I think that is one of the things I love most about travel. It is surrounding myself with the unfamiliar, finding something that I, in a way, can make my own. I have taken several trips with friends over the years, and during those times, I made memories I will never forget. I still laugh at the time my friend Carrie and I were invited to hop on the bus to some strange Welsh village "where the men are REAL men." (I believe this very hospitable man had just finished spending some time at the pub...believe it or not, we decided to head back to Cardiff as we originally planned.) My trip to Cornwall would never have even happened if my friend Lauren hadn't convinced me we needed to see if there really were pirates in Penzance. (Sadly, the closest we came was a cartoonish mural.) That was also the trip we got hopelessly lost trying to find some prehistorical donut that cures back problems if you crawl through it (Men-an-tol)--we eventually did find it, but not before we had to stare down a group of menacing looking cows in a bog.
Men-An-Tol outside of Penzance |
That probably sounds strange. Who wouldn't want to share these kind of memories so that they can be relived over and over again? For me, going off to somewhere I am a complete stranger, where I cannot even speak the language, makes me work outside my comfort zone. I can be myself in a way that I won't allow myself to be where others know me. While in my normal life, at home, at work, and with friends, I feel this need always to be competent, reliable, knowledgeable and able to do ANYTHING. There is no room for mistakes or error, and if I do screw up, it is reason to get frustrated because I have let another person down. I felt it when traveling with my friends, too--if everything didn't go smoothly, more often than not, I would somehow blame myself (like when we got lost, we should have gone straight past the caravan--trailer--instead of veering right, but that map was confusing...). And while my friends were more than gracious, I still couldn't shake the nagging feeling I disappointed.
By myself, however, there is no one to disappoint. Indeed, there is no way I can figure it all out. I must ask for help. I have to swallow my pride and speak up if something goes wrong. I cannot rely on someone else to do it for me, and I cannot just figure it out on my own. It makes me connect with the people around me in a way that I do not do here at home. And it reminds me that most people are more than happy to help. I just hate to do so.
I also find that I am more likely to engage in conversations with complete strangers. Again, something I do not do when at home. Last year while I was in Crete, I enjoyed an hour long conversation with one of the waiters at the restaurant I chose for dinner (I ate a bit earlier than most Greek people, so it was really slow at the time.) I would never consider doing that at a restaurant here, but there it seemed ok. I don't know...sometimes, I think I am a more confident, more open person when I travel alone. It is like I can check my neurosis as I leave the country. I shed the insecurities, the expectations that follow me every day, and I end up being that person who smiles to herself as she walks down the street. I like her a lot, to be honest. Hopefully, after 8 days in Europe, she will stick around awhile in Kansas City...
I'm so happy that you get to have this experience. When I was in Europe, one of my most favorite days was one I spent by myself in a small town just outside of Paris. It was so beautiful and quiet....I hope you find the same.
ReplyDeleteI still love every minute of our time in Wales. I appreciate (more than you know)your willingness to drag me around with you even with my ceaseless longing to see silly-falling-apart castles. And you never disappointed, ever. Even if you don't believe it, I know it to be true.
ReplyDeleteIt was so exhilarating to me to be able to explore some place so new, and I can't wait to do it again sometime.
And don't tell my husband, but more often than not when I think of going off and exploring a foreign country he isn't the person I travel with, you are. It's not that I don't love him or want to be with him, but you are the person who introduced me to the joys of foreign lands and I can't imagine going somewhere exotic without you.
I loved the crazy man at the bus stop, the scrounging for food in our backpacks when we didn't realize that there wouldn't be a restaurant near our hostel, the fact that a bus driver gave us a free pass of sorts because we didn't have money for a ride because we had rail passes... I loved the hikes, even the ones up steep hills in Bath while sweating buckets with my far to heavy backpack on.
Everything about that trip was amazing. And I loved every minute of it.
I am so happy that you get to continue traveling because I know it is your passion. And I am wildly jealous of your freedom to do so and your ability to become whoever you wish on your trips.
You never disappoint. All you ever do for me is inspire.