Search

A case of raging fernweh.... (or what Cornwall and travelling solo taught me)

lindaglamour
Jan 15, 2017
3 min read

Fernweh is one of those words that seems to grace many a travel bloggers page. It appeals to me because for the first time I have a word, albeit not an English one, which describes what I seem to have felt for my entire life. It is "farsickness" the longing for far off places.

Each morning I wake and I wonder where else could I be? What other walls and views could I be seeing, other lands I could be walking. This morning I am familiar with my beige walls and timber fence which is my view - though since my return from my last wanderings I have planted jasmine to climb the wall and I eagerly await its perfume through my opened window. I am two months returned from my solo travels through the UK and I am struck with raging fernweh and see no immediate cure in sight. Instagram is a placebo not the cure.

As any traveller does when one returns to base, one gets caught up in the maelstrom which is life back home. Like with any sickness there are recognisable symptoms - the ennui of the day, closing ones eyes opening them in hope that the view has changed, the disorientation of the vortex of home, family, work, relationships. I have yet to find an over the counter remedy.

Last night my sickness peaked. Hours passed as I restlessly moved from side to side. Fragments of future conversations to be had with a betraying lover filled my head. Such anguish makes sleep elusive. To distract myself I thought I would think of a happy time. A time when I felt whole, safe and peaceful and what came to mind was the Cornish seaside town of Falmouth. What I realise now is that the time I had alone there, how I engaged in activities which nourished my spirit and the peace I experienced taught me to be resilient and to feel secure on my own. And that can help when dealing with what hurts.

Falmouth is such a pretty coastal market town in Cornwall. I spent a happy week there walking out on to the moor and coastline experiencing Poldark filming locations, enjoying the sound of the seagulls and the sea shantys being sung at the local pub, the aroma of Cornish pasties for sale.

As I tried to sleep one particular experience came to mind. My AirBnB accommodation was an old fisherman's cottage refurbished and spread over three levels. From the lounge the glass doors opened up to a balcony with views over the harbour. I spent many a happy evening there alone, soaking up the last of the day's sunshine with a glass of wine in hand and my eyes sweeping the view - watching little fishing boats and ferries traverse the water.

Lying in my bed, I could summon the freshness of the breeze, the colour of the sky, the comfortable ache of an exercised body. I was there.

With this image in mind, I went to sleep.

At 3.45 am my mind was caught up in full conversations yet to be had.

It was a different view at this time that worked its magic.

I relived my morning routine when at Polruan. It wasn't that I slept late but rather the days were getting shorter and so I had the joy of getting out of bed and opening the faded floral sprigged curtains to the view of Polruan harbour and the vista of Fowey.

Bringing my breakfast of crumpets and tea back to bed, I would sit upright and watch the pastel blue sky of dawn brighten. On some occasions the pretty town lights were still on and I could gauge the time of the day by when the lights went off and the passenger ferry between Polruan and Fowey began its work. No matter the day, no matter the weather, such a view of water and sky is a panacea for all ills. As it was again for me last night.

There are many reasons why one travels. Perhaps fernwah calls to you. Perhaps it is to experience new cultures and flavours. Perhaps it is to come back home with the confirmed opinion that home is best.

There are many reasons why I travel. I now have a new one. I know that my solo travel experiences have made me stronger, resilient and more able to deal with the stresses that come my way. I know now that when I travel the value it adds is two fold; firstly, the experience itself. Secondly, the chance to draw upon its wonder through memory. Each journey adds to my own value and strength.