Thursday, June 5, 2014

Solo Travels, Part 2: The Joy and Self-Reflection


I love traveling by myself. There is almost nothing I can think of that is so joyously liberating as being in a place where I know no one and I have no expectations put upon me. When I get to act free from judgment (relatively, I suppose, but at least I haven’t heard or understood the judgments), I can focus on judging my own actions in a quasi-vacuum; I find it to be pretty darn insightful.

I think solo traveling gives me the freedom to see what I do without my normal social structure and comfortable boundaries influencing me. Of course, we all carry our influences and expectations around with us, but removing all familiarity and plopping myself in a foreign situation is a good way to strip as many of those external forces out of the mix. It is a rare opportunity that traveling affords and the source of that clichéd “finding yourself” theme. Clichéd, yes, but clichés can be true.

To beat a dead horse (I need a less gruesome saying…anyone?), here is my very first experience traveling alone and the mini lessons it taught me.

London, England
I flew from Austin to London solo when I was 21. I had graduated college a month earlier and I was so excited to be taking this first adult adventure by myself. My sweet mom had taken me to the airport and she cried as I walked through the security checkpoint, which brought home just how big this step was (lesson one: my mom is the biggest softie and I have a uncontrollable, reciprocal cry reaction to her tears). Six months abroad! I had no contacts, no safety net, no job prospects or ideas of what I would do, just a work visa and a hostel lined up for two weeks.

When I made it to Heathrow, I exchanged some cash, found my way to the Tube station, and faced one my fears straight away: how to buy a pass that would get me where I needed to go. When you grow up somewhere with basically no public transportation, trying to figure out Tube routes and fares can be pretty daunting, let me tell you (lesson two: other cities do it better, Austin). Lucky for me, London knows what it’s doing and makes it super easy. Success number one was buying my ticket and making to the platform going in the correct direction. I felt like a genius, well on my way to conquering the great city (lesson three: self-reliance feels amazing).

Coming out of the Tube, up to the busy streets above, I was completely disoriented and didn’t know which direction my hostel was. But hyper self-conscious of appearing to be a bumbling tourist, I just picked a direction and started walking like I knew where I was going (lesson four: I might be a bit narcissistic [no surprise, I did start a blog]). A couple blocks in, I realized I was going the wrong way. So just as purposefully, I swung my giant wheelie suitcase around (I hadn’t bought my trusty backpack at that point) and marched off the other way. I wanted people to think I lived in London and was just returning home from a trip abroad, heading back to my flat (lesson five: I'm an idiot). About five minutes after that, I was still lost and not sure I was heading in the right direction, so I swallowed my pride, gave up all hope of being seen as a local, and flagged down the nearest local-looking lady I came across to ask for directions.

I still remember how kind and friendly she was (lesson six: most people really are nice if you give them the chance). She was, in fact, from London, but nevertheless didn’t know where my street was. She said, “Hang on; let me check the A to Zed.” Huh? I had no idea what she was talking about, but she pulled out a city map from her purse (one I would see again and again during my time in London), looked up my street, and seemed genuinely excited for me to learn that it was just a couple blocks away, in the direction I was already heading. Success number two! I made a mental note to buy one of those handy maps and continued on my way.

I few minutes later I had lugged my beast of a suitcase up a bunch of narrow stairs and dumped it on my hostel bed (lesson seven: get a freaking backpack already), next to my new roommate Naomi. We exchanged a bit of introductory chitchat and then she insisted on taking me to the nearest Tesco for my first grocery-shopping trip in London (lesson eight: you bag your own groceries in the UK). I felt like a local just a few hours into my adventure!

I know, it all sounds so simple and mundane in the recounting, but the excitement of every single moment is indescribable. It’s a feeling of empowerment and giddy anticipation and communal trusting in the kindness of strangers that can only fully be understood in the experience of dropping away from all comfort and familiarity and going it alone. In case I haven’t made it clear yet, I highly recommend it!

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