Sometimes You have to travel...

... to realize you already are where you are suppose to be.

As many of you know from reading earlier posts, I recently went away to South America to escape the cold and to fill the feeling of "must visit Argentina" that has been nagging at me since the first year post-accident. I had no idea why I felt this gravitational pull to South America or what I would discover. And despite Mr.G’s concern about the flight time, off we went to the unknown.

Our first stop was Peru – not part of the original plan, but when dear friends informed us that they would be there visiting family for the month of December and would love for us to join them, we could not resist. Our time in Peru was short, as the gravitational pull was Argentina, but our time with them and their Peruvian relatives will be one that we will treasure for the rest of our lives. (more on Peru in future posts).



Arriving in Argentina (Buenos Aires) was not at all what I had expected. The hotel our travel agent assured us was a 4 star , when I voiced concerns – was actually more like a 2 star (and that is being generous) and since all the 4 star plus hotels we contacted were fully booked until January 2 – ; 4 nights too many we tried to make the best of it. I won’t bore you with all the details, but we did finally relocate to Savoy Hotel.

All the travelling and stress of the first hotel took its toll on me and we scrapped our plans to travel to Mendoza or Mar del Plata. Instead we decided to stay put and explore the various districts of Buenos Aires (more to come on these districts in a future post).

Reflecting back on this trip and self analyzing the melt downs I had, and the events that occurred – it is clear that there was a need for me to experience everything we did. Going to a different country does not mean you leave behind the demons that haunt you day in and day out; somehow they hitch a ride in your suit case and gain strength.

My yearning for independence and freedom was even more threaten – I had to really depend on Mr. G to keep me sane (and at the best of times this can quite challenging for him to do); the chaos of traffic, people and a foreign language strained each and every nerve in my body, causing any relief on my bones and joints from the warm climate to quickly evaporate. Putting on a happy face so that people would not think I was going crazy … did not help my energy level or my emotional state. And I found at times, I wished that I just wouldn’t wake up – yes, very scary emotions to be experiencing especially in a developing foreign country.

What I did learn from this experience is that you cannot runaway to a foreign country and hope that life will somehow magically return to pre-accident. Yes, people there do not have a pre-accident me to constantly compare to post accident me; but, I still remember pre-accident me and I still compare and missing me ~ geography does not replace memory, if anything it may accentuate what I am no longer able to do.

So, the only travelling I will be doing is to the warm parts of the southern places in our sister country USA and the Caribbean islands where life is but a beach and warm. And discovering/creating a new me will be down close to home; where medical care and support is close at hand or at the very most a phone call away.