Sundays are supposed to be a day of blissful rest, no? For some reason, even though Casey and I are jobless and without any specific place we have to be at any given time (except when we need to catch a flight), we have found that we still need those days of rest. Traveling can take a lot out of a person, and constantly packing our bags, trying to think one day ahead to figure out where you’ll sleep, what you’ll see, how to get internet, wash your clothes, store your luggage, find clean and drinkable water, obtain local currency in cash (when your bank limits your daily withdraws), and communicate with the people around you who often don’t speak your language. Sigh… There seems to be a constant underlying feeling of stress we carry and it can get tiring to say the least. Believe it or not, one of the most difficult parts of this trip has been resting. One, to give ourselves the grace to stop trying to see everything in whichever country or city we are visiting, and two, to find our own space where we can really stop and relax.
Sundays are our day of rest back home. We sleep in, walk down to Farley’s (our neighborhood coffeehouse) to get our hot chocolate and egg-bagel, go to church, grab a late lunch and spend the afternoon at home resting, taking a long walk in our hood or watching a movie and making dinner. When Casey finally moved back to the City this past year, I was in the midst of heavy training for my triathlons at the time, but I made a very specific effort to reserve Sunday’s for rest. For this I am grateful, because it became one of the few constants in our fairly busy lives, and became somewhat of a sacred morning and routine that we came to love. We miss this.
So when our Sunday in Sydney came about, we decided to stop. To rest. We had a nice hotel; the same hotel; for 3 blissful nights. A space of our own for what had become an extended amount of time – anything over two nights has become “extended” for us. When we first arrived I quickly unpacked every single item of my suitcase, putting away clothes in drawers, hanging them on hangers and setting out my toothbrush and toiletries in the bathroom like I owned the place. Now mind you, we only had four days in Australia – an unexpected and extended lay-over to a continent that was not on our original itinerary but we happily took advantage of – of which to see what we could. There was much to do and see in Sydney and beyond, but on this Sunday we decided to rest.
We slept in late (mmmm). Then lay around (in bed) for another solid hour before considering getting up. We watched TV from bed – a no-no in our household – then moseyed up to the gym and worked out. Took a long shower. Ate in. Watched the news. Checked our emails. Left our clothes on the floor. Giggled. Lay back in bed. It was crazy nice. The best part? We didn’t leave our hotel until 3 p.m.! We then took a long walk down to the water, had lunch overlooking the infamous Sydney Operahouse, hit the Museum of Contemporary Art for quick look and then went to the Aquarium to see Australian crocodiles and sharks. Home early enough to plop ourselves in front of the TV (yes, again) to watch a movie. Sundays in our household. Much needed.