Everyone hits a point where they feel they've hit a plateau. A feeling of no growth, being stuck in the same place with the same you. Even the most interesting town, that you have been dreaming of traveling to for a long time, can stop surprising you as much as you try to discover new areas. When we're all caught up in our routines, doing what we need to do but not necessarily what we want to do, it often results in the same need: the urge to escape.
Although there is some safety in mindlessly going through your everyday life, as time passes by I risk to suffocate by this inevitable and occasional standstill. The difficult part about this is that I'm constantly aware of the fact that it is me and my actions that decide how far I will get. But the longer this period lasts, the more demotivated I become, even about work I'm usually passionate about. It's like sitting in a room full of open doors to stunning destinations and new experiences, waiting to be lived - but the only time I stand up and move is to go to the coffee table and pour myself another cup of the usual.
To stop myself from insanity, I do what I always do when all the cheesy encouragements about happiness, and failing cat videos on Facebook don't make me laugh anymore: I break my routine. I escape. I've talked about the importance of impulsiveness in a previous blog post, how it can help you find out more about your real desires. This time, I put the advice into action and took a spontaneous trip to Stamford. And oh boy, did I rediscover my love for England.
Stamford looked exactly the way my excited Self on her pre-journey had imagined England. Narrow streets, old brick houses and cute little shops everywhere I went, and by no means can I leave out all the lovely old women who I passed by. They looked like the perfect representation of British style with their cute little hats - even their voices made them sound like they had starred in Mary Poppins or some other British movie I can't think of when I need it the most. The fog that was wrapped around the town only contributed to the ever so cliché description of British weather, also called British summer and pretty much every other season. But I'm not complaining, it was definitely the cherry on top of this new experience.
I enjoyed not knowing where to go, wandering around and capturing it all for the first time. Everything was unfamiliar, being in the middle of the unexpected, my feet and shop signs leading the way. Finally, I noticed that my curiosity had apparently not left me yet, and the thought of coming back was just as thrilling as knowing that I would probably going to get lost if I continued walking. As silly as it sounds, to me, being in the unknown is part of the adventure, and definitely one of the main reasons why I decided to take on a new challenge and go on exchange. If you enjoy chasing the unknown, an exchange year would definitely be something I'd recommend to you (or going backpacking in South America, if you're happy to sleep on park benches).
However, in celebration of escaping and now being in the process of curation, I wanted to share some crappy and low quality snapshots with you that I took during my short trip to Stamford. For the full experience, click on the picture and check out my Instagram the next several days (yes, I was that tourist who stopped every 10 meters to take pictures, so be prepared for a few weeks of Stamford).
Talk to you all soon. x