Travelling through time: a grandmother’s and granddaughter’s approach to life and travel
My Grandmother travelled solo for 9 months as a 32-year-old single female in 1952. I travelled as a 22-year-old coupled up working-holiday-maker in 2008 for 18 months. Considering my family always say I am so much like her, Nan and I were two very different people when we travelled Europe and it shows in the pages of our handwritten travel journals, which I’m recollecting in a new blog series.
My Nan had lived through the Great Depression, lost her fiancé in a plane crash during WWII, and gave up her dream of becoming a pharmacist to work for her father’s business. Her approach to travel was one of great awareness and appreciation. By comparison, I had lived an abundant life, pursued an education in another state (much to my parent’s sadness at the time), and had the man of my dreams by my side throughout my journey. My approach to travel was one of awe, of course, but laced with an element of nonchalance; to me, post-uni travel was simply an Aussie’s right of passage.
There is a grace and eloquence to Nan’s journal that is quite obviously lacking from my travel diary. But, for reasons unknown, in reading Nan’s words I feel so connected to her – as equally as I do my younger, naive self. It is also somewhat beautiful to see my transformation through the pages of two diaries in total. I can see the development of a young girl, fresh out of uni, with some fairly fixed views of the world, into a well-travelled, open-minded young woman whose sense of wanderlust would only grow in the days and years to come.
I am so different to who I used to be and it is evident upon re-reading my travel journal. Now, reading Nan’s travel journal for the first time, and being that much closer to her in age to when she travelled, I am filled with inspiration and desire to take off again and see the world through new eyes, with the appreciation of a sponge-like mind and the awareness of someone who is ready to know themselves – rather than someone who thinks they know themselves.
If we are a collective of every experience we have had in our lives, then I want to drown in a sea of knowledge and existence and travel and love…
Catch up on the series:
- Travelling through time: exploring similarities of grandmother’s travel journal and my own
- Grandmother’s travel journal: To London to visit the Queen
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