There are different types of memories, and I don't just mean the categories listed above. What I mean is there are memories where we can recall specific sequences of events. We remember it like a story. And then there are memories where we can recall how we felt, or the emotional state we had when we were experiencing it firsthand. Of course, I think the best memories are combinations of the two (unless of course there were painful emotions involved).
All this talk of memories was prompted by a relatively simple entry that my friend Steve posted on his blog. His family is taking a week-long vacation in a cabin in the mountains of Scotland. When I read his blog and looked at the picture, for some reason an incredibly strong memory from when we spent 3 weeks in Scotland came to mind. I don't know exactly why this memory came to me, but it was so vivid, I practically felt like I was there. Not literally, mind you, but the emotions, the feelings felt at that particular moment during my trip 5 years ago felt as fresh as if they had just happened.
The memory that came to me was when we stayed at a youth hostel in Cannich, about half an hour's drive from Loch Ness. The youth hostel was not exactly in the mountains, not exactly in the woods, but definitely a rural setting. There was a campground nearby, and a playground. The specific memory was when we were walking from the hostel, or maybe the playground, to a little convenience store nearby to get some breakfast items. I think. When I type it, it sounds completely unremarkable. I don't even have all the details. But that wasn't the power of the memory. I could feel it as if I was right there. Like a state of mind rather than a state of activity. Now that I am trying, I realize it's hard to describe. And not only does the way I felt emotionally come back to me, but other sensory things too: the cool crispness of the air, the little bags of crisps which were a staple of our inexpensive homemade lunches, the clean "Britishness" of everything.
At any rate, when I get a memory like that, it often makes me extremely wistful to be in that place again. Perhaps that's one of the negative parts of traveling...you often long to be somewhere else. I remember once getting the same yearning for Costa Rica from memories induced by, of all things, diesel fumes (not a surprise, though, since they say our sense of smell is the sense most connected to memory).
Using Google images, this is, I think, the hostel we stayed in. Not an attractive shot, but that's irrelevant. It's what's in my head that's so valuable.
If you want to see Steve's post about his upcoming vacation, there's a link to his blog on the right.
6 comments:
Our scenses are an amazing thing. Most often it is smells that trigger memories for me. It is a very strange sensation usually. So I totally understand where you are coming from. Great post by the way. M
I can just think about honeysuckles and I can smell them and the memory of your dad and I riding his Pacific Coast across country comes on strong.
Yes, memories are triggered by many things for me but then I have had many more years of memory to recall than you. I can still smell jasmine and roses and go back to Haifa all over again in memory.
Garlic makes me think of Israel. Although I rarely smell it the way I could there.
I totally hear you bud. I have similarly fond memories of our trip to see you guys in Phoenix, Dom in LA and our road trip.
Cannich, I remember also. My memory is of us all huddled around your laptop watching Spy Kids, or Spy Kids 2 or 3...whichever one it was. And the bunk beds, and cups of tea. And I remember the cabin we stayed in near Oban. Partly because the 'beds' were so darned uncomfortable - I remember I had a pretty rotten night's sleep. But I also remember me and you taking the car out to pick up a Chinese take away dinner for everyone, and stopping off to look out over the harbour as the sun was setting on the way back. You seemed to take a moment to let it all sink in. Meanwhile of course the dinner was getting cold! But who cares.
I also remember sleeping in your cottage in my sleeping bag and it being so cold one night I had to wear a hat to keep warm enough. And it was June! Good times.
Yeah, that cottage was cold alright. I think that's before Bran had heating put in? Even then, it was a big space to heat and through the night it would get pretty cold. I didn't realize that you had to wear a hat though! I guess I was a bit more used to it. But if you think that was bad, imagine what it was like when I moved in the December before you visited. Now that, my friend, was chilly. So cold sometimes I thought my eyes were freezing over. I kid you not.
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