The Meaning of Travelling | Mark Lee

Chapter 1: The Story Begins Here

Travel is like an escape from the hustle of everyday life, offering a moment to breathe. The landscapes you see and the people you meet during your journeys—some of them fade from memory over time, some merely become stamps in your passport, symbols of having reached a certain place, and others leave a deep mark, becoming part of your character and actions.

The excitement of travel lies in its unpredictability. What awaits you? Is it the endless delicacies, getting lost in unfamiliar streets, or perhaps a chance encounter? Go out there, experience it, and savor every moment.

At Narita Airport in Japan, planes were taking off and landing. Some travelers moved briskly, gearing up for exhausting business trips, while others strolled leisurely, filled with dreams of the unknown. You had just stepped off the plane, dragging your luggage through the vast terminal, navigating by recognizing a few familiar characters in Japanese signs, and finally found the taxi stand.

You handed the driver a note with the name of your hotel written in advance. The driver, seemingly accustomed to seeing international travelers, showed no curiosity toward you, an outsider, as he drove on without a word. Sitting in the backseat, you leaned against the window, taking in the foreign scenery, just like anyone arriving in this country for the first time.

Growing up watching Japanese anime, you had always been fascinated by this country. Would there be ninjas darting between skyscrapers at midnight? Could you have your own Pokémon? Maybe Conan was solving a case in some hidden corner... After starting work, though, for one reason or another, you would always hesitate and close the ticket-booking website. Left to daydream over a map, you could only imagine what it would be like.

The reason for this trip? Funny, really. Your long-term boyfriend and you, together since your university days, couldn't make it past the seven-year itch. You parted amicably—no endless arguments, no resentment, just a matter of timing. They say travel is a good cure for heartache, and even though you split peacefully, getting used to being alone again wasn't something you could just switch on or off. So you finally made up your mind—booked your tickets, hotels, and researched everything you needed to know, and here you were in Japan.

As someone without much travel experience, you followed the guidebook like a good tourist, visiting Tokyo's attractions, eating the sukiyaki you had long craved, and drinking the famous Asahi beer. Like every traveler, you checked off locations, snapped pictures, and posted them on social media. But you had to admit, after a few days in Tokyo, your legs were sore and swollen, though your heart wasn't exactly entertained. Despite not joining a tour group, wandering aimlessly through sights without any real emotional engagement was exhausting in its own way. You returned to your small, one-person hotel room after dusk, feeling lonelier than ever.

With some spare time on your hands, you opened your long-neglected Instagram and scrolled through posts from people who were also in Tokyo. That's when you found out that last year, a blogger had also traveled solo to Tokyo. But how did they make their solo trip look so enjoyable? You wondered, clicking on their profile. The person's username was REM, and they were around your age, wearing thin-rimmed glasses that made them look both mature and playful.

Oh, "Rapid Eye Movement," you thought, feeling a small surge of pride at your own cultural knowledge, and continued scrolling through their feed. Where had they gone after Tokyo? Kyoto. One photo stood out—it showed a hand holding matcha ice cream, the wrist adorned with a black bracelet. The hand was strikingly beautiful, with well-defined knuckles and veins like rivers. You swore, you had never seen such an elegant hand before. There was no caption, just a location tag: Kinkaku-ji.

Kinkaku-ji... The name sounded faintly familiar, though you struggled to remember where you had heard it. "The Temple of the Golden Pavilion," Mishima Yukio's famous novel. In the story, a young man named Mizoguchi, who grew up in poverty, enters the temple as a monk and becomes obsessed with the beauty of the pavilion, fantasizing about burning it down to achieve a grand spectacle. However, the end of the war crushes this dream, and in despair, he eventually sets fire to the temple.

Staring at the tempting matcha ice cream in the photo and retrieving your fragmented memories of Kyoto, you impulsively decided to cancel the rest of your Tokyo plans and booked a Shinkansen ticket to Kyoto instead.

Ding. After completing all the arrangements, you lay contentedly on the bed. Your phone, tossed beside you, chimed with a notification. You opened it to see that REM, the blogger you had just followed, had posted a new update on Instagram. The photo was of a clear glass of alcohol, shining in the dim light, with a location tag of Kyoto.

You suddenly sat up, feeling a growing sense of anticipation for what lay ahead. You had a gut feeling—the real journey was about to begin.