Why I don’t compare.

When I travel, I try to resist the urge to compare one location to another.

Yes, I know that there are some facilities or infrastructure that needs to be further developed. But there is no point comparing the botanical gardens / central park of Cluj-Napoca to Regent’s Park in London. There is no point comparing the walkways to the beach in Mangalia to Ibiza.

Each place has its own history.

Sometimes, my mind automatically wants to compare details. Like, “this cobble stones reminds me of the Distillery District in Toronto which further reminds me of The Rocks in Sydney“.
There is no point doing that type of comparison.

The only time where I could ‘allow’ myself to compare is if I am trying to compare one location to this abstract that I would call ‘home’.
In this case, home is not necessarily a certain street or city or country. It is more abstract. For example, when I went to the Jazz in the Park in Cluj-Napoca, it reminded me a lot of the open-air music festivals that I would go to back when I was living in Brisbane.  So for me, when I am enjoying a music festival in Romania and it reminds me of the times I had with my friends in Australia, I am transported back to those times.  And, I actually feel quiet happy about those times.