One of my fondest memories. This photo may not look like much to anyone else, and I know I look a mess, but when I see it, I am transported to that very moment.
I feel the exhaustion from the constant movement that comes with traveling between cities in a foreign country.
I feel that subtle drift between consciousness and sleep.
I feel the occasional rays of sunshine beaming down between passing clouds, and the blasts of wind from the loud passing trains.
I hear the bustling crowds waiting with us for their train out of town, as well as the cries of excitement from the passengers arriving.
I smell café food that someone purchased from a nearby trattoria, and I can almost taste the moisture in the air from Laguna Veneta, which sources the water in Venice's famous canals, and surrounds the station.
Perhaps my favorite part about this photo is that, despite having to brave the challenges that come with traveling alongside me, in a place wildly unfamiliar to me, while patiently accepting my intense determination to explore every inch of every city thoroughly (even when it was more than my body could handle), I can feel his loving gaze on me as he takes this photo of us in the last moments of our journey.
Some unsolicited advice:
If you think you're in love with someone, travel with them to a foreign country for at least two weeks. Study how they interact with strangers from other cultures, learn how they handle budgets, delays, exhaustion, language barriers, vulnerability, and difficult situations, and in the end, if you love them even more, keep going...