Awe. That’s the feeling as I read Nick’s incredible odyssey. I’ve been to all these places, marvelled at these amazing sights, eaten that incredible food (and got as sick). I’ve witnessed firsthand the kindness of Indian strangers. But I did it with the company of friends, with a lifetime’s accumulation of resources, and—most of all—without a wheelchair. Nick’s demand to fully experience life is both humbling and exhilarating.
A reminder of what it means to actively live your life.
“Just let me know when you’ve arrived…” Those words are spoken, in the most casual manner possible, by every parent when one of their offspring goes off on an adventure. The apparent nonchalance masks all sorts of worry, panic, imagined scenarios and disasters, even though you know they are no more than chimera.
He’d booked everything at budget prices, so there was no direct flight. At stopover of five hours in Muscat would not allow him to see anything of the place and just added to the fatigue of the journey. But, when you know they have landed in foreign climes, (because you are watching the live flight updates, and they are now running nearly a further six hours late) and the phone remains silent for an eternity, the real panic sets in. Especially when said offspring is travelling with a wheelchair.
By the time you actually hear from…
View original post 820 more words
Sue Vincent said:
Thank you for sharing, barb…and for your advice too! I really appreciated it.