Travel, I have come to realise, is anything but glamorous. Unless you’re lucky enough to be a part of the 1%, the reality is that when you travel you do so in a world of mixed modes of travel, running between each like a maniac, wielding a 23 kilo suitcase like a deadly weapon, and sweating up a storm all the while. And the is no glamour in your travel, or mine for that matter. If anyone ever tells you that they enjoy travel, as in the act of getting from A to B, accept that they are actually insane and move on. Travel is horrible. Travel is painful. Travel is ugly.
Today saw us travel from Nagasaki to Kyoto. It too one tram, three trains, one bus and one car to get us to travel from Point A to Point B. And this is what I wore because I am a masochist:
hand-stitched nautical print silk scarf – Bally, thrifted
navy wool stretch blazer with ribbed texture – Travel Jacket, thriifted
royal blue heathered tank-top – Divided by H&M
navy and white cotton belt – Sportscraft
dark navy coated denim jeans – ASOS
navy and white Roshe Runs – Nike