Inga M. Beck

As much as I love traveling, seeing new places and meeting interesting people I am not overly fond of leaving my own home. I like staying in one place, taking in the life around me in little bits at a time, not rushing into things. Some say it’s best to live fast because life is short. I don’t agree, Because life is short I want to give myself time to enjoy it calmly. And I do. So how,you may wonder, do I consider myself to be living my life if I dont like to leave home? It’s simple. For me home is not just one place. Home is where ever I can feel at ease over a given (more than two weeks) period of time. For example I have spent the last four and a half weeks in the countryside at a friends farm where I help the family out as much as I can and in between I use my time for writing and translating. And it feels like home. In fact I love it so much that I feel no need to actually go back to my legal residence in the city. Frankly if it wasn’t for all my friends there that I love so much (and if I could stay here as long as I wanted) I wouldn’t go back at all. And that is the trick. When I travel, I like to stay so long in each place as to make it feel like it is my real home. That I am part of it and not just a visitor. I like to feel useful and welcome, instead of just someone who will pass through and never be seen or heard from again.
This way of travel is not easy, not just because it’s difficult to find the time and money, but because the stay always reaches an end. The place that you have started to think of as a home is not yours to enjoy any longer and the people who come with it may disappear from your life. But it fills your heart and it is much more valuable than a short weekend spent running between museums or frolicking on the beach. Especially, I think, for a writer because it helps you feel at ease. At least this works for me.