the truth

Here’s the thing- the truth- the facts about traveling. Traveling is hard, traveling solo is even more difficult, and traveling for more than your standard 1-3 weeks is an experience many don’t get, but an experience I urge everyone to try.

This blog was always meant to be a documentation of my experiences while abroad, and was never meant to be some fluff blog where everything is happy, wonderful and great. And I am afraid I haven’t been completely honest with you all. While I stand by everything I have published on this page, I must inform you of the bad parts of travel, because if you’ve ever lived out of suitcase for more than a week you know that it gets difficult. And to all of you people who have somehow figured out how to get paid to travel, I salute you, and I ask you to inform the rest of the world that travel isn’t all beautiful scenery, old buildings, delicious food, gelato, and cute Italian boys. This is a serious misconception, and I fear I may have played a role in this perfect idea of travel.

So, to make up for my short comings as a travel blogger, I will inform you all of the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth so help me God. Traveling is difficult. It is overwhelmingly stressful and if you’ve ever in your life tried to map out a route, plan a trip, book hotels/hostels, figure out transportation, all while trying to do research into all of “Can’t Miss” places, and made the mistake of not booking your ticket early; you know exactly what I am talking about. While travel has become increasingly easy to plan on the internet (HostelWorld, and trip advisor forums) it is still a struggle to plan a trip. “How many days here, if we’re there we might as well stop here, but what about that other city?” are all thoughts that stream through my brain when I look at a map and try to plan my attack. And I have come to the conclusion that the world is simply to big, there is too much; but that conclusion does not seem to suppress my FOMO (fear of missing out).

I. WANT. TO. DO. EVERYTHING.

The amount of mental break downs, curse words, yelling to the sky, throwing my face in a pillow, and exasperated noises that have come flying from my mouth while trying to book travel could probably fill a library full of books. The pages of these books would consist of sounds like “URRAAGGGG” and begging questions like; “WHY UNIVERSE, WHY? WHY DO YOU HATE ME”, also statements like “Yupp, looks like i’ll be sleeping on a park bench when I get to that city”. I’ve stated before that when going to a new place I usually do very minimal planning, and leave expectations behind, but this vow to not-plan falls short at the pinnacle of booking hostels and trains.

I will never be a travel agent.

EVER.

So here’s my truth; my experience. My semester abroad was incredible, it was truly the most magical experience. But it has been hard. So freaking hard. And traveling solo? (soon to be explained in a blog post) that’s even harder, and scarier. Especially in a predominately Muslim country, being a 5’10 blonde girl with fair skin and blue eyes. I was out of place, for sure. I have spent the past 5 months frolicking all over Europe. 13 countries (14 if you count the Vatican City) and about 20 cities later.. I am so overwhelmingly ready to go home. I never thought the day would come. Ever. I was convinced my mother would have to fly to Prague and drag me kicking and screaming home.

A huge part of traveling, especially at the age of 19, is finding yourself; learning your strengths, your weaknesses, and where the line is, and how far and long you can push your self past it. For me, that time has come.

There is beauty in admitting defeat, and knowing your limits and allowing yourself to grow past them; paired with being able to draw the line and admit, most importantly to yourself, (and your family) when you’re not okay. When you need to come home, when you need to hang up your back pack, when you need to feel the comfort of your mom’s arms wrapped around your neck, and feel the security of knowing where you’re going to rest your head at night (along with knowing that you won’t get bed bugs). Defeat, failing, and going home are all good things. It means you set out on a path that curved to a place you didn’t know, and that you followed that path wholeheartedly, and maybe it didn’t end up going the way you thought but at least you tried.

All of that being said, I will be flying home in less than 4 days. And I couldn’t be any happier.

Trust me when I say that this is not the end for this blog, my adventures, or my travels. I am hoping to go on some road trips this summer, and hope to find adventure everyday.

I am sad to see the sun setting on this adventure of mine, but all things end, all doors close, all things change.

Thanks for sticking with me through all of these sappy blog posts y’all.

See you soon Texas.