More than a year ago now myself and (my good friend from Uni) Luke drove around Central Europe for a couple of weeks in my Mum's long-suffering Vauxhall Astra. On most days of our journey we used Luke's laptop to write a short journal of what had occurred; how many miles we'd done, where we were at the time of writing, and what song was on the stereo - if anything. We had both just completed our Journalism degrees at Southampton Solent University, although I will refrain - at this point - from calling us graduates, as our Uni had the backward tendency to do things in an 'alternate' manner, thus we didn't get our results until many other people who completed courses in 2007 had already graduated. Anyway, as a result of completing said course our musings tended to occupy the more flowery-side of the writing-in-a-flowery-manner spectrum - if you know what I mean, and reading our journal back in recent times always causes me a laugh or two.
Certain things that happened over the course of our journey from Portsmouth on England's south coast, to Rauris in the Austrian Alps would probably no longer be with us in memory now, if it wasn't for our blog. Writing with events fresh in your mind always helps with detail, as over time memories fade, stories are obscured, and as a result trying to record things in an accurate manner would be difficult.
Thinking back to the times we had, and being able to read about specific conversations that would otherwise have dulled into nothingness now makes that small effort back then so worth it now. The same goes for photographs. Anyone who knows me will know that I spend far far too long taking photographs, and I also over-use (and mis-use) the term "arrogant" when describing them. However I feel that in this digital-age, where memory cards will hold over 500 multi-million megapixel photos at 2256x1496 resolution, it's not unjustifiable to take a picture of absolutely everything. Photos jog your memory, as do words, and so when you see that shot of the time you passed out in the a car outside a youth hostel in Salzburg, or when you randomly spent a day aimlessly wandering the chaotic streets of Casablanca due to a botched transit flight, it brings a smile.
Mine and Luke's journal isn't online, and so it's only us who actually gets to read it, but at least it exists, so in years to come we can both dig it out and re-live past joys. We also took 592 photos of our experiences, and some video footage too, so the time I jumped into the freezing depths of Lake Königssee in Bavaria, whilst wearing nothing but my boxers will be always there in all its glory.
I also wrote about my experiences in Ghana. The West African nation is a place I decided to go many years ago now. I remember clear as day walking into my Uni housemates room in what would have been January 2006, seeing on the TV the African Cup of Nations being played out in Egypt and thinking "I could go to that". The next one was being hosted by Ghana, in January and February of 2008. At that moment I made a decision, and although didn't do much about it until summer 2007, always had it in the back of my mind that I would go. 2008 came around, and in the preceding months I'd contacted a number of people in Ghana, mainly due to a family friend, who is also my Doctor, Paul, being part of a Christian missionary project over there. He put me in touch with Paul Sefa, a Ghanaian chap who also part of the project, and a great friend of Dr. Paul, who helped me out so much during mine and my friend Katherine's trip over, and he also became a great friend of us both. He served to guide us around his country, was kind enough to let us stay at his house, made sure we got tickets to see some of the games, and was hooked-up enough to ensure we got to meet the Ghanaian national football team in their hotel. He also went to the lengths of picking us up from Kotoka International Airport in Ghana's capital Accra at 5am, after our flights were delayed, leaving us stranded in Morocco for 24 hours. All-in-all our experiences were so special, a huge part of that being down to Paul, and I made sure I kept a diary of what we did every day.
Upon arrival back in the UK I made a conscious effort to write the diary up into article form. It took a few hours - time I could have spent doing hundreds of other things, but reading that back now makes it so worthwhile. It's online now, located at the website I made but never bothered updating, as well as on my Facebook notes, but at least it is there, and so the memories will last.
All-in-all I think keeping a Blog of your experiences is important, especially when doing something like travelling. It's not just for others to read, as in all probability hardly anyone - aside from close friends and family, will read it, but it is great to be able to look back on what you've done and smile. I only wish I'd written about everything now.
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