I marvelled at all these European cities — Cologne, Nuremberg, Munich, Salzburg, Lucerne, Grindelwald, Geneva, Paris, and Brugge — in that order through a ten-day European road trip where I saw history and the future.

I saw people’s different motivations to travel, the younger ones being the most engrossed with it, of not being here and of being somewhere else as if they’re always looking for themselves.

I wanted to collect souvenirs as I passed by these cities but changed my mind shortly after. I gave up, just after acquiring my first piece, from Rome, my snowball collection. First it was expensive, then it was heavy, and then I just thought, it does not make sense to spend time collecting material things if it means taking away time from collecting experiences.

Living in a place other than your country makes you live life more excitedly. You’re inclined to put more life in to your everyday, knowing somehow that these are temporary, that you are not staying in this foreign land all the days of your life.

I also met Filipino families living in these foreign lands and realised that, wherever you are in the world, you’re kind of inclined to go back to who you are, and you try to find who you are in wherever you are. That is why, people of the same cultures tend to gather and make time to see each other, because then they get a feel of being home.

I saw Paris for the first time, and for some reason, I felt lonelier than I already was. It was so beautiful and romantic it’s not for going solo.

I heard Silent Night sung in its original version in Salzburg, went on a DIY Sound of Music tour, and somehow it compensated for the type of Christmas celebration I was missing out on back home.

I walked inside the walls of the old Roman Empire and just idled on the steps of the Pantheon as if, and frankly quite realistically, an unemployed Roman. I marvelled at these grand European cities and how far away they are to the third world where I came from. Through my lenses, I wrote down my daily musings — 68 days in all — in a blog called reflectionsofanearly30.blogspot.com

Above all, I learned to slow down and let things happen just as babies eat and live without knowing how. I learned to appreciate the life that my parents gave me and honestly wondered if they had the same issues as I have now.

I learned to believe in myself as steadfastly as the Alps stood on its feet. The years are faster when you’re older and it’s always best to cherish every moment that happens to us.

I wrote:

The sun’s rays go frantic on the window of the train, shimmering, frolicking. You can stare straight at the sun, it’s not so cruel, appearing and hiding, playing with the clouds. It was just a mild type of sun, where you can stare at it, in fact you can see it perfectly round so clearly. And in your gaze, without flinching, without awareness of where you are or whether you are at all in the right train or going the right direction, just without blinking, you experience eternity. This is eternity. When time seems to stop, you’re hypnotised, and you are not in control, dazed, almost trance-like. It’s the fact that you’re unaware of yourself, of what’s happening, that you feel like time does not exist. And when you snap out and become aware of your current situation, of your existence, of the fact you’re sitting in that train, then that moment of eternity vanishes.

I am going back home to Manila soon.

But did I get the answers I set out to find on this trip? Did I even have questions in my head in the first place?

I had this feeling, this tiny itch in my heart, this unexplainable unnameable feeling, that I needed this trip, not because of the glamour Europe would provide in my life, but…to eat, to pray, to love, to experience these very basic longings of my soul as Elizabeth Gilbert had. As I neared 30, I needed a trip to nourish my soul, to reflect, to see things from a different point of view and to see family life through the perspective of my sister, her husband and my nephew.

I wanted to know if this family life was what I wanted for myself. I am weak, like every else, when I hear stories of my batch mates getting married and posting pictures of their kids, and I melt in my heart and secretly long and wish for the time it would be my turn. And admitting that is hard enough. I needed and wanted to find the answers for myself: Do you want to have a family? If so, start now. Do you want to stay career-focused? Move on now.

I am going back home to Manila, probably still having the same questions I had in the first place. But I know some have been answered. I cannot articulate what or which or how, but I know some things have cleared up. I knew it was time to take the next step, even if that means a leap of faith.

As this hiatus began with a decision, so must I come back to my homeland and make a decision — a choice to steer myself to more creative things in life, to keep on traveling and writing, to stay true to myself, to prepare me for the imminent decade of the 30s. It’s still a process, and forever will be a process. But I know I am farther from the place where I was two months ago. If anything, I have renewed something within, something that makes me excited now to go back home. To see home. To feel home. To experience home. Anew.

Oranjepark in autumn (Apeldoorn, Gelderland, The Netherlands), shedding leaves to make way for new ones.

*This is part of a 68-Day Travel Diary called Reflections of a Nearly Thirty. Read the full Reflections Series here.

**The Daily Post: Retrospective