The thought of leaving everything behind for a trip you don’t ever plan on coming back from could be daunting, for most people anyway. But for me these thoughts brought a sparkle to my eye, filling me with the deepest curiosity.
I couldn’t wait to journey into something totally unfamiliar.
Sure, I had people doubting me, making bets that I’d be back in a year tops, saying I would be missing home.
But as I’m writing this to you now, I’ve hit the 2 year mark of full-time travel.
I was ready!
By the time it came to leaving, my claustrophobic senses were driving me crazy and I was ready to take on whatever was thrown at me.
Literally, ready to take on the world! Alone.
All my efforts the previous months, those endless hours in front of the laptop, getting rid of my belongings, packing my new home into a suit case, would hopefully pay off and those precious words my conscious had been whispering into my ears would finally become a reality
fulfillment, adventure and freedom.
But you know what gave me goosebumps the most, the good kind of ones? The fact that I was doing it alone.
I could decide what, how and when to do things. I could choose my own path and let events happen on their own accord without being conscious of anyone else. ‘Going with the flow’ as they say.
This might sound selfish, but I was looking forward to simply focusing on myself and no one else.
It’s no exaggeration when I say it felt like chains were being broken.
Maybe some of you can relate to this feeling too?
I knew it was possible to travel alone, I had met so many others in my previous trips, and you’ll be surprised how many kind and generous people you meet venturing out into the world.