The Way Home

"Once you have traveled the voyage never ends, but is played out over and over again in the quietest chambers, that the mind can never break off from the journey."

Pat Conroy, The Prince of Tides

Even the longest journey comes to an end some day and so did mine last week. I had feared the moment of my return home ever since I booked the last flight of my trip, €79 that set the definitive end of my adventure to December the 22nd. The uncertainty about the future, knowing where I'm gonna sleep tonight, the buildings blocking the sunsets, the city lights cancelling out the stars... could I adapt to my zoo cage again?

It is in situations like this when one understands the value of good friends. During my last days on the road I floated down on a continuous stream of old friends that accompanied me all the way to my old home's doorstep. They turned a melancholic end into a promising start (to my new life) difficult to forget.

London
As if trying to draw a perfectly symmetrical end to my round the world trip, a white carpet of snow welcomed me to Heathrow airport. Also like in February, a comfortable couch was waiting for me. This time it was Geraldine's stylish sofa, which happened to be housed in the very same student dormitory where I spent my first night outside Spain ten months earlier. Geraldine (2?, French) was my dive buddie in the Perhentian islands. With her and some friends I walked the streets of London one more time. No need for a map, by now I master the ABC of London's city centre like my own neighbourhood. Candem town, Oxford street, Hyde Park, Buckingham Palace, Westminster, the London Eye, Piccadilly Circus... all where I left them but nicely decorated for the occasion. Minutes after saying goodbye to Geraldine at St. Pancrass station I run into David (24, Spanish) - an old friend from my years as a student in Pamplona. He was too flying home for Christmas and guess what, he was scheduled on the very same flight leaving London Stansted the next morning. Due to the bad weather the two of us had to wait 6 hours more than expected before our plane finally took off. My last flight, the 13th of the year.

Madrid
Still in shock to read and hear Spanish all around me, I said goodbye to David who got off the underground train in Pinar del Rio. Three stations later one of my best friends -Eli (26, Spanish)- was waiting for me. My big hug with Eli was the first of a long series still going. Speaking of reunions, it was time for one of the most awaited: real Spanish food! Eli, Albert, Rosa and Alberto took me to one the thousands of tapas bars that make Madrid one of my favourite capitals in Europe. This was working, no evidence of melancholy.

Vitoria-Gasteiz
I contained my emotions -a strange mix of excitement and melancholy- as I contemplated the procession of traffic signs showing the countdown of kilometers to my hometown. Flashes of my journey struck my mind; places, people, sounds... they've become an essential part of my memories. At last the bus came to a final halt. 10 months -322 days- later I was in Vitoria again. Luckily my brother's clinic lies within minutes from the station, otherwise I wouldn't have made it through without tears. He got another hug, a big one. He was one of the very few people who knew of my return, a loyal accomplice to my mum's birthday surprise.

I had run the plan a thousand times in my mind and now it was time to carry it out. I left my brother and walked through the old town of Gasteiz. I stopped to buy a bunch of flowers. In 15 minutes I arrived to the block of apartments that I used to call home and rang the neighbour's bell to get in the building. Climbed the stairs, shook the dust off my worn out clothes and got ready to ring the door's bell. I rang it and waited for the door to open. And I waited... 5 seconds, 10 seconds, 20 seconds, 30 seconds... then I rang again. I couldn't believe it. In one of the meanest jokes that destiny has known I had traveled the world only to discover that nobody would open the door of my old home. My plan had failed, what now? shall I just walk the entire globe again? I pulled out my cellphone and dialed my parents' number:

- Hello
- Mum, is this you?
- Of course is me, who else on earth could it be?
- Oh, ah, oh, ummmm... happy birthday!
- Iñaki, where are you?
- I just came back from a trip to a national park near here, in Los Angeles, California.
- How are things going?
- Well, I don't know, my travel mates just left me, they're gonna spend Christmas at home...
(meanwhile I rang the door bell persistently)
- Hold on Iñaki, some jerk is ringing the bell and I have to open...

I guess you can figure out the rest of the story yourselves. Yes, my mum got another big hug, probably the biggest. My father followed right after and in the following 48 hours the process repeated over and over among friends and relatives. End of the Diversion, I'm home!

Interesting things that I've learnt:

• Candem Town Market in north London -soon to be renamed as Mercado de Candemería due to the ridiculous amount of Spanish visitors- has been tastefully rebuilt after the fire to become the greatest bargain market in London. If you haven't been there in the last 12 months consider it a must in your visit to the UK's capital.
• In their attempt to remain low-cost, some airlines are taking extreme measures difficult to believe. To paying €15 to print your bording card at the airport and €40 if your belongins do not fit in a single bag we can add €0.50 each time a passenger must weight his luggage prior check-in. Hilarious!
• Having been to New York, London and Madrid the week before Christmas; my personal choice regarding Christmas decoration is Spain's capital.
• Do not try to surprise your mother. Recent studies have showed that mothers have developed a special ability to foresee surprises - let alone lies, drunkness and bad decissions. Believe me, don't waste your time!

