#1 Backpack through Europe for at least three months.
Writing something down next to number one on your bucket list can be daunting. It’s the one item others are guaranteed to read and it just sits there like a sore thumb waiting to be bandaged.
It has to be something big. Something worth kicking off a list of life goals. Something that, when crossed off, will be impressive.
When I first started my list, officially on January 1, 2009, i added “backpack through Europe for at least three months” as my number one goal.
I’ll tell you a secret. When I first added it I originally had it as 6 months or 9 months. Some number that I thought was impossibly long so I quickly changed it to a manageable 3. But even that 3 seemed impossible. In order for me to ever do that I’d have to save a lot of money. I’d have to quit my job. I’d have to travel for four times longer than I’d ever traveled before. Besides, backpacking was something for people in their early twenties. People in high school or college or just out of college. And definitely not for someone like me.
As much as I wanted to do it, logistically, it seemed impossible.
And then I decided to make it possible. And in February of this year I bought my one way ticket to Berlin and told my boss that I would be leaving in June.
I’ll be the first to admit that this trip didn’t start off well. I had set myself up for failure before I even got on the airplane. I was scared. I was sad to be leaving everything I ever knew behind. I was stepping way out of any comfort zone I ever had. I wasn’t sure if this was really something I wanted to do anymore. I was going to Crate and Barrel and picking out couches.
There wasn’t a day in my first five weeks in Europe that I didn’t cry, that I didn’t want to give up and buy a return ticket home. Everything was hard. And I was lonely and not bonding with people. And I just wanted to take the rest of my money and go buy a condo.
Three weeks in I convinced myself that I just had to make it three months. Then this trip wouldn’t be a failure. Then I could cross the number one thing off my bucket list. Then I could justify giving up my apartment and job. Then I could go home.
And then, after five weeks of traveling, I got to Spain. And something clicked.
Everything was still hard. I still got lost trying to find my hostel. I was still sick. I couldn’t understand when the lady at the supermarket was asking if I needed a bag. I was sold a train ticket to the wrong city on the wrong day. I was still alone.
But I was still there. I found my way to the hostel. I got the correct train ticket. I forced myself into the heat of Sevilla even though I could still hardly breathe.
It’s so easy to concentrate on how hard something was to get through. And so hard to remember that I got through it in one piece and probably, all the stronger for it.
On Sunday, after a month in Barcelona, after two months in Spain, after three months in Europe, I boarded a plane.
My three month goal is past me and I now have no intention of stopping any time soon. I plan to spend about the next four weeks in Turkey. And then another four months or so in Southeast Asia. And then, if things work out, a few months in India with Jaime and Jess and Dani. And, if they don’t, maybe the UK or Australia. And after that, I plan to return to America. Not to stop traveling, but to continue on a Great American Road Trip through the summer.
I’m happy that I changed my goal from 9 or 6 months to 3. Not because I don’t think I could have done it. Believe me, I never wanted to leave Spain. But because Europe is just one part of the world. And I’m ready to take on the rest and keep ticking off 999 more things.
p.s. Life can’t possibly be bad when this is the view I have while writing this post.
p.p.s. I thought I’d also share a wrap up of some of the highlights of my trip thus far…
I had to kick off my ’round the world trip at one of my favorite events of the year: the July 4 hot dog eating contest. Extra bonus that that night Joey Chestnut told me he doesn’t hate me. Extra extra bonus that the awesome Rob and Amber took me in for a few days.
I was proud of myself that I was even able to get to Poland, I was still having a hard time, but had one night of clarity in Warsaw. Of course, then I had a bitch of a time getting to Krakow and some really hard days. So hard that I decided to scrap my plans to go to Budapest. Krakow wasn’t all bad though, Auschwitz-Birkenau was a powerful experience and it was a pretty gorgeous town.
From Krakow, I took a flight to Brussels where I met up with Jaime for the first time! While I was still having a hard time, it was nice to have a friend. We next headed to Bruges, which was a truly beautiful place.
Sevilla was also where I had my turning point and decided that I never want to go home.
In Valencia I had one of the weirdest nights ever (that involved paella, 21st birthdays, stolen wine, and cocaine…).
Then it was on to Barcelona. Where I stayed in an awesome apartment for a month. I saw a lot of beautiful Gaudi buildings, finally (mostly) got over my sickness, learned to make Tortilla de Patatas, met up with my friends Ian and Adam, and attended an amazing festival of fire parades and human tower building.
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