‘I think eighteen is such a good age to travel. When I was younger I used to complain that I was travelling only to Malaysia every year (on retrospect i was such an unappreciative brat), but given another chance to choose i would never let my younger self travel beyond Asia – it wouldnt have made as much of a difference to me. I wouldnt have known to appreciate the sights, the culture, photos… whichever country i went would probably have been Just Another Place.
I travelled twice this year, the first to Malaysia (geog trip!!) in March. It was fun. I thought alot then because Geography teaches us about life (tone: matter-of-fact). It is December and this trip to Japan I didn’t exactly learn alot, nor reflected much, but I did continually think about how lucky I am. I am, I am so damn lucky to be able to travel so often, more than I deserve. And I am only eighteen.
Eighteen’s a good age for a first encounter with snow. It’s the late teens; it’s neither too old nor too young. The burst of exhilaration makes one forget all about the cold. I find myself running (or at least trying to), throwing snow repeatedly in the air. As they fall they catch the morning light and they glisten, like sparkling jewels. Or fairy dust. I was happy
. I made a snow angel today (just hours ago, think about that!), I never thought I would ever get to do that. I rode down the icy hill, squealing with joy even with the freezing wind brushing roughly past my face. I couldn’t stop smiling. I love snow! Snow! Snow that I’ve read of in books, snow that I’ve seen on tv, in films.. And even now the memory feels surreal. I touched snow. Real snow. I am in awe.
For that, and volcanoes, it’s been an amazing trip.’