I have been home a week now. Most of that time I have spent inside my apartment, sequestered and safe. It's strange because for all the time I spent outside during my walk 'outside' now seems unappealing and even frightening at times. Of course I am in the big city which makes a difference. And San Francisco is certainly becoming "the Big City" as more and more high rises claim every available open space blocking out views, sunlight and that open feeling that added to SF's charm. Even the big city lot two blocks from my place that I helped turn into a beautiful urban farm/garden was razed while I was gone and is slated for more expensive high rises. I'm choking here.
But inside I feel good. I have slept much, read, listened to music, sat still. It is a refuge. Being quiet has helped. I still am not keen to talk about the walk too much; I believe I need to distance myself from it a bit more before I can begin to digest it all (over again). It was/is a lot. Fortunately, many friends have been respectful enough to give me the space I need and have tried to understand where I'm coming from. I don't expect everyone to empathize because some just cannot. My friends, however, that have traveled far & wide and for long periods of time, they get it. My former Peace Corps friends get it. My friend who walked this summer in peace against the Keystone Pipeline, he gets it. In fact, he is going through a bit of the same thing I am right now and his journey was only three weeks.
I have read a little (there seems to be only a little available) online about "post-hiker depression". How to make sense of it all. How to reintegrate after months of being so close to the earth, especially now surrounded by so much concrete. I'm maybe less depressed than I am confused. I'm just not sure what-next, where-next. I am trying to get back to my pre-walk life but except for a few things it doesn't fit right anymore. So there is now a rearranging to come, to figure out how to live. Out with the old, in with the new. But more immediate, I just want to walk outside and breathe again. I want to hear birds not cars. I want to listen to the rustle of leaves in the breeze not young hipsters yelling to their friends. I want to see sky not buildings. For now I must accept that I am smack dab in the city, in a rent-controlled, affordable apartment and find my peace where I can.
I may have done something very brilliant before I left in March--I accepted some work in early September that has me outside the city, in more open spaces. Already I am relishing the escape, to be outdoors and feel the tranquil environs of nature. Until then, I must continue to rest and build up my strength. I went out yesterday to run a few errands on my own. Parts of my feet are still numb, I'm guessing from nerves that were a bit overused. The bum knee I had originally dealt with during the start of my walk is fairing well as long as I do my daily stretches. But it was my legs that got wobbly after an hour, as if I were a newborn colt standing up for the first time. And I got woozy, light-headed too. I realized I had reached overload so I closed my eyes, blocked out stimulation, breathed, and got centered again before I continued.
Time heals all, right? This will be no different. I just wonder where I'll be when it's time to rebuild and move on. Something new must emerge. Something. One friend has already asked when I will be walking the next portion of the world, namely "Istanbul to Beijing". When I read that I thought, 'you gotta be kidding, I just stopped'. Moments later, however, I was giving it consideration. Walking just makes sense. And at this point I rule out nothing.
Tuesday, August 27, 2013
Sunday, August 18, 2013
The Hardest Part
I am beginning to wonder what was/is the hardest part of this whole journey? Is it the walk and its various parts or is the return back "home"?
When I arrived in the U.S. (I first landed in Charlotte, N.C.) I went through the usual customs procedures only then to find myself having to go through a second, Homeland Securities search, whereby some very stoic official tore apart every single thing I had with me down to empty plastic bags and folded up socks. He claimed I had been to too many countries which thus warranted my shakedown. I felt like a criminal in my own land.
I had crossed so many borders during my previous months and at nearly all, I received smiles, congrats on my walk (miles done up to that point) and even welcomes. In my own country I received nothing, not a "welcome back home" or smile or anything. Only the unfriendly patdown of a convict. It set a rotten tone.
The U.S. citizens at the airport were also a different breed from the folks I had been interacting with these past months. Movements were faster, everyone was on a handheld device, little courtesy, lots of swearing.
Since I had missed my connecting flight from Charlotte I was fortunate to find a United Airlines rep who was very sympathetic and booked me on another flight on a different carrier without much layover time. I needed his friendliness to get me through the next couple hours.
I arrived in Cleveland, Ohio to spend time with my family. Things started off well and I tried everyday to maintain a sense normalcy. But to be honest, my head hasn't adjusted to being back, my body is drained of energy, and it ended up not being my best family visit.
