There you are. Travel may change you in slow and subtle ways, perhaps even in profound ways given enough time or intensity of experience, but you do not get to escape yourself. Whatever weaknesses you have at home, you have those away as well. Whatever your family argues about at home, it will argue about whatever version of that is available away as well. Whatever pathology lies in your heart or DNA, you cannot leave it in a drawer at home.
So, in the Outback or on the Zambezi or here in fabled and fabulous Istanbul, Alexander still has raging ADHD and talks like a machine gun about video games and jumps around blindly into danger. And Isabel is still profoundly shy and anxious to the point of having panic attacks. And I am still a bit of a control freak, a little too pleased with my own opinions. (And what about Lorraine? I may be a fool, but honestly...!)
In keeping with the "reality check" theme of this post I have dug into the vaults for a couple of shots from Bali that illustrate it best.
Ironically I write this while gazing out across the Bosphorus in utter peace with nobody acting up, whining or complaining. Not even me.
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