"...expectations are like the wrapping that prevents us from seeing the gift. Once we've freed ourselves from them, the present offers itself to us in all its splendor."
-Quote borrowed from The Book of Ichigo Ichie
When I planned my honeymoon (using Fodor's Travel guide book) in 1994, I jotted down every detail in my diary. I was 23, he was 25 and we'd saved up for six months to afford our honeymoon in Cyprus.
Our ideas of what a honeymoon should look like matched perfectly, too.
He was thrilled to drive a 'foreign' car in a 'foreign land' on smooth, smooth roads which were free of traffic for the first time in his life. I was ecstatic to visit all the places I had underlined in pencil in my well thumbed Fodor's copy.
He drove. I enjoyed the sights.
However, after visiting monastery number 2 on the 2nd day, he stood by the parked car, under an olive tree and told me clearly: "If there's anything unusual in there, describe it to me when you come out. I'll wait for you here."
The sky was cerulean blue and I didn't mind leaving him with his Subaru.
As a 23 year old, I couldn't bear to miss out on any 'sights'. Planning was crucial and following the planned itinerary was imperative for a successful holiday, honeymoon included. The holding of hands on beaches, stealing kisses at sunsets and the lazy mornings could be achieved at home, when we could do it all for free. We'd paid for this holiday and I was going to get the most out of it. Plus, his love for his rental Subaru helped a lot.
There are more photos of the car than of us in our honeymoon photo album.
"The car isn't coming back with us." was his valid and logical justification when I asked him why.
I didn't know it then and I've only recently started realising that any kind of planning always comes with its insidious side-effect: expectation. And as soon as expectation appears on the horizon, joy tends to leave the party. Frustration and anger are never far behind when expectation is around.
Of course, a lot of life's stuff needs to be planned but should our leisure time be bound to a time-table too? Can we give chance a chance when we're on holiday and let go of control?
Fast forward to 2019.
Apart from picking the destination and a place to stay (sometimes that has been left to chance, too) I avoid planning my days when we are on holiday.
The internet helps with this laissez-faire attitude. We can be free because we are connected. Ironical, but true.
And, surprisingly, the experiences we've enjoyed in open expanses of unplanned days have been beautiful and sometimes even surreal.
Early June, 2019: Day 1 of our much awaited trip to Cape Town dawned cloudy. Rain was predicted for the rest of the day.
We decided to drive up to the coast anyway. We couldn't walk in the downpour, but we could certainly drive. (Note: His love for driving on holiday continues to flourish. Yay!)
And keep our senses open to the magic that was unfolding all along the way. All we had to do was pay attention to the unplanned, un-orchestrated moments. Instead of disappointment (nothing was planned so nothing got disrupted) caging us indoors, our day (despite being wet, windy and cold) offered us many treasures I cherish even now as I look back at the photos and videos we took whenever the rain stopped or we did to breathe in the fresh coastal air.
Have you ever let the day unfold its mysterious magic onto you when you've travelled a long distance to see a new place? And has such an un-planned adventure made you smile? Leaving you with some remembrances of just such a day in June 2019.
The moody seascape was achingly romantic.
Clouds create fantasy:
shrouds and half-hidden doubts
add intrigue to any landscape.
South Africa in June 2019
 |
  Thank you for being here. Tomorrow is Sunday, rest day. See you with delightful 'D' on Monday. Please keep safe and healthy. |
This year, I'm participating in #BlogchatterA2Z powered by theblogchatter.com
