The Joy of Smaller Places

Many travellers to Europe are excited by its megacities, London and Paris. Many more still appreciate its pulsating capital cities, such as Berlin, Amsterdam and Madrid. I find that, perhaps because I spend the majority of my time in Sydney, which fits the description of 'pulsating capital city' very well, I prefer the smaller places.

Upon sharing my post 'London and Berlin' with two friends, they both had the same follow-up question: Did you enjoy them? Reader, I must confess, that I felt mostly overwhelmed there. The sights (and some aspects of daily life) were stimulating in a positive way, but, well let's take London:

Two out of three of the attractions I saw, the National Portrait Gallery and the Museum of Natural History, were uncomfortably crowded. Viewing individual displays was a matter of waiting (in the case of the Museum in a hot room), bumping into other sweaty people, and processing a lot of human-generated noise and movement. I left both of these environments earlier than I could have because I ended up overwhelmed. Even though many of the displays were fascinating, the circumstances were such that I knew I would have a better experience if I left before I was totally frayed. 

In addition, travelling from my hotel to these attractions was draining, whether I caught the underground or the bus. On the latter, somebody near me was blasting Dua Lipa interviews on their smartphone. I usually enjoy hearing her voice, but on this occasion it made my eyes water. I tried to overcome irritation and overwhelm by telling myself that I was having an English cultural experience, but it didn't work - only after 30 mins of pain did I get to remove myself from there. 

On the street, I was ever-conscious of keeping a hand draped over my cross-body bag at all times (to prevent theft), while checking out of the impulse to consult my phone, as the place was notorious for phone-snatching. This inserted an element of stress into my pace.

(I will put in a good word for Leighton House, though - the nervy 25 min walk from my hotel was made worthwhile by the rich influences from Morocco, Egypt, Syria and other Arab countries adorning the walls, and incorporated into the interior design.)

So overstimulation was a regular feature of my stay. I can say that I had an interesting experience (one worth writing about), but not much of an enjoyable one. I don't think I'll return in the near future. Perhaps when I was younger and more energetic a month-long stay in London appealed to my inner architecture, but at 41 years of age it seems like a chore or an obligation - and why do it when there are other, more pleasurable options?

And this brings me to places I know I find pleasure in, such as Coimbra and Óbidos in Portugal - a small city and a village, respectively. In Coimbra, a woman went out of her way to help me and my Mum make the most of our stay, approaching us on the street after overhearing us discussing tickets on the bus. She explained that a multi-ticket card was available from a certain kiosk which would cut down on our costs. It was very friendly of her, and the kind of warm regard for your fellow human that is more typical of slower-paced, lesser populated places.  

Meanwhile, in Óbidos, every person I passed greeted me with "Bom Día," a polite custom that applied not only to regular community members but to this foreigner, who was wearing a rainbow image on my hat. Rural homophobia? I didn't see any. (Maybe I would have found some degree of it if I had stayed longer and had deeper interactions with the locals, but on the surface, at least, everything was fine.)

I do not yet have a clear idea of where I might travel next year, but for now I will remember my own hard-earned wisdom: stay off the beaten path as much as possible. This is my personal formula for maximising travel enjoyment.