Jane Austen Archives - Nadine Walks

It’s 8:30pm in Bath, England. I’ve been camped out in my bunk for at least the past hour, relaxing and sort of trying to get back in the travel groove. I’m getting there, I think.

For starters, this hostel has rooms of three-tiered bunk beds; some of you may remember my excitement when I discovered these last year, on the Norte? Well as you may guess, I am indeed up on the very top bunk, and it’s perfect. There are privacy curtains and the top bunks are roomier, because there’s a lot of space between your head and the ceiling. There’s a little shelf for my water, an outlet all of my own, a small lamp, sheets and a pillowcase and a warm blanket.

It might be summer, but the UK is chilly. Maybe in more ways than one? I can’t comment much on the mood here after Brexit; I’m a tourist and sort of moving through things fast and am in a traveler’s bubble. But I’m curious, my ears are perked up. So far though, the only notable news I learned of (totally unrelated to Britain leaving the EU) is that Jane Austen is going to be taking Charles Darwin’s position on the 10 pound note next year. Supposedly, many are in opposition to this, but I’m a fan.

So is this why I’m in Bath, then? On a Jane Austen pilgrimage? I wish I could say I’d had this all planned out, but it’s just a happy coincidence. I flew into London and Bath is about a 2-hour bus ride away. It’s smaller and quainter and possibly even cheaper than London so I decided to spend a couple of days here after a friend’s recommendation. It wasn’t until I was talking to my sister (just last week!) that I thought about Jane. And then I realized that I didn’t know much about Bath and should probably do some research and what do you know? There’s an entire Jane Austen Centre here!

That was my one goal for the day: hit some of the Jane Austen sites. I’m starting small, with baby steps: just one tiny goal for my first day. I’m jet-lagged and running on very little sleep and overall am really adjusting to the whole ‘travel thing’. I went into this trip sort of feeling like I know what I’m doing, and maybe I am a bit more comfortable, but there’s still an adjustment period for me. And it remains one of the more surreal experiences of my life: to one day be on my couch in my apartment, and the next day, dressed in period clothing in Bath, England. Not this specific experience necessarily, just at how quickly you can move out of your regular life into something very different, very far away.

I feel like I’m floundering- just a bit- because this trip isn’t just about a Camino. I have an entire extra bag of clothing and man, does it complicate things. Where did I put that shirt, is my hairbrush in my pack or the duffel, where in the world is my soap?? I think I spent nearly 15 minutes standing in front of the locker where I shoved my things, trying to figure out what I needed for the shower. (Never did find the soap…) But, I’ll figure it out. I’ll get my travel legs under me, soon it’s going to feel like the only kind of life I’ve ever lived.

So that’s the update for Day One. The disjointed, sleep-deprived, tippy-top of the bunk report from England. It feels a little strange, a little foreign, but overall it feels good to be on the road again.

The great summer trip of 2016 begins in less than a week, so I thought it was about time that I check back in here with an update. And the only update I really have has already been said: I leave in less than a week!

Does time seem to be moving fast for anyone else? Like, really really fast? Until only a few days ago I was convinced that it was still May, that I had over a month to plan and prepare for my trip, that the days are continuing to lengthen, that summer was still far off.

But all of a sudden it was summer, and work had ended for the year, and the only thing that was looming before me was my big trip. I should be used to this by now, it’s been my pattern for the last three years: work ends around the middle of June, and I promptly hop on a plane for Europe.

So why does it feel like this trip is still weeks and weeks away? Last year, on the first day of summer, I was doing this:

I’d already been walking on the Camino for a few days, life at home felt like it was another world away.

My trip begins a bit later than usual this year, maybe that’s part of it. Or maybe it’s just that life is speeding by so fast that I yearn to hit a pause button, and give myself some time to catch up.

But there’s no stopping time so here we go. I think that finally, in these last few days, I’ve accepted that summer is here. I’ve gone to a baseball game and drank a coke slushey and had a dish of ice cream and spent a day at the beach. I’ve stretched in the lounge chair on my porch with my feet in the sun and read a book that I was too busy to finish months ago. Two days ago I went on a 10-mile hike; tomorrow I’ll try for 12-miles. This is the most hiking I’ve done in a long, long time, and well, it’s about time.

And then next week, I’ll leave for Europe. My first stop is England, something I don’t think I even mentioned in my Summer 2016 blog post. It sort of got lost in the shuffle of my mind, and stayed lost until just a couple days ago. But- oh yeah!- I decided to fly into London because it’s been a solid 15 years since I’ve been there and I thought it could be nice to do something a little new.

This photo is from my last trip to England, all those years ago:

My friend reminded me that our original plan was to spend a few days in London, then head to Stonehenge. But in 2001, Stonehenge was closed for 5 1/2 weeks because of foot-and-mouth disease, so we went to Liverpool instead (and honestly, this was probably my vote all along… Long Live Ringo!).

It’s a bit crazy to think back to that trip- parts of it that feel like a lifetime ago, other parts that are so recent in my memory I could swear that I was just there. Wasn’t I just there? Leaving notes for our friends on scraps of paper at the hotel lobby because this was just before any of us had a cell phone; crossing the street at the wrong end of Abbey Road (and causing quite the pile up of traffic in order to get a photo); battling a cold on the train to London and the endless cups of tea to soothe my throat; noticing that a small magnolia tree was growing in the front yard of the house where George Harrison grew up.

These memories are creeping in because I finally sat down and planned some things for my three days in England. I focus on these details for a moment- there’s a Jane Austen Centre in Bath! I can finally make it to Stonehenge!- but then an email pulls me into another part of the trip. It’s from the writer’s retreat in southern France- our host has forwarded a suggested shopping list so that we’re not overwhelmed when we arrive and are whisked off to the grocery store. And then I think back to my time there three years ago, and how I was overwhelmed, and didn’t buy quite enough food. Will that happen again? What will the village be like- will it be just as I remembered, or will there be changes?

And what am I like, this time? Three years wasn’t all that long ago, and yet, I know that I am different. And certainly, I’m different than I was 15 years ago, on that first trip to London and Liverpool.

Different, and yet… still me. Always me.

There’s more, too: another Amazon package arrived at my door, it’s a guide to walking the West Highland Way. And then I need to push the days in England and the writer’s retreat from my mind, and focus on Scotland. Scotland! I know nothing about Scotland! Shouldn’t I learn something, shouldn’t I do some research? A friend warns me about the haggis, and I wonder if I will try it.

And then, finally, in the very back corner of my mind, I remember that I’m also walking a Camino. That I’m returning to Spain. I’ve barely given it any thought, because this is the thing that feels the most familiar, the most comfortable. Other than breaking in a new pair of shoes, I haven’t done much in preparation. I have all my gear, I know where I’m going; this is the thing that I don’t have to plan for.

But remember just two years ago? My fretting and my fear in the weeks before I left for Spain that first time? Wasn’t I just memorizing the Spanish words for ‘I’m allergic to nuts’ and wondering how, exactly, I was to go about hand-washing my clothing?

Ah, time. I still don’t know what to make of it, of how quickly life is streaming past, yet of how far I’ve seemed to travel in what feels like very fleeting moments. I know that in August, I’m going to be back here at my computer, in my apartment, marveling over how fast the summer just went by.

Of course I will. But I’m not at the end yet, I’m only at the very beginning. So, here’s to summer! May it be the best one yet.