Christmas abroad

This entry is not about how people celebrate their Christmases in different countries or what they celebrate instead. This is an entry about my first Christmas that I’m not spending at home. The first time, without going to the Christmas market in my hometown drinking Glühwein. Without my family.

City center in Málaga

During my travels I met a lot of people who are going back home for Christmas and initially my goal was to finish this journey till mid-December so I’d be home, too. But Murphy’s law meant it to happen in another way.

The view from my balcony in Madrid

The reasons for that are simple: first of all I stood longer in Valencia than expected. Not only Valencia, it happened several times that I extended my stay in some cities just because I liked them or I met some people with whom it was fun to hang around. After a while of traveling alone you appreciate guys that are on the same wavelength as you are. But Valencia was definitely the longest stay with almost three months.
Another reason is that the list of places you want to go to grows and grows every time you talk to somebody. “Oh, you’re going to <insert random place> then you definitely have to go to <insert place nearby>”
And so my list is now almost twice as long as it was when I started. I don’t really mind about that as it’s nice to travel, especially off-season.
Third reason, at least for me, was that you meet someone on the road and your paths divide, which is pretty common. But then you’ll text each other saying “Hey, I’m here now … doing whatever” or a friend starts working in a town nearby which was not on your radar, but as it is close you’ll go there anyway. And shit, that was a good decision.

City center in Málaga

So, you’ll see, reasons for extending a journey pile up. I bet there are several more but these are the main ones for my extension.
And I have to say: not being committed to a timetable is fucking awesome. Hundreds of people I met said the couldn’t stay any longer as they have to catch a flight, or ferry, or whatever and were really sad about it as they had a great time (… with me of course).
I remember, when I booked the ferry to Morocco I was a little bit more stressed than usual. Just because of suddenly having a deadline. Start working again will be a huge obstacle for me.

I have to admit, I’m not a real Christmas person. Hearing the first time “Last Christmas” in the radio or seeing gingerbread in the supermarket shelves … I wouldn’t say that annoys me, well it does, but only because they start in November. I mean what the hell?
Luckily, I got my mother to not start putting on decoration before my birthday, which is mid-November. But you’re abroad and you start missing and appreciating all the small things. The big things don’t even bother me that much. But not being able to go to the best Christmas market in the whole fucking world (Nuremberg) kinda makes me sad. I’m thinking when I was at home I didn’t like it that much because it’s in a small place with way too many people but now where I’m not there I miss it.
Not only will you miss Christmas or holiday related stuff but small things in general. I remember my Spanish teacher saying, before I left to Barcelona for three months last year, “You’re going to miss German bread”. I was like what the F? They have bread everywhere. It’s just bread. And I don’t even eat that much of the German bread. But hell, she was right.
We even found a bakery serving German pretzels (originally from the Oktoberfest) but they were three euros for one pretzel. At my bakery at home I get three for 99 cents.

I’m drifting apart …

Walking through the cities with their Christmas lights make you think. Make you miss your home.
We were sitting in the hostel in Málaga when one girl said “Happy first Advent, guys” and I thought to myself “Shit man, she’s right.” It was already the first and I had no clue how close Christmas was. Till that moment.
In the beginning of the December, when it all started, I went to Morocco. Over there they are not really stressed about all this Christmas stuff. Ask yourself why.
That was good for me to get rid of it and not to be reminded of it all the time. Ironically the first time they checked my passport was because I took a picture of some lights in Ceuta. The police were a little bit after it and thought I took a picture of them. Cunts.

I’m back in Europe now, where you cannot simply walk through the city center without being reminded of Christmas or Hanukah. Just think of how beautiful they are and enjoy the moment.

The outstanding question is, why. Why don’t I just go home for Christmas?
Because of two reasons. One: I’m a man who doesn’t want to leave things unfinished (some might intervene right now as there are a lot of started projects of mine) but in the end this actually bothers me. Hello OCD.

I don’t want to go home, back to Spain to travel for one more month and go back home again.
Another reason is, as always, the money. Ned in Valencia told me if I want to go home for Christmas I should book a flight right now. That was in the beginning of November maybe. I knew he was right but at that time I didn’t know whether I’d make it or not and from where I’d fly. And the worst would have been to skip the last part of the journey just because of a flight that leaves from Barcelona in two days while you’re still sunbathing in Lagos. So, I didn’t book a flight.
Checking them now it’s a fucking disaster. Why can’t I be rich and have my own private jet? Is it too late to write a letter to Santa?

On the other hand I thought it will be an interesting experience not being at home for Christmas. It won’t be that hard, I thought.
I survived other things, so I’ll survive this one too.

For all my friends, who are waiting for me, I gotta say:
look at this photograph, every time I do it makes me laugh.

Me in the city center of Toledo

Merry Christmas everybody. Hoe. Hoe. Hoe.