PS: This is not the last post of this blog. In the following weeks I'll publish new posts about the overall experience, the Tops of the Diversion, How to: Organise Your Round the World Trip and more.

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Todo viaje llega a su fin, y el mio no podía ser la excepción. La semana pasada puse pie en Vitoria tras casi once meses recorriendo el mundo. Una última etapa llena de emociones y sorpresas en el que el protagonismo se lo llevaron mis amigos y, como no podía ser de otra manera en estas fechas, mi sufrida familia.

Primera parada: Londres. Como si se tratase de una pelicula proyectada marcha atrás, mi llegada a Londres fue precedida de una nevada intensa, exactamente igual a la que cayó dias antes de comenzar este largo viaje. Como entonces, un sofá amigo aguardaba mi visita. Esta vez fue mi amiga Geraldine la que me ofreció cobijo en -mira tú por donde- la misma residencia de estudiantes donde mi amigo Chiew Kit me habia albergado meses atrás. Con Geraldine y sus amigos recorrí las calles de Londres una vez más. Sin necesidad de planos ni mapas volví a visitar los mismos edificios que meses atrás habia fotografíado, eso si, sin luces de navidad. Minutos después dejar a Geraldine en la estacion de St Pancrass dirección Paris voy y me encuentro -por pura casualidad- con David. David es un viejo conocido de mis años de estudiante en Pamplona que -cosas del destino- volvia a casa por navidad al día siguiente en el mismo vuelo. Él y yo nos comimos con patatas las 6 horas de retraso por el cierre de Barajas.

Ya en España despedí a David en la estación de Pinar del Río y tres estaciones más tarde una de mis mejores amigas, Eli, me esperaba en el adén. Primer abrazo de una serie que todavía hoy sigue su curso y una gran alegría por el reencuentro. Y hablando de reencuentros horas mas tarde llegó uno muy esperado: ¡la comida española! Eli, Albert, Rosa y Alberto me llevaron de tapas dejandome muy claro por que Madrid es una de mis capitales preferidas de toda Europa.

Con la resaca del reencuentro me monté en el último autobus que habría de llevarme hasta mi amada Vitoria. Los carteles de la autovía marcaban la cuenta atrás mientras mi cabeza se llenaba de caras, nombres, lugares y sonidos que formarán parte esencial de mi memoria para el resto de mi vida. Y así, casi sin darme cuenta, el conductor anunciaba la llegada a Vitoria. No me lo podía creer, 322 días después mis malogradas botas hacian pie en la misma estación. Como quien vuelve de un día en la montaña cogí mi mochila y puse rumbo a la clinica de mi hermano. Mi hermano se llevo el segundo abrazo de la serie, uno gordo pues era él uno de los pocos que sabían de mi llegada. Él era mi cómplice para la sorpresa de cumpleaños que la había preparado a mi madre. El plan estaba perfectamente estudiado, lo habia simulado en mi mente mil y una veces. Era por fín la hora de ejecutarlo. Despedí a mi hermano y puse rumbo a casa. Las calles de Vitoria lucían como de costumbre, mojadas por la lluvia y en obras. Tras una parada en la floristería por fín llegué al portal. Un vecino me dió acceso al edificio. Subí las escaleras, me adecenté lo que pude en el descansillo y con mochila y ramo en mano me dirigí a la puerta de lo que solía llamar 'mi casa'. Pero como todo en esta vida -especialmente cuando se trata de sorprender a una madre- las cosas no siempre salen según lo planeado. Mi primera llamada al timbre de casa no resultó como esperaba. Minuto y medio después y tras una segunda llamada entendí que el destino me quería gastar una última broma. ¡Tiene c*jones, date la vuelta al mundo para volver a casa y ver que no hay nadie para abrirte la puerta!
Me tocaba improvisar. Saqué el móvil y marqué el número de casa. Sorpesa, mi madre cogió el teléfono:

- ¿Dígame?
- ¡Felicidades mamá!
- ¿Dónde estás?
- Pues nada, que acabo de volver de una excursión a un parque nacional aquí, en California.
(mientras tanto hago sonar el timbre de casa)
- Oye Iñaki, espera un momento que hay algún pesado llamando a la puerta y tengo que abir.

Supongo que el resto de la historia os la podeís imaginar vosotros solitos. Pues si, más abrazos. Primero mi madre, luego mi padre, horas más tarde mis amigos, luego el turrón que vuelve a casa por Navidad con mis tíos, abuela, etc... En fín, que por fín estoy en casa.