A Small Deposit

For so many of us, when we travel, we fear one thing above all else. We fear the coffee that costs the same as it does in England, or the only dorm room left in town which is, really, only $2 more than all of the others. We fear the taxi over the bus and the ticking tock of the quickening clock. We fear the same thing that we did back home, the same thing that our mothers and friends do: we fear our money running out.
What the hell are we going to do when our money runs out?!
It’s as if the passing of time in the universe isn’t some real miracle, but rather the subtraction of numbers from numbers in a bank account that isn’t actually a physical thing. It’s as if once my money has run out, once the statement reads ZERO POUNDS, that’s it, I’m done for. There will be nothing left for it but to send myself to National Westminister bank and have them lock me up in a safe. 
It’s amazing how much of my life has been spent worrying about money. Particularly these last few weeks. We’ve just had to leave our wonderful friend Jason alone with all of the beautiful women of Medellin because, and I quote, “We are running out of money.” 

Yes, Emma and I have had to come to terms with the fact that though we worked so hard and saved so hard, our money is not an infinite resource like, say, the kindness of other human beings. 
We’ve had to come to terms with the fact that flying in a machine over the Atlantic Ocean isn’t free (at all), but rather takes up a huge chunk of your money. 

Surely now that our money is running out, that’s it. Surely now our intrepid adventurers must fold up their khakis and hang up the fedoras. It’s time to pack away the map and start filling in applications to ensure our safe return to the real world, right?

Right, yes. Because the real world is jobs and money and saving to leave. Of course it is. All that other stuff, the talking, the seeing, the slow revelations, the unending kindness of perfect strangers, the jenga games with Greenlandic shamans, the howling of the wolves at the solar system you’re staring into from the top of the mountain, the river running through the jungle…all that stuff, isn’t real, is it?
So, of course, now the money is running low it’s time for us to stop.

Isn’t it?

4 thoughts on “A Small Deposit

    • Hello,

      Great to hear you’re encouraging moneyless travel. It was great in Colombia. Tough, with longer waits hitchhiking because of strict laws on carrying hitchhikers there. But we found that Colombians were particularly friendly people…even more so than all the other ridiculously friendly places we’ve hitched. There are plenty of opportunities to volunteer on farms and other projects, too, which is always useful for a moneyless traveller. We found the truck drivers here had particularly interesting stories, having lived through a particularly tumultuous time in Colombian history. Really couldn’t recommend it more!

      Liked by 1 person

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