There is so much to say about traveling but it is hard to pinpoint the one thing that is the very best memory of them all, so far then I mean.
My first spontaneous though was the beach in Portugal on the coast of Algarve when I was 8 years old, traveling abroad the first time (that I remember). I had this yellow bathing suit in some form of expendable material and when talking with my friends when I got older they said that they still remember the suntan I got from this bathing suit. This and a purple I had later.
I guess that it is hard to compete with memories from being a child, you always have stronger feelings/ and appreciate things more, don´t you? Just to remember the sand between my toes and the waves from the Atlantic ocean is great. I know now that when I revisit I don´t feel the same. Now my reactions towards the Atlantic is ”God damn this is cold”.
Considering a more recent travel memory that I can described as my best I most likely will turn to the trip to Peru last year. In so many ways this is the trip of a lifetime. But if to describe a specific memory I will, to no surprise, say Machu Picchu. Standing on top of a mountain, looking down on the rain forest and over the Andes a specific feeling comes to mind. A feeling of peace and calm.
But the very best and fondest memories I have traveling is the 30 km´s to my family´s summer cabin when I was a child. When returning I feel the same and feel how amazingly privileged I was to have a summer cabin to go to and spend my lazy summer days as a child. Driving there the road is a bit bumpy and we always screamed to my aunt, uncle and grandma ”go faster, go faster” and when they did, we screamed of happiness. It is those little things that in the end are the best travel memories.
Photos shot with some old traditional compact analog. The photos I have gotten from my aunt.
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