On the eve of returning to SF I question how I will feel walking into my studio apartment, being surrounded by city. I feel unsure. By not walking I do not seem to process my days as well as I was when I was on the road. I'm not making the best decisions. My head spins suddenly and then it stops but I am not entirely sure where it has stopped. If I was the Happy Wanderer in Europe then I feel like the Lost Soul in America. Maybe all I need is more rest and time to reaquaint myself to home life. I hope so.
When I arrived in the U.S. (I first landed in Charlotte, N.C.) I went through the usual customs procedures only then to find myself having to go through a second, Homeland Securities search, whereby some very stoic official tore apart every single thing I had with me down to empty plastic bags and folded up socks. He claimed I had been to too many countries which thus warranted my shakedown. I felt like a criminal in my own land.
I had crossed so many borders during my previous months and at nearly all, I received smiles, congrats on my walk (miles done up to that point) and even welcomes. In my own country I received nothing, not a "welcome back home" or smile or anything. Only the unfriendly patdown of a convict. It set a rotten tone.
The U.S. citizens at the airport were also a different breed from the folks I had been interacting with these past months. Movements were faster, everyone was on a handheld device, little courtesy, lots of swearing.
Since I had missed my connecting flight from Charlotte I was fortunate to find a United Airlines rep who was very sympathetic and booked me on another flight on a different carrier without much layover time. I needed his friendliness to get me through the next couple hours.
I arrived in Cleveland, Ohio to spend time with my family. Things started off well and I tried everyday to maintain a sense normalcy. But to be honest, my head hasn't adjusted to being back, my body is drained of energy, and it ended up not being my best family visit.
On the eve of returning to SF I question how I will feel walking into my studio apartment, being surrounded by city. I feel unsure. By not walking I do not seem to process my days as well as I was when I was on the road. I'm not making the best decisions. My head spins suddenly and then it stops but I am not entirely sure where it has stopped. If I was the Happy Wanderer in Europe then I feel like the Lost Soul in America. Maybe all I need is more rest and time to reaquaint myself to home life. I hope so.
Thursday, August 8, 2013
A Dream Within A Dream
If Dr. Seuss was a Turk he'd most definitely be from Cappadocia. What a strange and beautiful place. The "fairy chimney" formations are remarkable shapes of whimsy, dollops of cream stone, pinnacles, castles, fat phallus forms, balanced rocks, witch hats, and many carved into years ago as homes, monasteries, churches, pigeon houses, storage areas. The history of the region goes back to 8,000 BC. Some of the rock hewn churches have original paintings inside that are 100s of years old when the Xtians moved in. It is all very mind-boggling. Cappadocia should be a number one choice for any traveler into art, history and nature. Walking through some of the valleys has been a perfect antidote to time in busy Istanbul. I am reminded of a mix of Death Valley, Zion and Bryce but all with it's own specialness. Four days was a good way to wind things down.
But I must admit that much of how I feel is dream-like. The walk seems so very distant now. It too does not seem real. How can something so long and arduous and indelible feel so far away? It's nearly as if it never happened. Someone explain this too me. Sure, I get a flash of a moment from my walk during the daytime but I have also gotten that from some of my vivid dreams too. Which is real? Maybe it has to do with the stopping of movement. When I walked the past several days in the valleys of Cappadocia I have felt very happy and invigorated again. Thoughts flowed freely. But when I've stopped for periods during my waking hours I have felt more muddled, unclear, not sure of who I am or where I am or where I was, what I did. Maybe I just need some time to ease back into a non-walking road life. I know I adjusted to life on the road, to a life of full, daily motion. And that took weeks.
I leave in a few hours for a bus to Ankara and then wait at the airport for an early AM flight(s) back to the US. It has only been 5 months that I have been away but it feels like a year. My body is looking forward to just sitting around for 24 hours but my mind is dreading it. At least the planes I will fly will be traveling at great speeds even if I will rest comfortably in a still chair.
But I must admit that much of how I feel is dream-like. The walk seems so very distant now. It too does not seem real. How can something so long and arduous and indelible feel so far away? It's nearly as if it never happened. Someone explain this too me. Sure, I get a flash of a moment from my walk during the daytime but I have also gotten that from some of my vivid dreams too. Which is real? Maybe it has to do with the stopping of movement. When I walked the past several days in the valleys of Cappadocia I have felt very happy and invigorated again. Thoughts flowed freely. But when I've stopped for periods during my waking hours I have felt more muddled, unclear, not sure of who I am or where I am or where I was, what I did. Maybe I just need some time to ease back into a non-walking road life. I know I adjusted to life on the road, to a life of full, daily motion. And that took weeks.
