School trips!

I haven't been on an overnight trip - even a short one - in really, really long. Ever since I started college, in fact. And now, college is over and I work, which doesn't leave room for a getaway for quite some time more.
I've always loved travelling - whether it be by road, rail or air - and it doesn't really matter where I go; all I care about is getting away from routine life for a while and enjoying the change of scene.
I've had the good fortune to visit quite a few places (though not half as many as I still hope to!) but the ones I'd say were the 'best' of all are definitely those low-key, two-nights-three-days sojourns we would go on from school.
The first such trip I went on was way back when I was a ten/eleven-year-old fifth grader. It was a class trip to the national park in the little Kenyan town of Nakuru. We stayed at a lodge, 3 people per room, and although I don't have any photos of that trip and my memory is quite hazy, I do remember that it had been great!
The next year, I went on my maiden camping trip to the renowned Maasai Mara game reserve, followed by Tsavo National Park. Later, in year 12, I went on the last school trip of my life to the town of Nanyuki. It was a Biology field trip and we had quite a bit of work to do there (which wasn't particularly interesting at that - it involved counting creepy crawlies or something, if I remember correctly) but still, it's one of my fondest memories of the good ol' school days.
The trips I loved (and now miss) most were the ones to national parks. The excitment would began right from the day I'd get Dad to sign the little permission slip and would steadily build up as the day of departure drew closer. When it would finally dawn, my eyes would magicaly flit open even before the alarm clock went off and I'd be ready way before it was time to leave home.
It would usually be afternoon by the time we reached, after a long bus ride that would pass in a blur of noisy chatter and raucous laughter and delicious junk food and endless rounds of games like 'I spy..' and Antakshari.
We'd just look around the campsite (or lodge) and hang out until it was time for the evening game drive.
The sky would turn a wondrous pink-orange as the sun dipped away and the smells and sounds of nature made the night come alive. The cool breeze would carry the heady bouquet of grass and wild flowers and the myriad click-clack of the diverse insect life and eerie howling of hyenas in the distance. Dinner would be served under the stars amid more conversation and laughter, followed by a bonfire gathering, where we'd exchange ghost stories and try to spook each other out. (Which never really happened, but was awesome fun nonetheless.) We'd then retreat in our little groups to our tents and spend a couple hours exchanging gossip or playing cards by torchlight, before finally dropping off, only to excitedly awake a while later for the crack-of-dawn game drive.
The sprawling acres of green-brown wild grass would turn into a stage under the golden light of the first glorious rays of sunshine. A stage that would host nature's grand contest of the survival of the fittest, turning the phenomenon of life - and death - in the wild into an awesome spectacle for the many prying eyes of visitors like us to witness. We would take it all in in silent amazement, binoculars glued to our eyes, cameras clicking away: the ferocious might and swift agility of felines on the prowl, the quick reflexes of their cautious prey, the bloody kills and the voracious feasting that would follow. If not a hunt, we would at the very least, spot a lion or two and - most definitely - herds and herds of zebra or gazelles or blackbuck and majestic elephants and rhinos. The images would be captured forever on the everlasting film of our minds, with a background score consisting of our own comments, conversations, exchanges.
They have blurred into each other, all these school trip memories, lost some of their colour and texture and detail, but what remains - and will always remain - vivid, is how special they were. Even if they feature people I've long lost touch with, people I will probably never even see again, they are prized souvenirs from my childhood and teenage.
It's amazing how our memories connect us to certain people for life. Even when they become mere names and faces we used to know once, a long time ago, somehow, they always remain with. Just the way we knew them to be.