November 30, 2010

The dream vacation

In my head, there's this perfect little New England B&B, in a perfect little town, surrounded by lovely paths that are perfect for thoughtful, relaxing strolls. I wear cozy sweaters and toasty mugs of coffee or hot chocolate warm my hands. No digital e-reader for me, I curl up next to a scenic window with the comforting weight of a real book in my hands. I lose time in the most luxurious of ways.

The sounds around me are the background hum of other people's daily life. The rustle of wind in the trees mixes pleasantly, though probably inaccurately, with the rush of the ocean. See, my mind can't decide if my B&B is on the coast or in the country, but this small detail doesn't bother me at all.

The crucial point is, I'm alone.

I have never taken a trip completely by myself. Oh, I've flown solo on my way to visit other people, sure. But I've never gone to a location for the single purpose of just being somewhere, anywhere, all on my own.

"Wait a minute", Kurt protested over dinner the other night. "I know this is your little dream escape but I thought it was for US to go away. Together!".

I could hem and haw right now, try to smooth over his exclusion from this imaginary vacation of mine. I won't, though. It's my dream, right? And in it, I'm not anyone's mom or wife, friend or family. I'm just a woman all alone in a lovely little place. Probably I could go several days without even talking to anyone beyond a brief nod of hello or good morning. As much as I love my husband (and I really, really DO love the guy), the idea of such silence… well. Let's just say my fantasies don't aspire to much more beyond that at this point in my life.

As time goes by, my imagination fills in more and more little details of this trip: the old bookstore with overstuffed chairs tucked away between shelves, the local café with a menu dedicated to comfort foods and amazing pie. Sometimes when the decibel level in my own house reaches critical maximum (which happens often with three kids), I close my eyes and go to the wrap-around porch of the B&B, snuggle into a cushioned wicker chair and watch the leaves rustle on an apple tree nearby.

I know that no such place actually exists. I could be setting myself up for more disappointment each time I add sweet details to the dream. But I don't think so. I think that somewhere out there is a perfectly nice little place with enough of its own charming details to stand up against my own imaginings.

And one day, all by myself… I'll go and find it.

For now, I can curl up in my own comfy chair in the playroom, hands wrapped around my own mug of coffee and close my eyes during the occasional moments when all the kids are happily off chasing their own imaginations with the help of crayons, dolls, teething rings and blanket tents. After all, those days are their own kind of dream, too, and not to be forgotten.

If you could go anywhere, for just a little while all on your own, where would it be?


The Rock's Girl said...

I have a dream cabin, nestled in the woods of a mountain range where there are lots of trees, and the ocean is far away because sea gulls are evil.

I like your B&B idea, it sounds like a nice solo get away idea, and there are a few nice ones around here. I might have to look into this... New England would be lovely and is a dream vacation spot of mine too, but there are plenty of places around here that I could escape to.

alison said...

The location is not important but the silence is, I can't agree more that a quite place is the ideal vacation at this point in our lives. I dream of a quiet spa weekend!

rmdc said...

a little hill at Giant's Causeway, in Northern Ireland. I've been there before and I'd give just about anything to go again and just sit there with the ocean breeze on my face, the smell of salt in my nostrils, the soft grass under me and just the pure majesty of it all.

grandmem said...

Once, about 30 years ago, when I was going to present a paper at a computer conference in Plymoth, New Hampshire, my then boss (the cute blonde guy - can't remember his name) talked me into staying at his favorite inn in NH instead of a hotel in Plymouth. Megan it was SUCH a wonderful place. Big, big rectangular house with a porch all along the front. Very rural. Big ancient cemetary across the stree where I wandered among trees and 300 year old graves. And the meals! I could not believe the wonderousness of the meals. Hated to take time off to go to the conference long enough to present my paper. Now for the bad part. I have no idea what the name of this place is, or even WHERE it was - other than within about 50 miles of Plymouth. Sad. So sad.

Emily said...

New York City.

Maybe because it's such a change of pace from my current life. Maybe because you're not really alone there unless you choose to be. Maybe because it has so much energy, I find it weirdly relaxing (as a casual visitor -- living there is not relaxing).