I leave in a few hours for a bus to Ankara and then wait at the airport for an early AM flight(s) back to the US. It has only been 5 months that I have been away but it feels like a year. My body is looking forward to just sitting around for 24 hours but my mind is dreading it. At least the planes I will fly will be traveling at great speeds even if I will rest comfortably in a still chair.
Friday, August 2, 2013
The Last Pıece Of The Puzzle
Am I a masochıst?
I awoke two nights ago at 3AM and needed to pull out my maps and look at them. I wasn't feeling right. My original intention was to walk from Gilbraltar, known in ancient times as the gateway to the west, to Istanbul which was the gateway to the east. The whole of the European continent. But I never walked to the edge, I never did walk to the Bosphorus and look out over to Asia. I needed to finish my walk.
Catalca was satisfactory as a landing as it was just inside the Istanbul border. And I was so tıied last Sunday that it was fine with me. But with strength coming back I started to feel that I could have walked the final chunk had I only the power at the time. That time was now. I knew I could now walk most of the rest of this route, especially with my big pack off my shoulders.
I took a taxi this morning before 4AM to withın about 10-12km of Catalca. There is a stretch before that which might not have been very good to walk on because of the vehicular movement. Where I started was, for the most part, with some sort of sidewalk area. A few times I had to run across exit ramps (I was on a motorway) which I never could have done with my 33 pound backpack. It was so much easier without the weight on my shoulders. Luckily, my morning was full of cloud cover and even a few sprinkles.
I walked about 45 km with my ipod on to ease the sound of the freeway. In the neıghborhood of Topkapi I got to see a huge chunk of the old city walls which was marvelous and then I continued straight to Hagia Sophia and the Sultanahmet neighborhood. From there I went through the gardens of the Topkapi Palace which was a peaceful respite from the rest of the morning and a lovely way to wind things down. Finally, I went to the water's edge where the Marmara Sea and The Golden Horn meet with the Bosphorus Straight which separates Europe from Asia. I made it to the end of Europe. And today it really feels like the walk is complete.
I am not too tired though my feet retaliated a little. I am going to see whirling dervishes tonight and tomorrow will take a boat cruise up the Bosphorus. I leave Istanbul in the PM for some inland rest at Cappadocia.
I am sure most folks who tuned in to the last blog will not even read this because they will think the walk was over. But it did not feel over for me and I think I would have had regrets had I left Istanbul without finishing this final piece of my walk. I think I will really feel at peace now.
I awoke two nights ago at 3AM and needed to pull out my maps and look at them. I wasn't feeling right. My original intention was to walk from Gilbraltar, known in ancient times as the gateway to the west, to Istanbul which was the gateway to the east. The whole of the European continent. But I never walked to the edge, I never did walk to the Bosphorus and look out over to Asia. I needed to finish my walk.
Catalca was satisfactory as a landing as it was just inside the Istanbul border. And I was so tıied last Sunday that it was fine with me. But with strength coming back I started to feel that I could have walked the final chunk had I only the power at the time. That time was now. I knew I could now walk most of the rest of this route, especially with my big pack off my shoulders.
I took a taxi this morning before 4AM to withın about 10-12km of Catalca. There is a stretch before that which might not have been very good to walk on because of the vehicular movement. Where I started was, for the most part, with some sort of sidewalk area. A few times I had to run across exit ramps (I was on a motorway) which I never could have done with my 33 pound backpack. It was so much easier without the weight on my shoulders. Luckily, my morning was full of cloud cover and even a few sprinkles.
I walked about 45 km with my ipod on to ease the sound of the freeway. In the neıghborhood of Topkapi I got to see a huge chunk of the old city walls which was marvelous and then I continued straight to Hagia Sophia and the Sultanahmet neighborhood. From there I went through the gardens of the Topkapi Palace which was a peaceful respite from the rest of the morning and a lovely way to wind things down. Finally, I went to the water's edge where the Marmara Sea and The Golden Horn meet with the Bosphorus Straight which separates Europe from Asia. I made it to the end of Europe. And today it really feels like the walk is complete.
I am not too tired though my feet retaliated a little. I am going to see whirling dervishes tonight and tomorrow will take a boat cruise up the Bosphorus. I leave Istanbul in the PM for some inland rest at Cappadocia.
I am sure most folks who tuned in to the last blog will not even read this because they will think the walk was over. But it did not feel over for me and I think I would have had regrets had I left Istanbul without finishing this final piece of my walk. I think I will really feel at peace now.
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