On May 24, 2008, a few things happened to me. First, I celebrated a birthday and turned 22. That birthday was eclipsed by my preparations for the next day, May 25, when I was to graduate from college and finally enter the “real world.” Finally, I got struck by an insatiable case of the travel bug.
I vividly remember that day, 8 years ago, sitting in bed with my giant Dell laptop and mapping out a virtual road trip of the US, while simultaneously making a list of places I wanted to visit all over the world. At that point, I had never been to the west coast, and with the exception of Canada a few times I had never left the country. I never studied abroad because I was having too much fun on campus. I wanted to see and experience everything. I was ready to take on the world, so to speak.
A few days after graduation I flew to St. Louis for a conference, and the day after I got back I jumped right into a full time internship. I’ll always remember that as a hectic time. I didn’t act on any major travel right away, but in 2009 I planned my first big solo trip across the country to San Francisco to visit college friends. One of the most memorable parts of the trip was flying over the Rocky Mountains. Looking down I saw huge stretches of nothing but mountains. No roads, no buildings, no signs of people. It was somehow a new phenomenon for me. I was hit by a sort of adrenaline rush, and knew that the travel bug that I’d felt a year ago wasn’t some fleeting whim brought on by a fear of the unknown; it was here to stay.
Eight years have gone by since I graduated college, and now I’m 30. My 17 year old cousin asked me recently if I felt happy with what I did in my 20s, and she specifically singled out whether I felt like I’d traveled enough. Being asked to reflect on it, I was proud to honestly say that the answer was yes. Though marked by some wild professional and personal turns, travel has been a consistent companion. I got out to the west coast a few mores times, went to Barbados with my family, flew to Western Europe for a 3-week group tour, rode trains across the US for a month while stopping in cities from coast to coast, took a road trip with a friend through National Parks of the Southwest, and seized every opportunity I got to visit new states and cities across the country, even if for a short time. This past winter I took two long weekend trips to visit friends in Miami and Houston, and both felt like no big deal. Travel is getting easier, but the addiction only grows.
Which brings us to today, as I get ready to embark on my next big adventure. This time, I’m going by myself to Scandinavia for 2 weeks, including Iceland, Sweden, Denmark, and Norway. I planned everything myself and don’t know anyone there. It has been the most extensive planning I’ve ever done for a trip; I started thinking about it back in December.
I love the planning process. Studies show that people get as much satisfaction from planning for a big trip as from the trip itself, and that’s definitely true for me. The 7-month planning process for this trip makes the anticipation of this week intense! I’m definitely being a lot more detailed than usual, especially because I don’t know anyone where I’m going and there may be a language barrier (though most people speak English). I generally like to strike a balance between planning and allowing flexibility to go with the flow and enjoy new experiences. One of my most memorable experiences was my 2nd and final full day in Salt Lake City during my train trip, when I decided on a whim to rent a car and drive to a place someone had told me about the day before called Antelope Island in the middle of the Great Salt Lake. I walked through 10 minutes of dry, deserted beach to put my feet in the lake, hiked abandoned trails, and got up close and personal with the bison that freely roamed the island. But I also like to know where I’m sleeping every night.
I’m not a great expedition leader like the authors whose books I enjoy, like Bill Bryson or Cheryl Strayed or Sarah Marquis. I have limits and reasonable expectations of comfort. I also value stability, which right now means a full time job that graciously allowed me the time off. It was definitely easier to explore during grad school with all the long vacations!
Thirty is a milestone, at least by society’s standards. I guess I’m a real-life adult now. I’m still figuring out what that’s supposed to mean, but I do know that my energy for travel is not subsiding anytime soon. The travel bug is still here, and I’m not putting up a fight.
travels.of.tara 