Back when I was living a relatively normal life, taking only a week or two off work at a time, I travelled in a certain way. Everything was planned to down to the last detail, I gave no thought to packing everything and the kitchen sink, and there were no more than two or three days during a vacation when I wasn't thinking about stuff piling up at the office.
Since I quit my job to travel long-term, my travelling style has been turned completely on its head. I'm playing things mostly by ear, I'm watching the weight of my backpack like a hawk, and the only time I think about work is when I have passing thoughts about all you poor bastards who are still stuck behind a desk.
One of the biggest changes in the way I travel is my attitude towards souvenirs.
I love wandering around markets. I'm still wandering through markets during my travels, but whereas I would come back previously with boatloads of souvenirs -- both to add to the increasing clutter of my apartment, and as presents to friends -- I've bought next to nothing in my last few months around South America. Souvenirs were a lot easier to handle when I knew I would be only lugging around all that extra crap for a few days before flying home.
Now, I can't do that. My pack already weighs a figurative tonne, and posting packages off this continent is expensive. The only minor souvenirs I've purchased have a practical slant to them -- Havaiana flip-flops in Brazil, football jerseys that can be worn, or a mate cup that I drink out of.
I'm walking past things that would make great presents for people back home. Shot glasses from Rio for Andrea. Bottles of Argentine or Chilean wine for my Dad. A Brazilian hardwood (non-Amazonian hardwood) jewelry box for Shannah.
But, back in Buenos Aires, I did break down and buy one gift. I had to.
Apparently, my wee, ten-month-old nephew is a huge fan of the Argentine National football team. At least that's what my brother tells me.
So, next time I see this little guy:
Nathan, just after spitting up on his grandparents
He'll get to wear this:
Para un niño -- dos anos
5 comments:
"next time you see him" which is ??? - i hope you bought it a couple sizes too big!
Keeping that backpack from overflowing will probably get more and more interesting along the way.
Good luck
Nigel
(one of those poor basters stuck behind a desk )
@ Andrea: If you knew any Spanish, or just how to use Google Translate, you'd know that caption to the photo says: "For a child -- two years old." :)
definitely missed the caption haha
Dude. We are cut from the same cloth. Ive come to the exact same conclusion about souvenirs. I also cant help but mention that we have almost identical perceptions about different places we have traveled too. Thats awesome. Im going to shout out your blog on Facebook!
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