I wanted England, where my family and I went in May on a long-obsessed-over trip, to overwhelm me with its Britishness.
And it did, it totally did. We're not exactly world travelers over here. There was a thrilling amount of novelty in BBC-style accents and a pocket full of foreign coins. Each strange new thing filled me with a giddy joy. Picture me exulting in the Tesco supermarket over little plastic cups of trifle and cookies called "Jammie Dodgers." Oh, Brits, how I love you.
Then, almost subconsciously, the four of us started to establish familiar rhythms in the midst of crazy London. Learning the ropes, as it were. There were still new sites to goggle at, but only after we'd swiped our Oyster cards on the double-decker bus like old pros. Only after we'd successfully navigated from our rental flat to the bus stop like we actually knew where we were in physical space.
It was a weird reminder that in a new place, mastery and familiarity create a sense of home quicker than discovery does. Our minds crave the temporary upending of the status quo (something I explain in my TEDx talk). But we also want a sense of control. Sometimes all that requires is shopping the same Tesco four days in a row and buying the same cups of trifle every time.
|
|
