From the most locked down city in the world to Europe for 13 days – why did I

My time had finally come. I had scrounged up some leave, managed to save up enough cash and all Covid-19 entry restrictions into Italy and Switzerland had been dropped. After almost three years stuck at home, I was going to TRAVEL again. Who cared if it was only 13 days in Europe?

It turns out, a lot of people cared.

There were those who were absolutely all for it – mostly close friends and co-workers (especially women with children, no surprises there) who expressed their envy, their certainty it would be an amazing experience, and their admiration that I was travelling solo.

They understood my need for a change after the tedium of the previous two years, and, at three-quarters of the way through the working year, we all felt like we needed a break.

One co-worker, who had just returned from maternity leave, told me, “you’re living the life I want to – you have to go!”

But more surprising were the lacklustre responses, and even some outright objections.

“You can’t go to Europe for just two weeks!”

“But it’s so expensive right now.”

“Why not go next year?”

“Wait for things to settle.”

Some, though clearly doubtful, were more tactful about it. Relatives and in-laws, for instance, may have looked at me quizzically at first, but accepted it.

After several of these reactions, I found myself justifying my trip, even though I knew I didn’t need to.

Of course, I was lucky to be able to travel. With the cost of living surging, many were not in the same position. But it wasn’t just a holiday; my main purpose was to join a creative writing retreat for a week, something I had always wanted to do, and it suddenly felt important for people to understand this.