A Case Study

I had the opportunity to go away recently. It was a fantastic break in Germany visiting my sister and M with equal opportunity to have amazing company or to have solitary ‘me-time’. It wasn’t until nearly the end of my time there that it suddenly became clear to me how much I’d needed it. It was a bit of a brutal reminder of how far you can push yourself without really understanding anything is wrong.


It should be relaxing and comforting to stay in your own environs after change, carrying on as normal with regime guiding the daily passage from waking to sleeping, eating to working, or bathing to bimbling. But it’s not. Familiarity breeds contempt; and in a most insidious way. It’s like holding your breath - initially relaxing and calming but, before you recognise it, a feeling of panic starts to rise from within. “Forgetting to breathe whilst letting your roots rot” would describe it well (I took a cement mixer to that metaphor and I’m proud of it!).


The recovery from this languid malaise started in earnest with the purchase of a new suitcase. Simple, you might say – but one of the most cathartic things I have done in a long time. An unsullied container in which to put my life - a new friend with whom to explore the world - a virgin transporter of my dreams with no labels yet attached. In short: baggage without baggage.


So, the adventure was on and preparations continued apace. Clothes freshly washed, passport dusted off, five packets of chilli con carne spice mix for my sister safely stowed. On placing things in the case on the eve of departure it seemed that, yes, the denims still had their odd fray and thin patch but they were crisp, clean and going to a new place in a new way. Even removing a toothbrush from its holder in my bathroom and packing it for travel suddenly felt like a pilot’s pre-flight checks. When the “little things” in life become that important, you’ve probably already lost sight of the “big things”.



The next day the case’s handle was adorned by its first flight label - Frankfurt Airport; it was to be a new experience for both of us. As holidays go I could not have asked for more with many new friends made and acquaintances’ conversation dallied with. I even have a new travelling companion, Cosmo the Graph (giraffe. See fig. 1), who I accidentally met at a till in a toy shop. Over the next few days Cosmo and I wined, dined, gawped, photographed, shivered, melted, laughed (well I did) and cried (well I did) in Freiburg; one of the most beautiful cities I know.


The stay was incredible. If you asked me what I did, I probably couldn’t tell you. I planned nothing and just let my stream find the path of least resistance. The night before I left I broke down in tears. This was swiftly stemmed by a few well-aimed cuddles from Sis & M, but it was not for a wish not to leave, not for tiredness, and certainly not for the extra couple of Weißbiers I’d crammed into my final afternoon! It was because my body had finally accepted the change and rest that it had been craving for too long. It was simply a release.


On arrival back at Birmingham International Airport after an ‘interesting’ journey, I was collared by a pollster from The Office for National Statistics. As his questions rolled on interminably I could fleetingly see my luggage out of the corner of my eye. Eventually I cut him off, ran, and rescued my suitcase from the eternal luggage carousel. It felt like I was only returning a favour.