kit of cotton and bobbins and scissors etc., and enough clothes to cover me for the wedding we're going to on Saturday. In the past I have moved house with less equipment. I could invade a small country with all the hardware. I could survive a shipwreck with all the clothes and on-my-diet foods.
When did I stop travelling light? Was it when I had children and suddenly truck loads of buggies and blankets, rockers, slings, bottles and ten changes of clothing were required to get you through the afternoon? Now they are grown, sadly, I still find I pack lots of don't-turn-into-a-prune shit for my face, all my pairs of glasses, a chemists worth of vitamin supplements, and my pillows.
Looking back to when I was 13, I remember my cousin Sue coming to visit us. She was 17 and unspeakably cool. She carried all her belongings in one tiny purple string bag. You could see everything and I was fascinated to note that her underwear matched both her clothes and the bag. She may even have hitch-hiked!!!!! I never knew anyone I wanted to be more than her that day.
Roll forward a few years and Madonna has just made her first film - 'Desperately seeking Susan', (there's a theme here, can you tell?). In it she carries around a hat box containing all her worldly goods, which being Madonna include a tutu, lace gloves, and lots of bling. This was the lifestyle I aspired to - a capsule wardrobe of utterly edgy and chic proportions, a motorbike to speed off into the unknown with, a packing system that took all of two minutes and then you're gone.
When did I become so high maintenance? Is this just an age thing? Do sore backs and feet make weary travellers? Does vanity hold too much sway? I could wear the same pair of jeans and take only three funky t-shirts and a hairbrush, and still look fab when I was 22. At fifty it would take the creative might of Gok Wan and a lot of airbrushing to achieve the same carefree, casual glamour, (and a very dark night).
Ah well, so be it. I console myself with the fact that I travel light in my heart. An unknown road is always an adventure waiting to happen. All new places offer new people, new sights, and new opportunities for living out to my edges. Treading lightly, with excitement and interest, is perhaps the only way to travel after all. Poop poop, as Toad would say.
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