Once I read a story by Somerset Maugham about a man born in London who, in the position of a ship doctor, traveled the world. Once he has gotten off the boat in Alexandria, Egypt. To make a long story short, he quit his job and stayed in Alexandria blowing away the opportunity of a brilliant and profitable career in London. All that because he felt that Alexandria was his home.
I wonder if there is such a place on Earth, where every person can feel that he or she is indeed at home. I recall that being a couple of weeks on a European trip I felt very homesick. Coming back to the US I dived into regular daily problems like paying bills and going to work. Not that I think that home is associated with these activities, but surprisingly the feeling of homesickness disappeared.
Anyhow, it is hard to put your finger on exactly what is it your home. It is a structure where you live, a kitchen where you cook food, a bed where you sleep at night? All these objects could be changed, you can move to another city, sell and buy a new house, buy new furniture.
Even though I lived in many cities and in many houses, I never felt, similar to that doctor in Maugham’s story, that one of those places is really mine. Still, maybe I didn’t travel long and far enough and such a place exists?
