The uncharted wilderness of your mind
Two things happen simultaneously when you travel: you discover a new place, and you discover something about yourself. The first is the stuff of travelogues, packed with adjectives (verdant, pristine) and descriptive shortcuts (It’s like The Lord of the Rings!); you know that National Geographic/Discovery Channel/Lonely Planet have been there before you. The second is an expedition into largely uncharted territory: yourself. You are in unfamiliar surroundings, among strangers; your comfortable assumptions do not operate here. We could argue that this is the natural, stripped-down, real version of you. Meet yourself. A mildly terrifying prospect, if you think about it: What if you don’t like you?
The other week I learned that I am a complete moron in the outdoors, that there are places in the world where no one’s heard of Manny Pacquiao, and 25 years is too short a time not to hear the 80s pop hit “Der Kommissar”. I learned that walking barefoot on stones is painful, where a handbrake is, and how to take a shower, shampoo, and apply conditioner in under ten minutes. I also confirmed my long-held suspicion that if you go to a dance club and the first song you hear is “It’s Raining Men”, you are in for a night of horror.
New Zealand, the epic in Emotional Weather Report, today in the Star.
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