“A one week vacation? Nice, where are you going?”
“I wish I could go with you; where are you going?”
I have been asked this question numerous times during the last month since I announced that I plan to take one-week off. People are making an immediate connection between a vacation and going somewhere.
The truth is that I can no longer fly.
There is no concrete evidence connecting flying to suffering another brain damage. But I know of a person with my syndrome. She suffered neurological damage right after landing.
That’s enough for me to avoid flying for the rest of my life. Another neurological damage, this time to my left brain, would mean the end of my life as I know it.
Since I live in Israel, a country surrounded by hostile nations, it means I can’t drive or take a train abroad either.
My only option is taking a boat across the Mediterranean.
The closest will be to Rhodes or Cyprus. From there another ship to the mainland and then by train, I guess. There is no regular boat service; I will have to see how this will work out. In any case, getting to Germany, for example, will take a week. It means that two weeks out of my vacation time are just going to be spent on commute.
That sucks, ha?
You know the old saying that people come back home and say:
“Ahh, it’s so good to be back home.”
Well, if it is so good to be back home, why did you leave in the first place?
I guess people go abroad because they want to escape the kind of life they have back home.
Even before my injury, I have made up my mind not to fly more than 6 hours in each direction. More than that and you start to suffer from jet lag. What’s the point of going somewhere if you are going to be tired most of the day?
Each time after coming back, I have used to ask myself, was it worth to spend all the money?
Could I have used the money in better ways? Ways to would have made me happier?